Page 70 of Pleasantly Pursued

“Tell me, Thea,” he said, his voice lowering to a dangerous degree. “Tell me you feelnothingfor me, that your heart does not beat for mine.”

I stood mutely before him, unable to lie in the way he needed to hear. How could I tell this man, this infuriatingly handsome blockhead, that my heart did not beat for him, when in all actuality it pulsed to the cadence of his voice, the rhythm of his laugh? My heart had long ago been lost to him, but I’d fought it for so long, so desperate to protect myself from the eventuality of a broken heart.

Could a heart break worse than this, though? Could it break more? I imagined myself in my mother’s place, Benedict as my father, and the way he hurt her time and again until fidelity in their marriage was nothing but a wistful past. Yes, it could. It could break again and again until it became a shattered, pieced-together mess.

I would prefer to only break my heartonce.

Raising my gaze to meet his, I drew in a calming breath. “I will not submit myself to a relationship with a man unless I have complete faith in his ability to stay true to me.”

Shock rippled over Benedict’s face, opening his mouth and widening his eyes. “You cannot possibly believe I would ever betray your trust—”

Shaking my head, I lifted a hand to stop him. “I watched my father break my mother’s heart for years. He had achildwith one of his paramours, for heaven’s sake. I will never submit myself to the life my mother had. I refuse to turn into the spiteful woman she was, to fall as she did. No.” I shook my head again. “I refuse to submit myself to that.”

Benedict watched me, swallowing hard, and lowered his voice. “But, Thea, I am not your father.”

Chapter25

BENEDICT

It was a near impossible feat to refrain from stepping forward and pulling Thea into my arms, to comfort away the pain that lay in her eyes—pain from her parents’ past mistakes, from the present, fromme. But if I moved toward her now, she would only flee. It was a delicate balance, to fight for my chance to be hers, to convince her I was worth taking a chance on, that we were worth it together.

“I am not your father,” I repeated when she failed to speak. “I will never be that man.”

“He was faithful in the beginning,” she said quietly. “I found their behavior repulsive, and when I spoke of it once, my mother told me it was not always that way. In the beginning of their marriage, he had merely been a flirt, but he had loved my mother and stayed true to her.”

I did not know whether to be victorious or concerned that the fight seemed to have leached from Thea’s voice. If she was unwilling to fight, did that mean she had given up already?

Her round blue eyes flicked up to me. “He was exactly like you. Charismatic, charming, a favorite of everyone. He was not an awful man, but he lost his way. I refuse to love a man who already exhibits such similarities as to make him frighteningly like my father.”

“Your concerns are valid, but you do me harm by placing blame so wholly at my feet. Your expectations for the worst of me are not indicative of happiness, either.” My blood heated, and I ran a hand through my curly hair, snagging and yanking it free. “Do you think I am pleased to love a woman who has no faith in me? Who cannot see the difference between the affection and longing I hold for her and the polite chatter I carry on with others?”

“But that is where our problem lies,” she crowed, seemingly able to ignore my accidental profession of love. “Icannotsee the difference.”

“Then give me the opportunity to show it to you. Allow me to prove I am different, that my affection for you is real and lasting.” That she thought I was similar to her father hurt. I wanted to prove I was not that man—I never would be. But more than that, I wanted Thea to see it for herself.

She gave a small, resigned huff. “Do you not see how much worse that would be? How much more that would hurt us both?”

“Your refusal to give me a chance is hurting enough.”

“Then you agree,” she said. “We are to end things here. No more flirtations, no more warm smiles, no more touching.”

I clenched my jaw. “If I do not agree?”

“Perhaps the distance will do us well.”

“Distance?”

She flicked her hand impatiently. “Surely you no longer intend to come to London.”

“And watch you be courted by donkeys of theton? That does sound miserable.”

Surprise flicked in her eyes. “Well, exactly. So you will remain at Chelton when we leave? You can continue the business of purchasing your estate.”

The hunt for a home and soil of my own had suddenly lost appeal, growing dry on my tongue. My stomach soured from the realization that she expected me to so easily walk away. “I will still come to London.”

“But—”

“I will not leave you now, Thea, just because things have become difficult.”

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