Authors: Jacquie D'Alessandro
“Any similarities in our circumstances changed long ago. You’re the sister of a duchess.
I’m a village shopkeeper.”
“And you believe that’s not enough for me?”
“It’s most definitely not enough for a duchess’s sister.”
“And if I said it was?”
For one impossible second
,
his heart leapt with hope.
Then just as quickly crashed to the bottom of his chest as sanity returned.
“I’d say you’re not thinking clearly.
That you’re very unwisely allowing a few moments of passion to override your common sense.”
“I disagree.”
A bitter sound escaped him.
“Now
,
there’s a surprise.”
“If you believe that the trappings of Society are what matter most to me
,
then you don’t know me at all.”
“How can they not matter?
Your family, your life
,
is in London.”
“Perhaps.
But my heart is here.
In Halstead.
It always has been.”
There was no doubt she meant it
—
it was all right there in her eyes.
But one of them had to be sensible, one of them had to do what was best for her, and clearly it had to be him.
Even if it killed him.
And given the tightness constricting his chest
,
he suspected it just might.
He looked into her eyes, willing her to see his resolve.
And the depth of his regret.
“Regardless of where you believe your heart may be, your future is not here.
And I’m sorry if anything I’ve done this evening would make you believe otherwise.
If I could take back that kiss
,
I would.
But I can’t
,
so I can only again apologize and ask for your forgiveness.
And hope we can remain friends.”
Silence swelled for several long seconds, then she said, “I want to make absolutely certain I understand you.
You’re sorry you kissed me.”
A muscle tightened in his jaw
,
and he jerked his head in a nod.
“Yes.”
“That it was wrong.”
“In every way.”
“You think what we shared was a mistake.”
“I
know
it was a mistake.
I can only hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”
“And that’s what you want from me, William?
Forgiveness?”
“Yes.”
“Nothing more?”
Bloody hell, he wanted everything from her.
And if things were different, if fate hadn’t taken her into
an
exalted social
realm
…
but things weren’t different.
So he forced himself to say what had to be said.
“Nothing more.”
“And that is your final word?”
“Yes.”
Trapped in an agony of loss
,
he watched the hope fade from her expression.
Her eyes glittered in the darkness
,
and dread stabbed him at the thought of her crying.
But instead of doing so, she lifted her chin and stepped in front of him.
And he realized her eyes weren’t gleaming with tears but with anger.
Indeed
,
she looked positively furious.
“Well, I have something to say to you,” she said in a low, throbbing voice.
Her finger jabbed him in the chest.
He stepped back, more in surprise than in pain.
“You say that there can only be friendship between us, but I’m afraid we once again disagree
,
because based on the way you kissed me, ‘tis clear there’s already more.”
“I told you, that was a—”
“Mistake.
Yes, you’ve made that perfectly clear.
And you’re filled with remorse.
Well
,
allow me to relieve your mind, William.
As it turns out,
I
am the one who made the mistake.
By thinking you’d be brave enough to take what you so obviously want.”
A combination of surprise and anger rippled through him
,
and he narrowed his eyes right back at her.
“Are you insinuating I’m a
coward
?”
“No.
I’m saying it outright.
I never thought so until tonight, but that’s precisely what you are.
My actions this evening can leave no doubt as to what I want and what is important to me.
I’d hoped, prayed
,
you’d want the same, and your kiss tells me you do.
Yet you’re too afraid to admit it and do something about it.
You’re not willing to take what you want, what we
both
want.
You believe I’d be giving up something
,
and I tell you I would be giving up nothing.
Yet you’re willing to give up the life, the happiness, the love we could have together.
And that does indeed make you a coward.
And that is
my
final word.”
After a last fulminating look, one clearly meant to incinerate him where he stood, she shoved through the drooping branches and strode down the path leading back to the cottage.
Leaving William alone.
Utterly and completely alone.
CHAPTER FIVE
“We’re almost home,” Aunt Olivia shouted.
Callie lifted her gaze from the book she’d been pretending to read for the last three hours and looked out the carriage window.
The verdant expanse of Hyde Park stretched out just ahead.
“Yes,” she agreed
,
trying to inject some enthusiasm into her tone.
“Home.”
Aunt Olivia reached across the confines of the carriage to pat Callie’s hand.
“Smile, my dear.
You have every reason in the world to be happy.
There’s the coronation, then your birthday, and then your engagement to look forward to.”
Callie barely refrained from wincing.
Her misery wasn’t Aunt Olivia’s fault.
She didn’t have the slightest clue
about
Callie’s feelings.
And
,
as Callie intended to keep it that way, she forced her lips to curve upward.
