Page 130 of Outrageous

“Who told you about the child? I will not be lied to and manipulated. You can answer me honestly, or I will open the door and shove you out of the carriage, I give you my word on it.”

His heartbeat thundered in his ears and his entire body broke out into a sweat. “Eva, darling, I don’t doubt you for an instant, but—”

“Don’t call me that,” she snapped.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “Don’t go, Eva,” he begged when she began to pull away. “Please, don’t go.” Braving a broken nose, he leaned toward the dim outline of her face. “Are you pregnant, Eva? With my child?”

She pushed him away in an instant. “This is my child, and if this entire farce was concocted to—”

“Eva.” To his surprise, she stopped. “I knew nothing about any child. You have my word.”

“It makes no sense,” she said after a long moment, her voice thick. “Why would you say you regret what you did? If you didn’t know about the baby, why would you say—”

“Because I love you, Eva. I love you, and I’m a liar. I lied to you that last day and I lied to you on those few, oh-so-precious days we were together.” Godric stared into the darkness, desperately wishing she could see him, even though it would expose his shame to her eyes. “Pull back the curtains, Eva.”

A moment passed before one of the curtains opened halfway. Her face was tear-streaked and agonized. “I don’t understand you,” she said, her voice pulsing with pain. “Why would you say such a thing if it wasn’t true? I have never, ever felt the way I did for—”

“I said it because I was a coward.”

She slumped back against the bench, clearly—and justifiably—overwhelmed by his insane reasoning.

“I told you I had a wife, but I also had a child.”

Her eyes opened slowly.

“He died along with his mother. I was too late to save either of them that day. You accused me weeks ago of having the war hysteria. I believe you were right—but not just from years on campaign. I think I became mad from the losses that came so fast, so relentlessly.” He cleared his throat and stared up at the roof of the carriage, blinking rapidly. “You would think losing two people at once would cause a single pain, but it doesn’t: it’s not all of a piece, it is two overwhelmingly huge pains that buffet you ceaselessly. I became lost in my agony and received an injury thanks to my inability to focus. And because I was in the hospital, my family came to see me. And because my family came to see me—”

She crawled onto his lap, straddling him, and wrapped her arms around his body.

“And then it wasn’t two deaths I mourned, but nine, Eva.”

Nine. Eva tried to imagine losing nine people she loved. That would be everyone; Godric had lost everyone.

He pressed his face against her hair. “I hoped I would die, but I couldn’t kill myself—why not die in the cause. But then I made it through the worst battle in the war without a scratch.” He gave a hollow, humorless laugh. “And as time passed, the inconceivable happened, I began to get better. What kind of heartless, soulless beast could not only survive such destruction, but begin to thrive?”

Eva had no answer and was bitterly relieved when he did not expect one.

“So I thought I could avenge my family. When that was done, my life would be over, one way or another. But of course you came along and, thank God, foiled my plans.” He dug his chin into her shoulder as if to pull her closer, reminding her that the poor man was still bound hand and foot.

“You are like some magnificent, formidable force of nature, Eva, like a comet or a shooting star in human form. I saw what was happening to me as if I were an observer in my own body, watching myself become captivated by your fire.”

Eva swallowed with a noisy gulp, her arms tightening until they hurt.

He kissed her jaw, cheek, ear—anything he could reach. “Oh, my love. I thought I could not live through all of it again, Eva. I thought I could not bear having one more person to love. How could I ever want one more person whom I could lose? But when you were gone, I realized that living without you—most especially because of my own idiocy and cowardice—was far worse than the fear of one day losing you.”

Eva squeezed him tight, her eyes streaming. “You are no coward, Godric. You are the bravest man I know. And you are the only man I’ve ever loved.” She pulled away just enough to capture his mouth with hers.

He groaned as she assaulted and invaded, tongues and teeth clashing, the taste of copper mixing with salty tears.

* * *

Meanwhile . . .

Andrew turned to James as the postilions slowed their teams to a trot. “Give it another listen, will you?”

“It’s only been a quarter of an hour,” James said.

“Yes, but you said things were sounding, er, rather violent. Perhaps it would be wise to check.”