Page 67 of Beyond Scandal and Desire
She nodded. He rose, drew back her chair. Standing, she ignored his proffered arm—suddenly tired of any and all assistance as though she wasn’t fully capable of taking care of herself—and walked through the manor and into the gardens.
He fell into step beside her and held his silence until they were well beyond the house. “I thought we might enjoy a game or two of cribbage this evening,” he said.
“I’m quite weary from the day’s activities. I’ll be retiring as soon as we’ve finished our stroll.”
“You’re still put out with me.”
“I am.” Although she had appreciated his defense of her going to the orphanage. Tension stretched between them, taut and brittle. He sighed, clucked his teeth. She suspected he was clenching them, as well.
“I owe you an apology,” he said quietly, “for my behavior yesterday as well as the night before that. I was troubled by my losses and embarrassed that you saw me lose.”
“Telling me you owe me an apology is not apologizing,” she stated succinctly.
“Aslyn.” He stepped in front of her, halted her steps. “I’m certain this evening my parents noticed there is a bit of a strain between us. It might have even led to my mother’s upset or whatever it was.”
“Which is the reason we should tell them how things are between us.”
“And how is that precisely?”
“That we’ve ended our arrangement.”
“But we haven’t. It’s merely on hiatus while we . . . couples have rows all the time. They work things out. I’m trying to make it right.”
“You can’t.”
Squeezing his eyes shut, he released a deep breath. “I apologize.” He opened his eyes. “I’m sorry. Tell me what more I can say.”
“There is nothing you can say, only things you can do, and even then, you are unlikely to change my opinion regarding our suitability.”
“Why are you being so blasted stubborn about this? Men gamble, drink, go to clubs. It’s what we do.”
“The man I marry will not.” Edging around him, she began walking toward the rose trellis. He quickly caught up to her.
“Do you want me to go to the damned orphanage with you? Will that make you forgive me?”
“No, actually, I don’t want you along. You don’t want to be there, and the orphans would sense it. I would sense it. You’d mope about, and it would ruin my outing.”
“What has gotten into you? Where is the biddable woman I asked to marry me?”
She swung around to face him. “You broke her heart, and all the love she held for you spilled out. You can’t gather it back up.” She shook her head. “That’s not entirely true. I was hurt, and I saw a side to you I cannot embrace. But I’ve come to realize I’ve always viewed you more as a brother, that my feelings for you are not such that we would make good lovers.”
“Lovers,” he repeated softly, his tone one of someone testing a newly discovered word. He blinked, stared at her as though he’d not considered that once they married they would indeed become lovers. He shook his head, obviously in need of clearing it. “This is not at all like you. Why cast me aside because of one error in judgment? What has brought this on?” His eyes narrowed as he studied her, but she couldn’t tell him the truth, couldn’t tell him that another man intrigued her, caused her heart to pound, her fears to dissipate—
“Good God, it’s Trewlove, isn’t it? That’s why he insisted I bring you to his affair.” He laughed, the sound ugly and horrid. “He’s using you just as he’s using me.”
“To what purpose?”
“Because it elevates him. To be seen with those of noble blood when his blood is tainted beyond redemption.”
“You’re wrong. He doesn’t need us to elevate him. He’s risen to great heights on his own volition. With his businesses and his buildings and the kindness he shows others.”
“You must know my father would never let you marry him.”
She did know. “If he knew him—”
“Never.” He looked to the rose trellises. “You will come back around to the notion of marrying me.”
“Never,” she said, repeating his word.
