Page 62 of Redemption

“No,” she cried out with an anguish that etched its way into the depths of her soul. “Our child is dead.”

The look on Lionel’s face made her heart slam into her chest with regret as she realized she’d erred in thinking it wouldn’t matter to him that he’d lost a child. Regret spiraled through her at the way she’d revealed the truth in such a brutally shocking manner. Dismayed by her lapse in good judgement, she stared at him uncertain of what to say. The stillness in the room was cold and unmoving. It settled between them like a heavy weight as Lionel stared at her in disbelief. After several moments, he shook his head as if by doing so he could dismiss what he’d heard.

“Dead?” he rasped.

Like a violent thunderstorm, anger swirled through her. Years ago, his expression would have incited her to go to him and offer comfort, but today it simply filled her with a deep bitterness. Why should she feel the need to console him when he’d left her? He’d left her alone to deal with the responsibility and the pain.

“Yes,” she said in a harsh, brittle voice. “The midwife was correct. I did have a child, but not a daughter. I had a son who only lived three days before he was taken from me.”

“Sweet Jesus, Beatrice,” Lionel’s voice was restrained and rough with emotion. “If I’d known—”

“What? You wouldn’t have deserted me?” she sneered with contempt.

“I did not abandon you.” Anger slashed across his features as he took a step toward her. “You made the choice not to marry me the day you didn’t come to the chapel.”

“Didn’t come—you’re the one who didn’t come as promised,” Beatrice exclaimed with cold resentment. “You walked away, and I was left to pick up the pieces.”

“Walked away?” His voice was a rumble of thunder in the salon as fury darkened his features. It emphasized the rising storm surrounding them. “I never walked away. I sent my brother to the chapel to escort you to the ship. There were problems with the ship’s cargo manifest that Terrence didn’t know how to fix. He offered to bring you to the docks so we wouldn’t miss the evening tide.”

“Do you honestly expect me to believe your lies?” she gasped in horror at the blatant falsehood. “No one came. Not you—and certainly not your brother.”

“Christ almighty, Beatrice, I’m telling you the truth,” he growled. “When Terrence returned without you, he said you’d sent word to the reverend you’d had a change of heart. I couldn’t believe it and was determined to go after you, but Terrence said he’d already visited your house. He said your butler wouldn’t tell him where—”

Lionel came to an abrupt halt in his explanation, and a look of stunned disbelief settled on his face. As he stared at her, she saw a bleak emotion flash in the depths of his dark eyes. His gaze reflected a look of stark pain, and it triggered feelings deep inside her. Was it possible he was telling her the truth? She quickly discounted the thought. The idea of subjecting herself to more lies was too unbearable.

“I don’t know what you thought to gain with this fanciful tale, my lord, but this conversation is at an end,” she said hoarsely.

His only response to her icy words was a nod of his head. It was obvious he’d barely registered her remark. Startled that he’d not protested her decree, she stared at him with suspicion. Doubt, incredulity, and anger hardened his features as he rubbed the back of his neck and studied the floor in obvious contemplation.

“He lied. Your family didn't have a butler,” Lionel muttered. As if trying to comprehend something unfathomable, he shook his head in puzzled uncertainty while he continued to have a quiet discussion with himself. “He lied to me. If he'd actually gone to your house, he would have known you didn't have a butler. He lied and like a fool…like a fool I believed him. Why would he lie when he knew I loved you?”

The confession that he’d been in love with her made Beatrice’s heart slam into her chest and stop for a long moment before it resumed its beat. Once more the possibility that Lionel was telling the truth unfurled inside her? Was it possible his brother, not Lionel, had been the one to destroy her happiness so cruelly? Confusion slowly wove its way through her as she watched Lionel begin to prowl the floor continuing to mutter to himself. Was it possible he hadn’t deserted her after all? If that was the case they’d both suffered. A knot formed in her throat as she watched him pace like a caged predator ready to pounce at the first opportunity. When he abruptly came to a halt, Beatrice stiffened as he slowly turned to face her.

“He lied to me, Beatrice. I’m a fool for having believed him. I should have seen through his lies. I have no excuse for believing him other than I was out of my mind with despair at the thought of having lost you. I should not have allowed him to stop me from going after you,” he rasped. Anger and grief darkened his features as he met her gaze. “I would never have left England without you if Terrence hadn’t been so damn convincing. Until this moment, I truly believed you had changed your mind.”

The confession caused her to waver, and she struggled with the idea of accepting that he was telling her the truth. In the end, it didn’t matter anymore. The past was gone and could never be regained. Closing her eyes for a brief moment, she shook her head.

“I want you to leave, Lionel.” She saw him take a step forward, and she quickly retreated. “Now.”

“I didn’t walk away from you, Beatrice,” he said in a rough voice that echoed with a pain that made her want to believe him. “I loved you. I have never stopped loving you. It’s why I never married.”

The declaration made her gasp, and she swayed slightly as she tried to comprehend what he was saying to her. A chill skimmed its way across her skin in the same way the first layer of winter ice formed on the pond at Green Hill House. An invisible, icy finger scraped down her back as she shook her head. She didn’t have the courage to risk her heart again.

“The past can’t be undone.” Beatrice looked away from him as pain clawed away at her heart. “We cannot go back.”

“You’re right. We can’t go back, but we can go forward. I love you, and I refuse to let you go a second time.”

Beatrice drew in a sharp breath at the quiet, resolute sincerity in his voice. It made her waver in her belief that he’d betrayed her. It was the final blow that shattered her belief he'd betrayed her all those years ago. But she was no longer the woman she'd once been. When Alfred had died, she'd learned how to be alone. She'd become self-sufficient, and she liked being independent. Deep inside she questioned whether she was making a mistake, but she ignored the possibility. She was too old to start over. She drew in another breath that was as painful as the last.

“It’s impossible,” she said with a shake of her head as she met his resolute gaze then looked away.

"Why?" he demanded.

"Because I like my life as it is now. I have no need of a husband."

“What about love, Beatrice? Have you no need of love?" His question made her heart skip a beat as she met his penetrating gaze then looked away. Panic swept through her as she frantically dismissed the hope that had already taken root inside her.

"I'm no longer that starry-eyed young girl."