Forever My Love (Berkeley-Faulkner #2)(96)

“Just like that. After all that’s happened between us, you can refuse me so quickly?... Name of God, do you think I made this proposal lightly? It hasn’t been easy for me to make this decision! I’ve had the choice of the best blood in Europe and I’ve just proposed instead to a woman with no title, no name of any consequence, no family—a woman who won’t tell me much about herself or her past.”

“That’s exactly what I’ve been trying to explain.”

“My point is that I know all of that about you, and I’ve decided to accept it. Do you think I’d propose to you without making certain that it’s what I want?”

“My past—”

“Your past,” he repeated with disgust. “I’m damn well sick of this past that I know so little about—what is so horrifying about it? What are you hiding? Why don’t you tell me about it and let me decide if it’s something I can’t deal with?”

Mira’s cheeks burned, and she could not meet his eyes. She couldn’t tell him. She did not want to see the revulsion in his eyes when she told him that she was a whore’s daughter. It would be more honest of her to tell him… but if he knew of her childhood and where she had spent it, he would not be able to stand the sight of her. He would regret every time he had ever touched her, and that would be too much for her to bear. And if she did what her heart was crying out for her to do—if she married him and kept the past to herself—the constant fear of his finding out would be impossible to live with.

“No,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.’Alec raked a hand through his hair and cursed. “You’re leaving me with no options,” he said curtly. “You’ve made it clear before that you don’t want to be my mistress. You wanted more than that. Fine— I’ve offered to marry you. But you don’t want that, because you think we’re too different to mix well together. That happens to be a matter of opinion. You’re afraid of what your past might do to us… but you won’t explain anything about it to me. The obvious conclusion is that that you don’t want anything from me… and that, my dear Miss Germain, is something you’ll never make me believe.”

“It’s true. I don’t want anything from—”

“Stop.” Alec’s voice was oddly flat, as if it were necessary to command such control over himself that he could allow no emotion to show through. “No more. It’s obvious that we both need time to think.”

“It’s over.”

“No. We’re going to talk about this later, when I’ve had time to figure out what.the hell is going on.”

“It’s over,” she repeated gently.

“Before I take you back to the Berkeleys,” he said, his gray eyes turning silver with their chilling intensity, “I am going to say one more thing. In the past few years I have either lost or thrown away almost everything of personal value to me. But I am not going to lose you.”

Chapter Twelve

Rosalie simultaneously straggled with the window of the private salon and fanned herself, her cheeks flushed with agitation. “Lord, it’s so closed and dark everywhere at Brighton—why doesn’t anyone like to let sunlight in here?”

“Fades the furniture.” Mira sat down in a chair, inhaling gratefully as a cool, merciful breeze swept through the room.

“Mireille, you look so white—”

“I feel ill.”

“You should feel relieved and very proud of yourself—”

“Proud?” Mira’s voice cracked with a combination of laughter and despair. She lifted a hand to her forehead and closed her eyes in a helpless gesture. “I’m burning with misery. I know I did the right thing… I used my head, I made a sensible decision… but my heart keeps saying ‘Look at who you are—how can you refuse such an offer? You should thank God for his mercy, and then accept Lord Falkner’s proposal immediately.’ But I know I’m not good enough for him, and when he comes to realize that as well, he’ll—”

“Mireille, stop it.” Rosalie paused in her vigorous fanning and nearly glared at her. “Of course you’re good enough for him. That’s not the issue at all. You were right to refuse him because of the kind of man he is. There is something every marriage must have, and it is more essential than love or passion. Respect. It ismore important than anything else, and he’s not capable of respecting any woman.”

“I don’t think you’re right about him,” Mira blurted out in confusion. “He would never harm anyone who couldn’t defend himself… he’s really very gentle and kind… he is hotheaded but not cruel. And he respects anyone who isn’t afraid to stand up to him. I…” Her voice faltered and she said more softly, “Deep inside I know he’s worthy of trust, even though I’m afraid to give it to him.”

“Are we speaking of Lord Falkner?” Rosalie demanded. “Mireille, you barely know anything about him! Gentle? Trustworthy? Everything I have heard about him is to the contrary. Do you know how heartless he can be, have you heard anything about how callous he is? The Falkners are much feared and respected, but each and every one of them is abominably arrogant, self-inflated, uncaring, and Alec Falkner is the worst—”