LITMIR.BIZ

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know something of hardship, and of being forced to make decisions that might compromise myself, for the sake of stability. I would not wish it on another.’

      ‘Many men would take advantage, given the circumstances. You held the deed yourself and could just has easily have used it against me.’

      ‘But I would not.’

      ‘I am sorry to create more work for you, when I can do nothing in return for you.’

      He sighed. ‘Some day, quite without even thinking, you might do a thing that seems like a trifle to you, but will make all my efforts on your part seem as nothing. Until then, do not trouble yourself. While it would be easy to accept what you are trying to give me, I fear you might live to regret it. If I succumb, in the end you will think me no better than Barton. You are safe now, but if Barton, or any other, should prove difficult, please feel free to call upon me.’ He started towards the window.

      She followed him, searching for something that might stay him a little longer. ‘Will I see you again?’

      He smiled. ‘It is likely. You have seen me many times before, you know. I certainly knew of you. But we have not been introduced until just recently. Now you know me, I suspect you will not be able to help but run into me again.’

      ‘I should like that.’ She touched his sleeve.

      He had reached the window and then turned back when he felt her touch. ‘I should like that as well. Under better circumstances.’ He put his hand on the sill, ready to lift himself over the edge.

      And she remembered the first night, when he had assured her of his character, and hazarded a bolt. ‘Your wife is very fortunate to have such an honest thief for a husband.’

      He pushed away from the sill and turned back to her. ‘Wife?’ He looked puzzled. ‘I have none.’

      ‘But when we first met—’

      ‘When I was robbing your jewel case,’ he reminded her.

      ‘You said that you had loved but once, and I thought perhaps…’

      He shook his head and stepped back into the room. He opened his mouth to speak, closed it again, and paused to take a deep breath. Then he said, ‘And this is where I admit the truth, and you think me a fool. I’ve loved but once. But she has never loved me. It has been years…We were childhood friends.’ He shook his head again and muttered, ‘That puts too fine a gloss on it.’ And then he admitted, ‘We were acquaintances. I was too terrified to speak to her.’

      ‘You, afraid to speak to a woman?’ She stared at him incredulously.

      He looked into her eyes and nodded. ‘I was then. And I still am, when it comes to her.’

      ‘Because she rejected you, all those years ago.’

      He shook his head. ‘She did not give that much thought to me, I’m afraid. I doubt she said three words to me in the time we knew each other. She married young and well.’ He looked up at her. ‘She is as high above me as you are. And as beautiful. But I doubt she would know me if we passed in the street. She has forgotten all about me. There can never be anything between us, of course. How can there be, if but one of us loves?’

      She took a step towards him. ‘But that is so sad. And you have kept yourself for her, all these years?’

      ‘Not as such. I have known the company of women, of course. But my heart is elsewhere. I do not wish to marry, if I cannot have her.’

      ‘But if you do not marry, you will not have children.’ The next question mocked her, but she forced herself to ask it. ‘Do you not wish for a son?’

      He looked genuinely puzzled. ‘I had not honestly given it much thought.’

      ‘You did not think on it?’ It was her turn to look puzzled. So many hours of her life and her husband’s had been consumed with the subject of children. And here was a man who did not think about it at all. ‘But you will have no heir.’

      ‘Of course I will have an heir. I am quite well stocked with nephews. I have two of them, and a niece as well. I have been “dear Uncle Tony” for so long I can hardly remember a time when I wasn’t. And I have done my share to raise them up. I always assumed that what was mine now would some day be theirs.’ He smiled fondly, as he thought of children that had been fathered by others.

      ‘But they are not yours,’ she insisted.

      ‘As much mine as anyone’s. Their fathers are long dead. They have stepfathers now, at last. So the burden is no longer solely mine.’

      ‘You do not care for children,’ she surmised.

      He shook his head. ‘You misunderstand. The raising of them was not so much of a burden, even at its worst. I like children. And I would welcome my own, should any appear through design or carelessness. But it has always seemed to me to be a frivolous thing to insist on raising the fruit of one’s loins when one is surrounded by windfalls.’

      He would not care, even if he has already guessed the truth. Her legs almost collapsed under her, her knees trembled so. ‘Then, if your wife could not give you children?’

      ‘If the wife of my choosing could not give me children?’ He sighed. ‘If I could but get her to give herself to me, it would be more than I ever expected. What kind of fool would I be to win my heart’s desire and then find fault with her for a thing that was not under our control?’

      What kind of fool would he be? A fool like her husband and all the other men of her acquaintance. Children did not matter to Tony. If he wanted her, he would have her, and not think twice about her infertility. There would be no snide offer of fun and games, followed by a pitying smile when the talk came to marriage.

      ‘It would not matter to me in the slightest. There is but one woman for me, Constance. And I will not love another, as long as there is life left in us, and even the smallest chance.’ He looked into her eyes and it was as if he were looking into her very soul and making the vow to her.

      He shook his head again and looked down, unable to meet her gaze. ‘I do not expect you to understand. It really sounds quite mad, when I explain it thus.’

      ‘Oh, no. I understand perfectly.’ And, suddenly, she did. It was possible to fall hopelessly in love with someone who was totally wrong for you, and even worse, could never love you back, because of a foolish fantasy of perfection that he’d been carrying with him for his entire life. How could one compete with that?

      He was smiling at her again. ‘That is most kind of you to say so. Because…’ He appeared to be about to speak. But he said nothing. There was a pause that seemed ready to become long and awkward.

      So there was nothing wrong with her. He did not wish to raise false hopes by a casual seduction that would lead nowhere. He respected her. She should feel more relief than frustration. She broke the silence. ‘Do not feel you need to explain yourself further. I think it is very noble of you. I have often wondered what it might be like to be as brave as you and to not care for reputation or stability, hazarding all for the sake of love. But I fear I am disappointingly practical, far too concerned with my own security in the distant future to risk following my heart on the moment. Still, I very much enjoy seeing others do so, and will pray fervently for your good fortune. I fear some of us are not destined to feel that kind of grand passion.’

      If possible, he looked even more mortified than he had the night she came to him to ask for the deed. He coloured again, and his eyes fell. And when he looked up, his expression was earnest, as it had been when she had seen him in the library. ‘Do not say that. Do not ever say that. You deserve all that love can give, and you should settle for nothing else.’ And when he pulled her to him, it was shockingly sudden and she had just enough time to lift her face to his kiss.

      It wasn’t the same kiss that he had taken from her on the night they met. This one was hard and demanding. A soul-deep kiss, full of desire. And she kissed him back, hoping that the night might

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