in his hand. The sheer beauty of it resonated through his entire body, and he couldn’t wait to see what she thought of it.
What she thought of him.
“He still hasn’t come?” Jane asked, as if she didn’t already know the answer.
Ana Maria didn’t bother to reply.
The two women sat in Ana Maria’s exuberant salon, Jane mending some of Ana Maria’s garments, and Ana Maria choosing fabrics for her bedroom and the Marchfields’ project.
She refused to be despondent about him—she could have had him, if she’d compromised. She would not compromise.
But she couldn’t help feeling mournful about what they were both missing: the opportunity to be with someone who could understand what it was like to be them. People with family they’d chosen, people whose experiences marked them out for isolation. People who coped as they had to, whether it was to constantly stay sunny, or to shut themselves off from feeling.
She and Jane looked at each other as they heard a ferocious knocking on the door. So loud it penetrated the salon’s thick walls.
Her heart leaped. It felt as though it could only be one person—after all, who else would try to punch a door?
“That’s him,” Jane said, nodding. She rose, gathering up her mending. “I’ll take this upstairs, you can receive him here.”
“How do you kn—?” Ana Maria said as there was a much quieter knock on the door.
“My lady?” Fletchfield began, opening the door, only to be shoved aside.
“I need to speak with you,” Nash said, sounding determined.
“Pardon me, Your Grace.” Jane walked quickly out of the room, yanking Fletchfield out of the way as she left.
And then there he was. Standing at the doorway, as tall and handsome as she’d remembered. Carrying a—bouquet of flowers?
The contrast between his usual dark clothing and the bright burst of flowers made her want to laugh, but perhaps she was just hysterical.
God, but she’d missed him. Even though it had only been a few days, which was ridiculous.
But she also loved him.
“I brought these for you.” He thrust the bouquet toward her, and she noticed that half of it was made up of tulips. “I don’t know which ones are the ones you like.” He took a deep breath. “I went to the market to speak with people.”
His words came out awkward and stilted, as usual, but what he was saying was so different it took her by surprise.
“You went to the market to speak with people?”
He nodded, then exhaled in exasperation. “Sorry. Yes, I did. I went to the market to speak with people.” He sounded as though he was reciting a lesson.
This was so clearly difficult for him, and yet, she would not accept anything less.
“Look, could I come in?”
Of course. He was still standing at the doorway, vast amounts of servants and possibly Sebastian and Thaddeus likely lurking around out of sight but in earshot.
“Yes, please.”
He stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. And then stood there, staring at her, a hungry desperate look in his eyes.
“Do you want to sit?”
He shook his head, then gave another one of those sighs. “No, thank you. I think I need to say what I need to say while standing.”
“Do you mind if I sit?” She gestured toward the chair.
“No, please. Here,” he said, reaching to hold the back of the chair as if to assist her, even though the chair was already in the ideal position for her to settle into.
She sat, folding her hands in her lap, regarding him with an expectant expression. “Well?”
She was not going to make this easy for him. Even though every iota of her being screamed at her to do just that—no. It was no longer her place to make anyone comfortable about anything, particularly not the man she loved whom she suspected loved her back.
If he couldn’t say or do what was necessary . . .
But she wouldn’t think about that.
He began to pace, his long legs only taking a few steps toward the edge of the room before having to turn around.
“I have so much to tell you.” A pause. “First I think I need to tell you why I am such an ass.”
She couldn’t help but chuckle.
“I told you about my father. But not everything. I will tell all of it to you now.” That was remarkable for him to say. She was so proud of him.
“He ignored me, for the most part. But there were times when he would notice my presence and insist I learn what it was to