Catching Captain Nash (Dashing Widows #6)(39)
He went on in a whisper. “I have a wife who says she loves me.”
For a moment, the words hung in the air, as if written in fire on the shadows. He had heard and understood her. She hadn’t been sure.
Where did this leave them? She noticed he wasn’t rushing to tell her he loved her in return. She lifted her hand away from his face. “Do you doubt it?”
“I did. I don’t anymore.”
“I know how it looked with Garson...”
He made a sweeping gesture. “It’s forgotten. I know how you grieved. I’ll never forgive myself for causing you such pain.”
She summoned a smile, although she doubted that he could see it. “Yes, I was wretched without you. But you’ve also given me so much joy.”
“Kerenza.”
“Kerenza, of course. But just you. I wondered if I’d mistaken how alive you make me feel. But I hadn’t.” She paused, and spoke the words that had been true from the moment she first saw him. “I love you, Robert. Forever.”
His hand tightened on hers. “The need to come back to you was all that kept me alive.”
That was something. That was a lot.
Childish to be disappointed that he didn’t respond to her declaration with a declaration of his own. She knew—who better?—the demands the last days had placed on him. After all this turmoil, she couldn’t blame him if he had no idea of what he felt about anything, let alone the wife he hardly knew anymore. “I’m glad.”
“So am I.”
A silence fell, less fraught than the last one, thank heaven. Because the atmosphere was easier, and because it was dark and he wouldn’t read the desperation on her face, she spoke. “I hope one day you’ll love me the way you once did.”
She heard a sharp intake of breath, and he snatched his hand away from hers. “What the devil?”
She summoned all her courage. “I love you. I want you to love me.”
“Who the hell says I don’t?” he asked, sounding angry.
She stood on legs that felt like string and wished she hadn’t broached this issue now. Hadn’t she spent the last two days lecturing herself about not putting any pressure on him? Her sigh was desolate. “I’m sorry, Robert. It’s not the time.”
He stood, too, and caught her arm. “Why in Hades don’t you think I love you?”
“You haven’t said anything,” she said flatly, although she made no attempt to pull away.
“Damn it, Morwenna, I’ve tupped you every chance I got.”
“You’ve been alone a long time,” she said stubbornly, knowing she should let this go.
“And you’re convenient? That doesn’t flatter either of us.” He sucked in a furious breath. “You should be able to judge my feelings by my actions.”
“Why?” she snapped.
“Because you love me.”
“And did you know that before I told you?”
“I hoped.”
“Well, so do I. And I’ve said I’m willing to wait.”
He slumped back onto the chest, his anger abruptly evaporating. “The last time I told you I loved you, I was a whole man, instead of a half-mad ghost, returned from the dead.”
She bit back a gasp of dismay. Dear heaven, she should have realized what was wrong. Hadn’t she already read the shame that lay beneath his relief at being home?
“You’re a whole man to me, Robert. You’re...everything. And I don’t care that you’re exhausted and scarred and eaten up with your agonizing memories.” She bit her lip, cursing her inability to express what she felt. “No, that’s wrong. Of course I care. But the most important things of all—the only really essential things—are that you came back to me, that you’re alive, and that we have a chance to be together.”
“But I’m not the person you fell in love with.”
“Nor am I. I’ve lived through years of sorrow, and I’ve raised your child, and I’ve had experiences you’ll never be part of. Does that mean you can never love me?”
“Don’t be absurd.”
She struggled not to take too much encouragement from that. Her wish for a happy ending had already caught her out today. She straightened and stared at him through the darkness. “Then look at things from my point of view.”
“I have. I don’t see why the devil you’d want me.”
“Because I love you.” She paused and swallowed before she asked the one question that truly mattered. “Do you love me?”
When he didn’t answer immediately, her heart contracted into a hard little kernel of misery. Then his breath escaped in a heavy sigh, and he stared at the floor. “I’m not worthy to love you.”
That sounded promising, if she discounted his stupid, masculine pride. “Does that mean you don’t love me?”
He gave a grunt of laughter, genuine laughter, however sardonic, and lifted his head to stare at her with wary eyes. “Of course it doesn’t.”
She’d gone too far to let him get away without saying the words. “So you do love me?”
His lips twisted in self-derision. “You never used to nag.”
“Robert,” she said in warning.
He spread his hands, and she saw those straight shoulders that bent under the weight of so much loss loosen as he finally surrendered. “Yes, damn you, Morwenna, I love you.”