There was light in the kitchen, a sign she was home. All he had to do was knock on the door and yet, his feet didn’t move—
The door opened. Gemma came out the back carrying a heavy bucket.
Without hesitation, Ned moved to her. She started as if she didn’t expect anyone to be out there in the night. Of course, after the experiences she’d had, no wonder she was nervous.
She recognized him and went very still. He wrapped a hand around the bucket handle, taking it from her. She watched, her expression wary in the kitchen light.
“I had to see you.” No flowery phrases. No excuses. Just truth. “Perhaps I can come in—?”
“No.” She took a step back.
He sensed something was wrong. “We need to talk.”
“And say what?”
“That is the part I’ve been trying to reason out. So many words flood my mind—”
“Then don’t say anything,” she answered woodenly and would have turned away—
“Gemma, I—well, today, we kissed. And I thought I would be able to put it out of my mind, save I can’t.”
“You must.” Her breathing was shallow and tight. This was not what he wanted.
He set the bucket down. Came forward. “It is not that easy. I thought I could let matters lie, and yet, all I can think about is you—”
She held up a hand, stopping him. “The kiss meant nothing. We discussed it. It’s behind us.”
Her denial brought a flash of anger, until he realized she didn’t meet his eye. “You’re lying.”
She stiffened, before whispering, “I’m lying.” Expressive eyes met his. “I’m so lying. But there can’t be a we. No us. You are promised to someone else.”
“Yes, I’ve been thinking about that. It is a difficulty—”
“A difficulty? You gave your word to one of the kindest, most defenseless of women in not just the village but the world. Mr. Thurlowe—”
“Ned.”
“What?”
“My name is Ned. I want to hear you use my given name as you say what I believe you are about to say.”
“We can’t do this . . . Ned.”
He turned. Stared into the darkness before picking up the bucket and tossing the contents across the lawn. He faced her. “We can.”
“We mustn’t. And we don’t even know what this is. I barely know you. I annoy you. We are enemies.”
“I love you.” The words flowed out of him.
For a second he didn’t know who was more startled—her or himself. However, once spoken, once released to the night air, the power of that simple statement reverberated around them.
She closed her eyes. “No, Ned, don’t. You can’t.”
“But I already do, Gemma. I love you. I also know you have feelings for me. It was there in your kiss.”
Her eyes opened, her gaze clear, troubled, honest. “Feelings that should never be acted upon.”
“And yet, we did. Now they are here, and how can we deny them?” She started to shake her head, to offer more resistance. He wouldn’t let her. “We don’t have to live here.” He’d never imagined he would say such a thing. Maidenshop was the only true home he’d ever known. The only place where he’d felt welcomed.
Except, he sensed he could be happy wherever he was, if he was with Gemma. “We can find a place that is ours alone.”
“Ned, life doesn’t work that way. You know that. And we are two people with big dreams. We’d come to hate each other if we did this the wrong way.”
She was right.
“And it is more than our running away,” she continued. “My husband betrayed me with many women. He didn’t honor his vows. I hated the way he made me feel. I can’t do that to Clarissa. She doesn’t deserve it.”
“Let Mars marry her,” he said. He spoke desperately. He knew that would never happen.
“And yet, you are the one who asked her. Could you truly renege on your promise, Ned? Without you, she has no future—except being a governess or a companion . . . and you and I know how cruel the world can be for anyone without family.”
He did know. Too well.
Ned didn’t want to let go of these fledgling feelings he had for Gemma. He didn’t completely understand what was happening. He’d never experienced wanting to open his life to another, or to even trust a woman. To have her by his side. What swirled inside him was, yes, desire and lust and need, but also a yearning to be the man he’d spent the afternoon imagining he could be with Gemma in his life. He could see it clearly now. She, alone, held the key.
There was no other for him.
“Gemma,” he said, her name a plea, and a blessing. “I don’t trust very many people, and none who are female, and yet, I’m placing my heart before you. I can’t imagine my life with any other.” He leaned toward her—she stopped him with a shake of her head.
“No, Ned. No.” Before he realized it, she stepped back and shut the door.
He stood there both stunned and angry. He wanted to break things. He wanted to rip down the door. He wanted to leap into the past and call back his promise to Clarissa because he’d been a fool to not imagine that Gemma would come into his life.
Instead, he leaned his palms against the door. He could sense her there. Waiting.
He whispered, “Gemma, I am not a man who pays attention to feelings. They make you vulnerable and then people can hurt and even destroy you . . . except I don’t feel that way about you. Please, help me. Since the moment we laid eyes on each other that first morning, you have rarely been far from my thoughts. It defies logic. I don’t understand what is happening or why, except I’ve never needed anyone in my life. I’ve refused to need them . . . until you. You challenge me, you argue with me, you infuriate me, and I love you. We can’t leave it here.”
Her answer was silence.
Damnable silence. And then, slowly, he accepted that she was right.
The realization made him push back from the door.
Maybe tomorrow she’d come to him—and then he would have to be the one strong enough for the both of them to say no.
That didn’t make this moment any easier.
He lightly rested his palm against the weathered wood of the door. She was still there. He believed he could feel her heartbeat in the air between them.
He loved . . . and that alone for a boy who had grown up abandoned was a miracle.
Ned left. He didn’t bother following the water. Instead, he walked for the road. As he reached it, he glanced over at Mrs. Warbler’s house. There was no light in the window, or lurking figure. That didn’t mean she wasn’t watching. She was known to be a clever spy.
However, at this point, he didn’t care. He made his way home.
Chapter Sixteen
Life had a way of continuing whether a person wanted it to or not. Ned had learned this lesson through many disappointments . . . but none had left him as unsure about himself as parting with Gemma.
And, yes, he understood he barely knew her. Yet, from the beginning he’d been drawn to her. He’d blamed it on the vibrant color of her hair, the determined set of her chin, her claim to being a healer. Now he understood that what had truly caught his attention was her fearlessness. She hadn’t hesitated in challenging him—something Clarissa Taylor could never do, and not through any fault of her own. He was her only chance to cling to the only life she’d known. She lacked Gemma’s boldness.