Pride and Papercuts (The Austens #5) - Staci Hart Page 0,80
a moment to right ourselves.
A sharp slice of amazement cut through me at the realization of what I’d done, at what I was about to do. I had let go so completely, so entirely to what I wanted, and the act had liberated me. A second followed when I realized that without question, I regretted nothing.
This was reinforced when she slid into me, her arms threading around my waist, rolling up on her tiptoes in silent request for a kiss.
I happily obliged.
When we parted, I swept her hair back from her smiling cheeks.
“All right, Mr. Darcy. So what do you suggest?”
Logic took charge, the words exiting me like a ticker tape of computations. “We only have one option. Your family is obviously a problem for mine—I can’t openly defy my aunt without losing everything. But that doesn’t mean we can’t do this for as long as we want, if no one finds out.”
Something in her shifted. Hardened. Pulled back and frosted over.
My brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong?” she asked quietly. “Are you … are you serious?”
My silence was enough.
She snapped like a switch. “Should I feel gratitude that you’ve propositioned me? Should I thank you for admitting you unwillingly want me? Should I take it as a compliment that you’d like to sleep with me, so long as no one finds out?”
Her hand on my chest was the final stop. I needed nothing more than the slightest pressure to put a yard between us.
“I can’t believe I was so foolish. I can’t believe I let myself get here, to this place. With you.”
“That’s not … Laney, I want you.”
“But only on your terms,” she shot before laughing without humor. “It’s so obvious. How I could have believed otherwise is just a testament to how able you are to control everyone around you. Even if I didn’t have my own reasons for hating you right now, I could never be with the man who ruins and destroys everything he touches. I could never choose someone who thought my family so beneath them, such a problem. Thank you for reminding me of what I momentarily forgot. Because nothing could pardon you, not even your declaration, if that’s what you’d call it.”
“What have I destroyed?” I asked, my jaw, my body, my mind tight as a garrote. “What have I ruined that you haven’t had a hand in?”
“My brother, for instance, not that you care about him. Your sister, over and again.”
“And what exactly have I done? I gave them my blessing. What more do you want?”
“What do I want?” she shouted. “I want you to do something about it! You could have saved Georgie and Jett, but you didn’t. You could have fought for them, but instead, you left them to rot, just like you did Wyatt. Or maybe you’re the impetus behind Catherine’s unbending interference?”
I took a breath so sharp, it stung. My heart was a raging inferno.
“Do you deny it?” she asked.
“I don’t deny that I did everything I could to stop Georgie from seeing Jett, but there was no joy in it. I want her happiness more than I want my own.”
“And what about Wyatt? Did you want her happiness then?”
My eyes narrowed to slits, and I said through my teeth, “You’re quick to defend him.”
“How could I not be? You ruined his chance at happiness, just like you did your sister’s and my brother’s.”
“Wickham’s happiness,” I scoffed. “Of course the state of his happiness is my fault.”
“You’re the one who stole that life from him, and yet here you are, mocking his pain. You lied to Georgie about Wyatt, filled her head with bullshit so she’d leave him. You tried to pay him off, for God’s sake, and told her you’d cut her off if she didn’t walk away.”
Lies, lies, lies, I raged in my mind. But I was too furious to correct her.
“So this is what you think of me?” I shot instead. “Thank you for explaining so fully. My faults are unforgivable, as you said, since your word is law. But maybe,” I said, leaning closer, “you wouldn’t have been so quick to judge had your pride not been hurt by my honesty.”
“Honesty?” she snapped. “Is that what you’re calling it?”
“Maybe you’d be more forgiving if I’d pretended like your family hadn’t been a nuisance since the moment I met you? Or if I’d lied to you to spare your feelings regarding my aunt and her edict to reject you at all costs? Maybe if I’d