The Secret Wallflower Society - Jillian Eaton Page 0,76
when she had first tried to tell him about her engagement…but he had been too stubborn, too prideful, too hurt. He’d allowed years to be wasted. Years consumed by anger and hatred when they could have been filled with happiness and joy.
Now it was too late. Helena had made her feelings clear, and he wasn’t going to beg her again. But he was going to open another bottle of brandy.
He turned away from the window, and then he froze, his eyes wide with disbelief. For there, in the doorway, stood the woman who had stolen his heart and never given it back. The woman he’d wished for, day after day. The woman he’d dreamed about, night after night.
“What – what are you doing here?” he croaked.
“Hello, Stephen,” said Helena softly. “Is that any way to greet an old friend?”
For the entire journey from Winchester Manor to 7 Harcourt Lane, Helena had alternated between asking the driver to go faster and flinging herself out the window. Fortunately, common sense had prevailed, and she’d managed to reach Stephen’s townhouse without any unsightly bumps or bruises.
But as she stared at the man she loved, she couldn’t help but wonder if a few scratches wouldn’t have been vastly preferable to this painful thudding inside her chest and the trickle of ice running down her spine.
She could always flee, she supposed. She had told the carriage to wait. But she’d also come here for a reason. The most important reason of her entire life. And she wasn’t going to allow herself to leave until Stephen kicked her out. Which he would, of course, as soon as he heard what she’d come to tell him.
“Are we friends?” he asked her, his blue eyes unreadable.
“I believe you should reserve that question until after I’ve told you the truth. Do you mind if I sit down? I’m going to sit down,” she decided, helping herself to a velvet upholstered chair before he could reply.
“I was under the impression you already told me the truth.” Sunlight filtered in through the window at his back, illuminating the streaks of mahogany in his carelessly tousled hair. With his shirt partially unbuttoned and his sleeves rolled up, he’d never looked more handsome. She took a deep breath, then another.
Lord, but this was going to hurt.
“I told you one truth. Now I need to tell you another. About your father.” When her gaze fell to her lap, she forced her chin up. She owed it to Stephen – and herself – to look him in the eyes. “About the night we were married.”
His jaw clenched. “I don’t know if I want to hear this.”
“I don’t know if I want to tell you, but here we are.” She couldn’t figure out what to do with her hands. Why couldn’t she figure out what to do with her hands? After fidgeting with them for a moment, she braced her hands on the armrests of the chair. “You’re going to hate me more than you ever have, and I accept that. The only thing I ask is that you sleep on it before you decide whether or not you want me arrested. Whatever decision you make, I will accept that as well.”
“Arrested?” His brow creased. “Helena, what the devil are you–”
“I killed your father,” she blurted.
Silence.
Deafening silence.
Then Stephen walked to his liquor cabinet. “I’m going to pour myself a glass of my strongest brandy,” he said with mind-boggling calm, “and you are going to tell me everything.”
Her nails dug into the chair as she waited. When he’d finished preparing his drink, he took a long sip before he faced her, his gaze cool and assessing. His mouth a stern, drawn out line. His shoulders tense.
“N-now?” she said weakly.
“Unless you can think of a better time.”
“All right. All right,” she repeated as she gathered her resolve. She’d already told Calliope and Percy. They’d received the tale with equal parts shock and horror before they’d both insisted that she go to Stephen without delay. So here she was, with her heart laid bare and her very soul exposed for judgement.
Ready to tell her final truth.
“You know the marriage wasn’t of my choosing. It all happened so quickly, the proposal, your rejection, the wedding day, that I never had time to consider what would happen on the wedding night. I was terrified.” She looked down again, gritted her teeth, and glanced up to discover Stephen studying her with quiet intensity.