me and Mr. Northam apart, I might be able to finally let go and allow myself to lean against him, to accept him. To be happy with him. “What happened at the Hickmores’ that made you care so much about keeping your cousin and me apart that you would throw away your own life to stop it?”
His thumb stilled a moment before resuming its caress. “Most of the women Northam attracts are ridiculous creatures who try to entrap him by beating him at his own game. They’re hollow shells of respectability, pretty faces, for the most part, but not much more. He allows them to flatter him for a few days before disposing of them. But you were different. And—” He stopped, his hand tightening around mine as he shifted subtly closer. “Once Northam realized what he had, he would never have let you go.”
Gregory’s words tugged at me, evoking emotions I had promised never to feel again, a hope that things could be different—that my future didn’t have to be one of loneliness and shame.
Yet his explanation still wasn’t complete. I turned so I could gauge the truth of his words in his eyes. “Even that, though, isn’t enough for what you did. You’re a man of title, fortune, good looks, and sense, yet you engaged yourself to a woman you didn’t know, who openly confessed she wasn’t interested in you.”
He stared at me, a frown of indecision momentarily tugging at his features. “I did. But the reasons with which I set forth are no longer the reasons that keep me continuing to seek out your company.”
“Then why not tell me what they were?”
“Why not ask what they are now?” he asked quietly.
Yes, that is what I should be asking. Because that was what really mattered, wasn’t it? Wasn’t the past just the past?
And yet, the past mattered. It made us who we were. And the present, whatever was going on between us—I couldn’t trust it unless I knew the past.
This dance between us, the back and forth, the looks and silences—I couldn’t do it. Not when heartache was the only outcome. I dropped the stick and his hand fell away from mine.
“Perhaps we should return,” he said after a few moments of silence.
We turned and headed toward the formal garden at the back of the house. We’d made it halfway to the door when he stopped. “Please do not throw yourself away on my cousin.”
I ran my fingers across a white flower. “You cannot truly wish to unite yourself with me. I bring you no advantages.”
“And you cannot truly wish to live a life of misery. Northam will only hurt you further.”
I lifted my gaze to his. “And you’re promising me you won’t?”
“I can promise to try not to.” He stepped nearer. “Don’t give up on something because of someone else’s deception. Not all men are like Mr. Rosthorn.”
No. Some men were like Gregory, nonsensical and able to capture a woman’s heart against her will. “How am I to believe this when you won’t tell me why this began?”
He plucked a rose off a bush and twirled it in his fingers. “I admit my actions could be considered drastic.” He sighed before focusing on me as though to assess my reaction. “It was the only way to finally put an end to Northam’s games.”
This was not the response I had expected. “How does your engagement to me have anything to do with your cousin’s habits?”
Gregory hesitated, then shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me.”
We searched each other’s expressions for a moment before he said, “Margaret, I—” He cut himself off and shook his head. “I apologize, Miss Brinton. You were right to correct me. I should never have taken such liberties in addressing you so casually.” He held the flower out to me. When I reached to take it, his fingers wrapped around mine. He stepped closer. “Only, I cannot bear to call you anything so formal. I don’t want to be distant and formal with you.”
We stood, inches apart, and I felt that even if all in the world turned wrong, as long as he had me I would be safe.
“Ah, Miss Brinton, Lord Williams.” Mr. Lundall’s all-too-familiar voice cut through the moment. I instinctively stepped closer to Gregory, realizing too late that I was leaning against his chest. I stepped away, yet Mr. Lundall frowned as he made his way toward us; he had obviously observed us.
“I hope I am not too late to