ask you to go. I am a married man, and I cannot think my wife would take kindly to the nature of this visit. Nor do I, for that matter. You have no place here or in my life.”
“I love you,” she said, desperation ringing in her voice. “I loved you ten years ago when I agreed to be your wife, and I have never stopped. I regret listening to my father. I should have gone against his wishes and married you instead of Lord Tinley. Eli, if you knew how terribly I suffered these last nine years…I was shackled to a monster. But he is gone now. It is not too late for us. I had to see you, to tell you. Surely you understand. I had no choice then, but I have a choice now.”
Decker stared at the woman he had thought he had loved.
Hell, he had been a lad of eighteen. What had he known then of life, of the world, of anything at all? Bloody nothing. That was what he had known. Nora’s defection and betrayal ten years ago had shaped his life. He had believed himself incapable of love because of her actions.
Yet, as she stood before him now, an astonishing sense of clarity overcame him.
He had never loved her. He had never felt an inkling of what he felt for Jo.
“You had a choice then, Nora,” he said calmly, clearly. “You could have married me. I had asked for your hand and you accepted. But when your father decided I was not worthy of his darling, being an earl’s by-blow rather than a viscount, you severed all connections with me. And yet now, you return, ten years later, claiming to love me?”
She touched his coat sleeve again, clinging to him. “I know how you must feel, Eli. I do not blame you for your anger toward me. I am angry with myself. The last ten years have been penance. I have been waiting to contact you, terrified you would revile me.”
“You think too much of yourself.” He looked at her, truly looked at her, the woman who had left him jaded and broken in his youth, and he felt nothing. A curious absence of…anything. Neither anger nor hatred nor love. Only disinterest. “I hardly revile you. Indeed, I do not feel anything for you. But I must thank you for the choices you made. I understand now, even if I did not in my youth, that you did me a grand favor in crying off. I would never have known happiness and true love if not for you.”
What he meant, when he said those words, was that he was wholeheartedly grateful Nora had deemed him unsuitable. Grateful she had deferred to her father’s judgment. Because he could see quite clearly now that she was not the woman who was meant for him. And he could also see that her defection had settled him upon the path that had led him to the woman he loved.
To Lady Josephine Danvers.
To Jo.
To Josie.
Mine.
“Oh, my darling Eli,” Nora gushed, completely misunderstanding what he had attempted to convey. “You are my happiness and true love also.”
“No,” he said, shaking his head, holding up his hands to keep her from advancing any farther. The very notion of her touch repulsed him now. And not just because part of him was convinced she was seeking him out because she knew he possessed untold wealth and she appeared to be pockets to let, existing on a strained widow’s portion.
But because there was only one woman whose touch could move him. One woman he loved. One woman he wanted, now and forever. And her name was most assuredly not Nora, Lady Tinley.
“I do not love you,” he told Nora. “I love my wife.”
Jo’s feet ached. Her back ached. Her heart ached.
Every part of her was weary.
The last few days had been exhausting, both physically and mentally. She had spent far too much time contorted in chairs and carriages, not enough time sleeping, too much time crying. She was drained, emotionally exhausted. She missed her husband, his comforting embrace, his kiss. She missed sharing his bed. Missed…
Well, selfish wretch that she was, she missed the way their life had been, before the tumult. Not because she regretted Lila’s entrance into their life—quite the opposite—for her new sister-in-law was a tenderhearted delight. But because she could not help but to feel a chasm between herself and Decker, a distance which had not been present before