Page 70 of The Rogue’s Offer

“It’s the truth,” he said with quiet firmness. “I love you, and I came to tell you that and ask your forgiveness.”

“Then your journey was a waste of time.” Ophelia’s frigid words weren’t anywhere as cold as her icy gaze was.

The finality in her tone sank deep into his bones. Christ almighty, had his words at the Meacham affair completely destroyed any hope of healing the breech between them. Fear dried his mouth as she turned and began to walk back to Marymont.

“Ophelia. Wait,” he exclaimed as he stepped forward to catch her elbow then quickly released her. “At least hear me out.”

“No,” she snapped as she faced him. “You listen to me. I loathe you. There isn’t a man I know, living or dead, I despise more. There’s nothing more you can add to what you’ve already said. Nothing.”

“For God’s sake, Ophelia, please,” he said hoarsely. “I know I’m a bastard. I was wrong to ignore your wishes regarding Sabine. But that mistake pales in comparison to my behavior in Meacham’s library. The words I spoke were cruel—unforgivable.”

“And yet here you are, standing in front of me and having the temerity to ask for my forgiveness.”

“Damn it, I’m doing more than asking you to forgive me. I’m asking you to believe I love you. God knows, I don’t deserve your forgiveness, let alone your heart, but I’m asking you to give me the chance to be worthy of you. I love you deeper than any words I can express. I want to marry you. Even if you refuse to be my wife, at least let me spend the rest of my life loving you and giving you as much of the world as I can.”

As his voice died away, Mathias steadily met Ophelia’s gaze looking for some small sign that she’d believed the depth of his remorse and his declaration of love. It was impossible to determine what she was thinking, and his heartbeat thundered in his ears like a herd of wild horses. After a long moment of silence, she shook her head.

“You ask for something I cannot give, Mathias.” The soft words struck deep into his soul and sent pain crashing through him until his muscles were tied into knots.

“Cannot or will not?” His terse question made her narrow her gaze at him.

“Does it matter? You made your contempt for me quite clear that night in Lord Meacham’s library.”

“God help me, Ophelia, if I could take my words back, I would.” Mathias paused slightly as he saw something flicker in her soft brown eyes. Was he reaching her? “I was out of my mind with jealousy and anger thinking you’d accepted Chelmsford’s proposal.”

“Proposal?” For a brief second, confusion made her frown before her eyes widened with amazement then narrowed at him with an icy outrage. “You believed me capable of giving myself to you in a moment of passion even if I’d pledged myself to Gideon?”

“I was too angry to think straight. You’d been so adamant you wouldn’t marry again, and I believed the worst of you.”

“Your arrogance in thinking I couldn’t resist your touch is second only to your low opinion of me.” Beneath her anger he could see how deeply he’d injured her, and guilt hammered its way deep into him.

“The only low opinion I have of anyone is me. I knew better, but a man is capable of doing and saying terrible things when he’s afraid of losing the woman he loves. I will never be truly worthy of you, Ophelia, but I will spend the rest of my life trying to be if you’ll just let me love you.”

His quiet reply caused her eyes to flash with an emotion he couldn’t decipher, and the unreadable expression on her face sent fear crashing through him. Had he reached her? In the deep recesses of his mind a bleak possibility pushed its way forward. What if he failed to earn her forgiveness, let alone her heart?

It had been a long time since he’d prayed, but now he silently begged the almighty for help. The silence stretched out between them for a long moment as he waited for her to say something. He saw something that might have been regret darken Ophelia’s eyes before she shook her head.

“I want you to leave, Mathias. I want you to leave and never come back here ever again.”

The emotionless, quiet words were tangible blows to his body, and they inflicted a pain far greater than anything he’d ever experienced in his lifetime. He’d lost. The one thing in his life he needed as badly as the air he breathed was lost to him. Mathias stood frozen in place as he met her gaze. When he didn’t move, she turned away.

“Goodbye, Mathias.”

The soft words drifted over her shoulder as she walked away from him. It was only when she disappeared from sight that he realized he hadn’t moved because he’d been hoping for a miracle. Chelmsford, Louisa, Percy, they’d all been convinced she loved him, but they’d been wrong. They’d been so very wrong. Ophelia didn’t love him. Her words and deportment had illustrated far too well her opinion of him.

Ophelia despised him.

An invisible vise wrapped around Mathias’s chest so tightly the pain almost drove him to his knees. A man bound for the gallows couldn’t be more deeply immersed in hell than he was. But a condemned man never had long to wait before his torment ended. For Mathias, his torment would not end swiftly. His life would be nothing but a bleak, parched desert for years to come.

§ § §

Ophelia stepped into the mudroom and closed the door behind her. A small shudder rippled through her followed by another and then another. The violence of her trembling forced her to sink down onto the roughly-hewn bench next to the door. She leaned back and rested her head on the wall behind her. What had possessed Mathias to come to Marymont?

Although she tried to ignore it, his declaration of love echoed loudly in her head. All the way back to the house, a small voice had frantically urged Ophelia to turn around and run back to Mathias. Even if she had chosen to run back to him, how could she trust him again? How could she trust him never to treat her in the same way George had?

The voice in the back of her head chided her fiercely. Mathias was nothing like George. With the exception of the cruel words he’d spoken that night in the Meacham library, he’d always treated her honorably. He’d proven that the night she’d chosen to enter his bed and experience passion in his arms. Mathias had tried desperately to stop her from doing something he believed she would regret. Even when he’d paid the balance of her bill with Sabine, he’d done so for no other reason than simple generosity and an attempt to ease her financial worries.

The mere fact that he’d paid the bill without her knowledge demonstrated he’d had no ulterior motives or expectations as the result of his actions. Then there was Edgar suddenly returning control of her finances to her. She had no proof of Mathias’s intervention, but she was certain he’d played a role in that as well. No. The only reason he could have had for coming to Marymont was precisely for the reason he’d said. He loved her.