Angel in Scarlet (Bound and Determined #4)(26)

“Anyone would have—although I do not remember the instance. It was only common kindness.”

“No, not anyone would have. You were in a room of other young ladies, and not one of them made a move. They stared at her with something akin to distaste. And you saw their looks and did not care. You went over to her and spoke gently. You didn’t care that others questioned your actions. I liked that. I liked that you would do what was right no matter what others thought.”

“Oh.” She truly didn’t remember, but it did sound like something she would have done. “I admit I’ve never cared much for what others thought of me, except for my family. I do try to mostly do what is expected. It makes life easier and I certainly would never wish to cause disgrace or be shunned, but who cares about a little gossip?”

“It was quite refreshing. I took it to mean you were different from the others, but then once we started to spend time together, and once we had shared a kiss, you became remarkably similar. All you wanted was to discuss bonnets and the weather and to pretend interest in my horses. You did not seem at all like the girl I had first known. If I mentioned anything related to politics, you acted as if I were talking Russian.”

Well, she actually did speak a little Russian, courtesy of an uncle in the diplomatic corps, but this hardly seemed the moment to mention that. Perhaps she should explain why she had changed, tell him what she had seen, tell him how deeply she had been wounded. If ever there was a moment for honesty, this was it.

And yet she couldn’t. Her mouth would not form the words, would not allow that degree of vulnerability. If she stuck with her plan, there would be far less chance she could be hurt again. “I was only acting as I have been instructed since birth. Men do not want wives who are too studious. No girl wants to be called a bluestocking.”

“No, something about you changed near the end, made you quit hiding who you really are.”

Or perhaps made her start to hide, but he did not seem to have considered that. “Does it matter? You didn’t want me but I was not ready to let go, because I do want you on some level I do not understand.”

“Yes, it matters. Are you the girl who wants to be a proper young lady or are you the one who will do what is right?”

Or perhaps he had considered. “Can’t I be both and more? I never pretended that I was not full of contradictions, but which of us is not? A proper young lady would not be here.” She waved her arm wide.

“That is true and brings us back to the point, Angela. Were you hiding who you were then—or do you act a part now?”

He did ask difficult questions. “Are we not always acting? And who always displays her true self for all to see?”

His voice lowered. “I rather think you enjoy displaying yourself, my sweet.”

The color rose on her cheeks, but she would not be distracted by his implication, even if it might be far too close to the truth. “So do you always act as yourself? I know that I am not the first young lady you have pretended interest in and then abandoned when the situation began to warm. Is the well-mannered man I first met truly who you are? When you told me you liked the blue ribbon on the dress you now claim not to remember, were you speaking from your heart, or were you saying what was expected in the moment?”

“It is hard to be oneself before one knows the other. We all have secrets that we wish to keep.”

“That is perhaps my point. I might act in a certain way because it is expected, but only when I do not know the people I am with or for some reason I do not care. With those I know and trust, I do my best to be myself.”

“And did you ever think you knew me?” There was genuine curiosity in his voice.

“I thought I did; now I am not so sure.”

“And yet you claim you wished to marry me.”

“I wanted to marry the man I believed I knew.”

“And were you yourself with that man? You say that once you know someone, you try to act yourself. I cannot imagine having this conversation with that girl, the one who always looked at me as if I could do no wrong.”

Her eyes dropped to her lap, and again she wished she did not feel such the child with her feet swinging high above the floor. “No. I tried to be who you wanted me to be.”

“And is that not what you are still doing as you pretend to be willing to do anything I want?” He took a step closer.

“But I am willing.” That was the truth. She was willing—her reasons were just not those he knew.

“I suppose I phrased that incorrectly. I believe you are willing to do what you think I want, but so was that other you.”

This was the moment. She leaned forward, saw his eyes drop to her half-covered bosom. “Then why don’t you find out?”

His face clouded. “I thought we were done with this game.”

She smiled slightly. “I think you know better. The game is merely changing. I still want you.”

“But you are not willing to do anything I might ask.”

“It was not I who said stop.”

“No, but I could tell you were not truly willing. That you were not being honest.”

What could she say to that? “It would be hard for me to deny that I was uncomfortable with the situation. I have been honest all along that it is you I want.”

“And what are you willing to risk to get what you want?”