Proof by Seduction (Carhart #1)(73)

The thin white cloth seemed so inadequate. She was vibrant and unsullied. She was scared of marriage. The weight of her fears settled in his chest.

“Blakely,” she said. “Are you angry at me?”

Angry at her? He didn’t know how to answer. He was angry at himself. He’d negotiated the settlements and had her fiancé investigated. He’d gruffly told her the man would do, but in his heart of hearts he had harbored doubts.

He would have harbored doubts no matter who the man was, so he’d swallowed his complaints. No man was good enough for Laura.

He regarded her. “I remember when you were born. I was at Harrow, of course, and living with Grandfather in the meantime. I didn’t see you until you were six months old. And you grabbed my hair and smiled at me.”

“I’m not six months old any longer.”

“No,” Gareth said. “You’re not pulling my hair, either.”

He sounded cold even to himself. He slouched against the cushions.

“It wasn’t her fault,” Laura was saying. “Miss Keeble’s. She said you wouldn’t be happy if I talked to her. But I insisted. I was just so scared, and I had nobody to talk with, and—”

“Laura,” Gareth heard himself say. His voice sounded like icicles. Steel bands encircled his chest. But he didn’t know how to change. When it came to Laura, he’d never been able to warm up. “You have me.”

She was silent. Too silent. When he looked up at her, her lashes were wet. Gareth swore inside.

“Have I?” she said, shakily. “How? Every time I try, you brush me off. You make one of those horrible cutting comments. You make me feel so stupid.”

God. He had no idea what to do. None at all. She was frightened. She was actually shaking. And the hell of it was, she was scared of him.

When his mother had remarried, Gareth’s time with her had dwindled to a few days snatched between school terms. Learning to become Lord Blakely at his grandfather’s estate had taken up his summers. Laura had worshipped him, almost painfully, on the days when he appeared. But she’d treated him as an Old Testament God—and one who would smite her at the first sign of perfidy.

“And now,” Laura said, angrily swiping at a tear, “you’re going to call off the wedding.”

“How could I? I’ve signed the settlements, and I have no legal hold over you.”

“You could convince Papa.”

A fiercely protective part of him growled in agreement. If she feared this marriage so much, she’d be best off not marrying the man. He tested the waters tentatively. “And is it so important to marry him, then?”

“Not important at all.” She turned her head. “I j-just love him, that’s all.”

“Oh.” It was all Gareth could think to say. He’d expected her to list silly, inconsequential reasons for going forward with the ceremony. But he was too shocked to do anything but repeat himself. “Oh.”

“And that’s the problem.” Tears were openly streaming down her face. “I love you, and that’s never done me one bit of good. I’m never going to be good enough.”

He had only thought he was tongue-tied before. Now words deserted him utterly. The rational thing to do would be to keep silent, to dump her back at her home, in hopes that she would cry herself out in her own room. But she was here now, and weeping quietly into her skirts. And he had run away too many times, leaving her to believe she wasn’t good enough.

Touch is a circuit.

Gareth swallowed fear and awkwardness. He compressed them into a solid lump in his chest. And then he did something he’d never done before. He crossed the hired coach to sit beside his sister. And he put his arms around her.

She stiffened in shock. In those first delicate seconds, he almost pulled away. Then she folded into his embrace. To his surprise, he found that the cold really did flow out of him. And it didn’t go into Laura. Instead, her sobs quieted to soft hiccups. They thawed each other.

Newton would have been flabbergasted. This kind of energy was not conserved.

By the time her sobs quieted, he’d found the right words. “I learned how to balance accounts,” he said, “instead of how to be a brother. I’m not any good at it, although I’m trying to learn. But, Laura, I loved you from the first moment you pulled my hair. I always have.”

She inhaled sharply. She tilted her face up to his, her eyes wet and round.

“Now come,” he said. “Does your Alex love you back, or is he a hopeless idiot?”

“He loves me,” she said quietly. “But I’m afraid he’ll stop after we marry. He’ll change his mind. He’ll—”

“He’ll love you more. Trust me.”

“Really?” She was far too somber.

“Really.” He had no words to make her smile, and so Gareth tweaked her nose.

And she giggled.

It had been a long time since he’d laughed. But despite all those years, he still remembered how. What he’d forgotten was the lightness of his soul when he did so. The moment was perfect.

Almost perfect. One small corner of blackness coiled beneath his good humor. He recognized it for the unworthy creature that it was, but still it poked its head out, whispering darkness.

Men leave. Why should Jenny’s last comment sting so? It was no more than he deserved. And Laura, of all people, knew the truth of what she said. After all, he’d been leaving his sister since she was born, returning to his grandfather’s estate after every short visit.