Undressed with the Marquess (Lost Lords of London #3) - Christi Caldwell Page 0,131

how she felt.

And those had been gifts.

She’d not realized as much until she’d fled. Temperance had left trying to protect him. Only to find that she really had been trying to protect herself from the fear that Dare would one day reject or resent her. When challenged by his grandmother, Temperance had allowed herself to be weakened by a sense of her failures as a woman. Only . . . she wasn’t a failure. She wasn’t broken. She had time to see that now. In those moments when she’d stated her intentions to leave, he’d been adamant that her inability to have children didn’t matter. He’d spoken of the possibility of theirs being a different type of family.

And she wanted that.

All of that . . . with him.

But he’d not come for her. That truth was with her daily . . . along with what it meant. What it truly meant about his thoughts on a future with her.

He . . .

Her nape tingled with awareness.

Impossible.

And yet—

“Hullo, Temperance.” His voice washed over her, that deep baritone, honeyed and warm; it would forever haunt her sleeping and waking thoughts.

“D-dare,” she greeted. She made herself lower her sewing, but God help her for a coward, she could not turn. She could not face him.

Her heart thumped hard and fast.

He is here.

She briefly closed her eyes but did not rise or turn to face him, for fear that when and if she did, he’d disappear.

She knew why he was here, and she’d allow the reality of that to sink in after she just embraced his presence.

How she’d missed him.

Dare stopped at her shoulder . . . and remained . . . silent.

He’d not allow her to her cowardice, then.

Temperance shifted slightly in her seat, turning on the bench and looking up so she could meet his gaze.

She could make nothing out of it.

His eyes were serious and solemn when they’d always before this contained a teasing glimmer or spark.

“Joseph Gurney has been freed.”

Of anything he might have said, of anything she’d expected he might utter, that had not been it.

“I managed to locate Mr. Buxton . . . who proved as your brother expected he would be: horrified at the circumstances surrounding Mr. Gurney’s imprisonment. He’s something of a social reformer, an abolitionist, and . . . he wishes to reform the prison systems. He’s invited me to take part in his efforts.” Dare twisted his hat in his hands. “He said given my title and . . . the life that I’ve lived, that I might help make meaningful change in London.”

Her heart swelled. “That is . . . wonderful.” And she meant it. At last, he would have a new beginning and, more, the future he deserved. One that she would never be part of.

“And . . . those portraits? The ones of my family that you said I was wrong to sell. You were right. Getting rid of them did not erase the regret I felt in leaving my family. Nor did it erase the love I had for my mother, or the love she had for me. I . . . purchased them back. All of them.”

Tears filled her eyes, and she blinked them back. “That is . . . also splendid, Dare.” He’d come all this way to tell her that? Surely that meant something about his being here. Surely that meant—

Wordlessly, he set an official-looking envelope down atop the forgotten-until-now gown.

Blankly, she looked down at it. What is this?

Except she already knew. Just as she’d known with a woman’s intuition that he’d been near, she knew with a sickening dread what was contained within. Because their time together hadn’t been finished until this was done. This was why he’d come.

His features were a mask that revealed absolutely nothing. “You said you wanted an annulment. My grandfather secured the necessary signatures.”

Yes. Yes, she had. For him.

This was why he’d come, then. Not to share in the joy of what his life held in store. But to sever what their life together had been.

With surprisingly steady movements, she picked up the packet, broke the seal, and scanned the pages. She’d known what would be contained within, but seeing the words inked in black and stamped in various places left her frozen in her seat, unmoving.

“It . . . is done,” he said quietly.

After she’d lost her babe and her marriage had fallen apart, she’d thought her shattered heart was incapable of breaking any more. How much was there left