Page 49 of To Dance with a Devil

He paused and looked up to find she was staring at her hands, winding the ribbons of the pretty dressing gown back and forth around her fingers.

“In the space of a few seconds I went from being so happy and relieved, to utter despair. I thought… I thought you were dead for a moment,” he said, his voice cracking. It took several seconds to steady himself and try again. “And I hardly had time to feel the joy of discovering you were alive before I heard that we’d lost the baby.”

He saw her flinch at his words, saw her eyes fill, but he carried on, needing to get the words out now, needing her to hear them.

“I came to you, Bonnie, and I wanted to weep. I wanted to hold you and have you hold me and grieve together for what we’d lost but… but you turned me away, and then you said you didn’t want me anymore.” It took him a long moment before he could speak again, and when he saw the tear roll down her cheek, he almost didn’t say it, but he had to, needed to. “That was the worst moment of my life. I never knew anything could hurt so much as you hurt me then.”

There was a taut silence, and then Bonnie flung herself at him and burst into tears.

“I’m s-sorry,” she sobbed, inconsolable now. “I’m s-so s-sorry.”

Jerome gathered her up before she tumbled from the bed and settled himself beside her on the mattress, her head on his chest as they cried together. He let it go on for a while until he caught her eye and then he laughed.

“What a watering pot you’ve turned me into, you wretch. All my manly pride out the window.”

Her tears came to a shuddering halt, and she looked up at him. Her nose was red and her eyes watery, and he’d never loved her more. He felt his heart might burst with it.

“I know you never wanted to m-marry me,” she said, and when he opened his mouth to object, she glared at him. “The truth! You promised.”

Jerome frowned, finding it hard to remember the time when he’d been foolish enough to believe he was doing his duty because he had no choice.

“To begin with,” he admitted. “To begin with, I was only doing what I thought I must, and when I discovered you were pregnant, well, there was no getting out of it.”

“There’s no getting out of it,” she repeated, as though she was reciting something. “I’ve been such a bloody fool.”

Jerome’s head jerked up as he stared at her.

“You wrote that to your brother,” she said.

He closed his eyes, trying to remember exactly what he’d written. “You read my private letters?” he asked, his voice even.

Bonnie stiffened in his arms. “Not on purpose. You left it out on the desk. I only saw the first few lines where it wasn’t quite folded. I didn’t snoop and read the rest of it.”

Jerome cursed and let out a breath. “The next time you feel the need to go prying in my private correspondence, could you have the decency to do the thing properly, please?”

She stared at him and it took him a moment to speak as he needed to count to ten, or possibly a thousand. “If you had troubled to look at the rest of the letter, you’d have come away with a rather different opinion, Bonnie,” he said, struggling not to lose his temper.

There was anxiety in her eyes, and he let out a breath, tightening his arms about her as she laid her head on his chest once more.

“Bonnie,” he said, softly now, and he wondered if she could hear the frantic thudding of his heart, because to him it sounded like an enthusiastic marching band was living in his chest. “Bonnie, do… do you still love me?”

He looked down, waiting for her to raise her head and meet his eyes again. It seemed to take forever, so long that he felt breathless and giddy, what with the ridiculous pounding of his heart and the fact he’d forgotten how to breathe. When she finally did, her eyes were bright and her cheeks flushed.

“I never stopped,” she said.

“Oh,” he said, all the breath that had been locked in his lungs leaving him in a rush. “Oh, thank God.” It took several seconds to gather his wits and when it finally happened it was accompanied by a furious rush of anger. “Then why the bloody hell did you ask me for an annulment?” he demanded, sitting up so quickly that she was flung down upon the mattress. He glared at her, and the flurry of ruffles that covered the generous swell of her breasts fluttered as she breathed.

“Because I love you, and I want you to be h-happy,” she stammered, blinking up at him. “Because I thought I ought to set you free.”

Jerome stared at her in outrage, so stunned by the stupidity of what had happened between them he didn’t know how to react. He drew in a long breath and then let it out again slowly. “No wonder Mother wants to murder us,” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face.

Bonnie watched him, her eyes filled with anxiety and unshed tears.

“Oh, Bonnie,” he said, uncertain of whether he ought to laugh or cry, and suspecting he would soon be reduced to some mortifying combination of the two. “You ridiculous, dreadful girl. Can’t you see that I love you, that I’ve been falling harder and harder ever since the day we met?” Her eyes widened, but she said nothing, just stared up at him. “I adore you,” he whispered, smiling now as her face grew blurry. “I never want to be without you, and losing our baby broke my heart. I’m relying on you to help me put it back together again. Can you do that for me, Bonnie? Please. Because I’ve been so utterly wretched, and I can’t go on like this.”

“Oh, Jerome,” she sobbed, and tugged him down to her.

Jerome wrapped her in his arms and pulled her close and kissed her, softly, tenderly, with all the need he had been holding in since the moment Mr Knight had carried her through the door. They didn’t speak for a very long time, just held each other as their hearts settled into the peace between them, with no more doubts or misunderstandings.