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“You’re the only one who doesn’t see it, Rafe,” she whispered. “How extraordinary you are.”
Fingers slid over her waist. She didn’t know when they’d gotten so close, when she’d shifted toward him.
His grey irises searched hers. “It’s hard to believe that when all I ever hear in my head is his voice.”
She couldn’t begin to imagine. Fifteen years of being berated. Of beatings and starvation. Ending it all with the attempt to eliminate him. Theo had absolutely no doubt at this point that the late duke had murdered Rafe’s mother. That Rafe knew this as well. How did one survive everything he’d been through?
“I’m broken beyond repair, Theodora. There is no fixing this,” he whispered.
His shaking fingers dug into her, clenching and unclenching, like he wanted her closer but was afraid to ask.
“I think…I think that only strengthens the admiration I have for you. Despite being broken, you’ve prevailed. Life is difficult enough as it is, yet you live it, you prosper, all the while holding the pieces of yourself together. That takes such tremendous strength, Rafe.”
His breath dusted over her lips, warm, sweet, familiar. She slid her hand around his nape, toying with his overgrown curls.
“What I said back in my cottage…”
He stiffened, and she softly massaged the back of his neck. “While true, it didn’t come out right. I don’t want to marry, Rafe. I’d be handing my autonomy over to you. I have worked so hard for the life I have. And I love it. It is not you.” She searched his eyes, desperate to find understanding. “It is not an insult to you. This is not some fairytale where the right man will change my mind.” Please understand that.
“I don’t see the necessity. We don’t need to marry to be together. One does not need marriage to love another.” She squeezed his neck as she said the words, needing that message to sink in. “Sebastian will never get to marry the person he loves. Does that lessen what he’ll have someday? Marriage is a contract, not a declaration of love.”
He watched her, something going on behind those stormy grey eyes that she wasn’t privy to. She just hoped he could see that what she was saying wasn’t a rejection, not truly.
“You…make valid arguments,” he finally said.
“I am quite sensible, or so I’ve been told.”
But the small smile he sent her was sad. “Marriage is also an obligation for some.”
Her frame sagged. That was something she didn’t have an answer to. She never in her wildest dreams would have thought they’d end up here. It was supposed to be temporary. No strings. No risk. A duke and a steward. That didn’t ever turn into more.
But then…
“So you said before…” She swallowed hard and straightened his already straight cravat. “Love, hmm?”
He shrugged a shoulder. “It’s quite vexing, if I’m honest. But yes.”
She slowly lifted her gaze to meet his. “It really is. Intolerably vexing.”
A question glinted in his eyes.
“I can hardly stand it.”
“It’s awful,” he whispered, that glint glowing brighter.
“I have no idea why people speak so highly of it,” she said softly.
His hand found her cheek, tilted her up until their lips hovered a hairsbreadth apart.
“Would not recommend,” he murmured.
“Too bad it’s too late for me.” She leaned forward, lips grazing his. “I love you too, Raphael Charles Sinclair.”
I think I always have.
45
Rafe
