“But could I? If I have a child out of wedlock, all of my respectability goes away. I know that you wouldn’t condemn me to that sort of life.”
“I want the world for you, Venetia,” he whispered.
When he stretched his hand out over the gap between us this time, I let our fingers brush, knowing that it might be the last time we touched. “Then don’t think too harshly of me for what I am about to tell you.”
And I laid out my plan for him. Every detail except for where I would go for my confinement. He listened, as I told him in no uncertain terms that I intended to cut him out of my life. The longer I spoke, the more the distance between us felt like an insurmountable chasm.
I wouldn’t have forgiven me.
When I’d finished, Matthew looked down at our hands lightly touching fingertip to fingertip. “I’ve sat at Wisteria Farm these past weeks, trying to think of what I might have done. Why you might have pulled away from me, when you are all I think of.” He lifted his eyes to mine. “There is another way, Venetia.”
I shook my head. “I’ve considered everything.”
“No you haven’t.”
“Yes, I ha—”
“Marry me.”
I jerked back. “Marry you?”
“Marry me, please,” he repeated, his voice cracking as he grasped for me.
I tried to twist my wrist out of his grip. “You don’t have to do this. I have a plan.”
“Stop talking about your plan. I don’t like your bloody plan one bit!” His voice rang out the harshest I’d ever heard from him.
I stepped back. “I cannot marry you.”
“Why not? Can you honestly say that you feel nothing for me?” he asked.
I couldn’t, and both of us knew it.
He brushed a bit of my hair from my forehead. “I know that what we have has not been a passing fancy for you—you took an incredible risk.” When I said nothing, he tried another tack. “You spoke of your respectability.”
“It’s the one thing I have,” I said.
“You have me. You have our child,” he said tenderly.
My resolve nearly faltered. I wanted so badly to believe in the words he offered me, but they were just words.
“Your sister won’t stand for it. She dislikes me,” I said.
“Helen is not my keeper, Venetia.”
“I know that the Melcourts are your landlords. You would lose Wisteria Farm.”
His jaw tightened. “And the income my brother-in-law gives me each year as part of my sister’s marriage settlement. But what dignity would I have as a man if I let that keep me from my responsibilities?”
“Even if we did marry, people would talk,” I pushed.
“People want to believe in love.”
“People want to believe in the fallacy of others,” I countered.
“Are you always so cynical?” he asked with a smile.
I planted my hands on my hips. “Are you always so idealistic?”
Rather than responding, he wrapped his arms around me.
“I’ve found the woman I’m going to marry. What man wouldn’t be idealistic?” he murmured into my hair.
In spite of my better judgment, I melted into him. I craved his reassurance.
“How would we do it?” I asked.
He gave a short laugh. “Well, I expect that we probably won’t be wed in All Soul’s in the village, if that’s what you mean.”
“There’s only so much longer that I can keep the child a secret.”
“Then we’ll follow your plan. Together,” he said.
“Go away?”
“Yes. We’ll marry quietly and go on a tour of Italy or Spain. It will look like our honeymoon, and it will allow you to go into your confinement. After a month, we’ll write home and tell everyone that we fell in love with the countryside and have decided to stay a little bit longer. You’ll have the baby. We’ll announce the birth nine months after the wedding. When we return in a couple of years with a child who is a little taller than other two-year-olds, who will know the difference?”
There were still risks. One false move, one spilled word. The scandal could destroy both of our families. If I were a better woman, I would have walked away right then and there. Instead, I swallowed and nodded. “Then we’ll marry.”
He caught my face up in both of his hands and touched our foreheads together. “You will not regret it. I promise you.” He stepped back. “I should return to the house. Helen will be looking for me.”