Page 77 of A Relentless Rake

“I had no choice. Even if my father and brother had tried to save my honor, any public declaration of what Samuel and I had done would only result in destroying the reputation of my family and the school. Who would send their children to a schoolmaster who couldn’t even protect the virtue of his own daughter? The school would have closed, and we’d have been kicked penniless into the streets.” She paused at the fireplace, and with a scowl at herself, she bent to pick up the poker. “We were already struggling financially, and when Lord and Lady Deering withdrew their support, the school nearly went bankrupt.”

“They pulled out their support after what their son had done to you?”

“You shouldn’t be surprised.” She gave the coals a hard, punishing stir before placing the poker back into the rack. “After all, there was no way to hold them accountable for that either.”

She held her hands up to the small fire as if to warm herself against the night. And against the memories.

“But it was such a blow to Papa,” she whispered into the fire. “He never recovered from it.” She dropped her hands and straightened her spine. “He was dead less than two years later.”

His throat constricted in grief for her. The shame and guilt that must have consumed her…Thatwas why she’d shut herself away behind a façade of propriety and false virtue, why she always did whatever Henry Everett asked of her, including letting him claim her mathematical work as his own. Because of that, she would never again break the rules or defy anyone in her family, not even her traitorous brother.

“That wasn’t your fault,” he insisted hoarsely.

“Wasn’t it?” She turned to confront him. Her hands clenched into tiny, frustrated fists at her sides as her pain transformed into self-recrimination. “My deception hurts people. Isn’t that what you said?”

His parting words to her at St James House…How many people have you misled? How many people have you hurt?Christ.

Apologetically, he closed the distance between them. “Olivia—”

She retreated a step to keep away from him, and the small movement stabbed him.

“You were right,” she admitted. “I did harm my family, threatened the school…all because I was selfish.”

“Because you were in love,” he corrected forcefully, as if he could make her believe that from sheer will alone. He cursed himself for every harsh word he’d said to her that night at St James House. “That wasn’t your fault either.”

Dismissing that with a headshake, she crossed to the window. She looked out at the blackness, but he was certain she could see nothing but her own faint reflection in the glass.

“I stayed here, took over the management of the school, and did my best to keep it running,” she whispered into the darkness. “I let the world believe that I was still a proper young lady who hadn’t eloped and let herself be ruined, who could still be trusted to educate their daughters.” She lifted her hand to the window and rested it against the cold glass. “So yes, I’ve lied to the world, but for the exact opposite reason you thought.” She drew her fingertip over the pane in a slow circle, as if drawing the nighttime shadows. “I did it to keep from causing any more harm to the people I love.”

Every soft word of her story cut into him, and self-recrimination weighed on his chest like a lead ball.

Always, he’d believed that anyone who deceived the world about their true nature deserved his disdain, deserved to be punished for their lies…until now. Olivia had upended his world. His father had hidden his evil behind a façade of propriety; behind hers, Olivia had only hidden her shame and pain.

“There. I’ve told you everything.” She turned to face him and defiantly put her hands on her hips despite the wounds she carried. It was a battle stance if ever he’d seen one, and a warning not to hurt her again. “Do you trust me now?”

“Yes.” He sat on her bed and leaned forward, his hands folded between his knees and his expression grave. “I was wrong about you, and I am deeply sorry for it. I do trust you.” He sucked in a deep breath and asked the most important question of his life. “But doyoutrust me?”

Her hands fell away to her sides in surprise, yet a storm churned intensely in her eyes. The shadows between them crackled with electricity, and he felt every breath she took, every tremble that shivered through her, even from ten feet away.

“Yes,” she breathed, no sound on her lips. “I trust you.”

Relief burned through him, and his head slumped between his shoulders. Her soft words came as a benediction, one that purged him of the old pain he’d carried with him since he was a boy and filled him with new hope, new acceptance and forgiveness.

Trust. He’d never realized how gaping the void of it had been in his life until Olivia was here, filling it.

He’d promised to save her. He’d start by setting her free.

Silently, he held out his hand.

Twenty

Olivia stared at Alec’s outstretched hand, yet she didn’t take it.

She knew what he wanted from her, knew how surrendering to the yearning to be in his arms would change everything between them. The joining of bodies, the melding of desires…a woman was never more vulnerable than when she lay beneath a man and allowed him inside her, his strength and weight pressing her down, his arms entrapping her. He was asking her for the ultimate expression of trust.

Could she give it?

Aware of each beat of her pounding heart and every slow breath, she stepped toward him with so much trepidation that she trembled. How would she survive another wounding by a man she loved?