“I’m happy, Aunt Olivia.
Just tired from the long ride.”
Aunt Olivia nodded.
“Oh, yes, my dear.
You’ll make a beautiful bride.”
“
Ride
,” Callie shouted.
“Yes, pride can be a nuisance, to be sure.
But have faith, dear child.
They eventually come to their senses.”
“They?” Callie asked, utterly confused by her aunt’s latest conversational tangent.
“Men.”
Aunt Olivia pursed her lips.
“And sometimes women as well, so beware you don’t allow yourself to be blinded by something so foolish.
There is no place for pride when one is in love.
Now, is my bonnet tied properly, dear?
I do
n
o
t wish to arrive looking undone from our travels.”
“You look fine,” Callie hollered, then turned her attention back to the window in an effort to forestall any further conversation before their arrival.
She had no idea what Aunt Olivia was talking about and
,
frankly
,
was too emotionally drained to try to figure it out.
Besides, she needed these last few minutes to gather herself.
To bury her sorrow and heartbreak and disappointment where no one would ever see them.
After leaving William last night, she’d paced her bedchamber until dawn.
Several hours later
,
her anger had finally cooled, leaving a dull ache and bone-deep weariness in its wake.
She’d dawdled over breakfast, had the coachman rearrange the luggage twice
,
then feigned a desire to take one last turn through the gardens before departing, all in the hope that William would come to the cottage to see them off.
To tell her he’d had a change of heart.
That he wanted them to have a life together.
But he hadn’t come, and with no further excuses to delay their departure any longer, she’d boarded the carriage, irritated
with
herself for her silly hopes.
He’d made his position clear.
He didn’t want her.
She’d thrown herself at him
,
and he’d rejected her.
She’d ventured everything, yet had gained nothing.
Except heartbreak.
Once ensconced in the carriage, Aunt Olivia had suggested they stop by William’s shop to bid him farewell.
Callie had instantly rejected
the
idea, saying they needed to be on their way
quickly
, that they were already departing later than planned
,
and
that
she didn’t want Hayley to worry.
Aunt Olivia hadn’t argued the point
,
and Callie had breathed a sigh of relief.
Her battered pride couldn’t possibly have withstood seeing William again.
Her pride
…
A frown pulled down her brows.
Aunt Olivia had just mentioned something about pride.
What had she said?
She turned to her aunt to question her
,
but before she could speak
,
the carriage rocked to a halt.
“We’ve arrived,” Aunt Olivia announced in her booming voice.
The carriage door opened
,
and a liveried footman helped Aunt Olivia
and
then Callie to alight.
London’s ubiquitous fog obscured the sun, casting Hayley and Stephen’s elegant brick Mayfair townhouse in gloomy
,
gray shadows that perfectly matched Callie’s mood.
As the footman supervised the unloading of the trunks, Callie opened the wrought iron gate and started up the flagstone walkway, followed by Aunt Olivia.
They were halfway up the narrow path when the front door of the townhouse opened.
Callie looked up and halted as if she’d walked into a transparent wall.
William stood in the entryway.
Their gazes locked
,
and Callie’s breath stalled along with her heart.
He paused for several seconds, then strode toward her, his gaze never leaving hers, not halting until he stood directly in front of her.
“Hello, Callie.”
She opened her mouth and realized to her chagrin that her jaw had already dropped.
She snapped it closed, swallowed to moisten her suddenly dry throat, then managed to say, “Wh
…
what are you doing here?
And
how
did you get here?”
“I rode.
Quite a nice journey on horseback, especially when one sets out at dawn.
So much quicker than by carriage.
As for what I’m doing here, I wished to speak to the duke and duchess, and as they are in London
…
here I am.”
Callie continued to stare at him in stunned amazement.
“Why did you wish to speak to Stephen and Hayley?”
“Before I tell you, there’s something I need to say.”
His attention shifted over her shoulder
,
and Callie suddenly recalled where they were.
And that they weren’t alone.
“Oh, don’t mind me, dear boy,” came Aunt Olivia’s voice from behind Callie.
“I’m quite deaf, you know.
I’ll just supervise the unpacking of the luggage.”
Callie glanced behind her and watched Aunt Olivia instruct the strapping footman regarding the trunks.
As soon as she returned her attention to William, he said, “After you left the lake last night
,
I remained beneath the willow tree.
For hours.
Thinking about what had happened.
What you said.
What I said.
And with my every thought
,
my mind kept circling back to the images we’d seen in the mirror pendant.
They had to mean something.
Finally, after what were easily the loneliest, most miserable few hours of my life, I realized the significance of those images.
Do you wish to know
what
I concluded?”