This Duchess of Mine(92)
“You already had me,” she said painfully. “You always had me, Elijah.”
“I wanted all of you. When you made the match with Villiers, I seized the opportunity to try to win you myself.”
“You could have just told me.”
“And then what? Would you have fallen in love with me again, as you have?” She said nothing, and he gave her a little shake. “As you have, Jemma?”
“I loved you already,” she said.
“I wanted you in love with me.”
“That was selfish. You didn’t think that I wanted time with you.”
“Forgive me?”
She sniffed and buried her head in his shoulder.
“No.”
“I’ve never been so happy as the last days. When you were wooing me, Jemma. When you were loving me. When you were laughing at me, or letting me make love to you. When you were making love to me.”
Huge tears were burning in her eyes. “I could have done all that a year ago.”
“We may have another year. My faint in the House of Lords occurred over a year ago.”
She heard the slightest note in his voice, knew he was lying. He knew, he knew. There was saltwater on her cheeks, the taste of it on her lips.
“You’ve given me what I thought I’d never have,” he continued.
“Don’t talk as if you’re dying tomorrow,” she said. “I can’t bear it. I can’t bear it!”
“You’re my Jemma. You were strong enough to leave me when I had to be left, and strong enough to come home when I needed you. You will care for my house, and my lands, and my poor Cacky Street men. You can bear it.”
“No.”
His arms tightened around her. “Don’t cry.”
“I shall cry if I want to,” she said fiercely. “Oh God, I suddenly understand widows’ weeds.”
“You mustn’t—”
But she didn’t listen to him. “Because if you die, I shan’t want to wear anything but black,” she said, a great sob rising in her throat. “I shall cry for a year and a day in my blacks, and no one can fault me. I didn’t understand why Harriet was still grieving for her husband although it had been almost two years.”
“No!” He was almost shouting now, but Jemma was convulsed by grief, bending at the waist, ugly sobs tearing through her lungs. Elijah bent over with her, his strong, warm body curved over her back, holding her, warming her.
“It can’t be true,” she sobbed. “It’s not true, it’s not true, it’s not true.”
He picked her up then and carried her away to bed, and they lay there together while sobs shook her body. Because it was true. He was leaving her.
He had to leave her unless some sort of miracle happened…and neither of them believed in miracles. They were chess players. They were logical, and rational.
And thus, brokenhearted.
After her sobs had quieted, Elijah said, “Jemma, I think you should leave me.”
She sat up, her eyes burning, and stared at him incredulously. “What did you just say?”
“It’s horrible that you should have to live through this with me. You—”
He broke off because she was slapping him, great, open-handed slaps to his chest. “You don’t get to send me away again, Elijah! Don’t you understand? Why don’t you understand?”
She was sobbing again. “You never get to send me away again!”
“I’m sorry,” he said, pulling her into his arms. “I’m a fool, Jemma. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
Her face was stricken but her eyes blazed at him. “You made a mistake and you broke us in half,” she said. Her voice was quieter, but still passionate. “You keep saying that I’m yours, Elijah, but the truth is that you are mine as well.”
He heard the urgency behind her voice and he suddenly understood. She loved him. Loved him enough to forgive him for his mistress, for not following her to Paris.
But there was one thing he had to know. He cupped her face in his hands, noting absently that his fingers were shaking. “Will you forgive me?”
She blinked. “For what?”
“For not being able to stay with you forever. Because I would, Jemma. I promise I would.”
“I know,” she whispered, brushing his lips with her own. “I know.”
Chapter Twenty-four
April 2
The next morning, Jemma retired to the morning parlor and began trying to understand how one lived with this kind of knowledge. It wasn’t healthy for her to follow Elijah about, nervously demanding to listen to his heart. He disliked it. Besides, every time she listened to his chest, she heard skipped beats and her own heart felt as if it were filled with hot coals.