The Spinster (Emerson Pass Historicals 2) - Page 31

“I’m not sure. Four, I think,” I said. “Actually, I know. There were five. All with the same expectations as you.”

“Why would he do such a thing?”

“He was interested in moving up in the world. In fact, that was his main goal. He targeted women he thought could bring him social standing and wealth.”

Her bottom lip trembled as if she might cry, but instead she seemed to gather herself. A tone eerily calm but with unmistakable anger delivered the next words. “Why should I believe you?”

My answer came quickly and surprisingly articulately. “Why did you believe him? You knew him for two weeks before declaring yourself in love with him. Did you truly know him, or was he merely someone you wanted him to be?”

“I’m not that kind of person. I’m not a romantic fool.”

“You can choose what you believe or not, but I’m incapable of lying. Even small fibs.” I bowed my head in deference to her. “Anyway, I’ve no motive for lying to you.”

“You carried my photograph in your pocket.” She said it matter-of-factly while staring right at me with eyes that bored into me.

I swallowed as a wave of heat flooded through me. What defense did I have? She’d understood my reasons only too well. “Yes, I did.”

“Perhaps your reason for telling me these astonishing things are to make him look bad so that you might…might try to make an argument for yourself.”

“Yes, my intentions were selfishly motivated, but I ask only that you examine what you thought you knew about him carefully. Go back over the conversations and his letters as if you’re a detective. You’ll see gaps and lack of details in his stories. Read him like you would a book. After tonight, I’ll leave you be, but I’m pleading with you not to ruin the rest of your life over a false promise. He didn’t have the photograph in his pocket like he said he did.”

“Your reasons for coming here and telling me this were purely selfish,” she said.

“Regardless of my feelings that are not completely benevolent, I’m telling you the truth about Walter. Yes, I fell a little in love with you in the pages of your letters.” I raised my arms over my head and let out a deep breath. No more dalliances in the vague shade of gray. I would tell her the exact truth. “Actually, I fell deeply in love with you. So much so that I risked your wrath by coming here and telling you what I know to be true. A truth which will surely get me cast away. Don’t you see? I had to take the risk. To find you here pining away for a man who was no better than a charlatan—that’s reason enough for me to tell you. You’ve given up the possibility of happiness with a man deserving of your love for the memory of a man who lied to you. I can’t leave here thinking you’ll choose spinsterhood for that man.”

All color had drained from her face. Her eyes were wide and glittery, almost as if she had a fever. “Is that why you came here? To win me? Is it some sick game to beat Walter?”

“God, no. It’s about you, not him. I fell in love with you.” I hung my head. “But I’ve done nothing but hurt you. I’m sorry I’ve caused you pain.”

“You didn’t do this.” A tremor in her voice made my chest ache with guilt. Why hadn’t I left well enough alone? I was an awful, grasping man who deserved to be alone and isolated. “It was Walter who lied, not you.”

“Still, I hate to see you hurt. It’s the last thing I would ever want.”

She jerked to her feet and went to the fireplace. With her back to me, she used a poker to spread out the embers, then with a quick movement grabbed a skinny piece of wood and hurled it into the fire. “How did you know how many women there were?” She whipped back round. The color had returned to her cheeks. “How did you know about them? Did he brag? Did he laugh at me?”

“No. A man like that—the way he’d had to scrape his way along to keep himself from starvation—this was a means of survival. He thought of it more like an investment in his future. The outcome he wanted was more likely to happen if he had more than one woman in love with him.”

She bit out the words. “By tricking women into thinking he was in love and wanted to marry them? Marry us? Yes, I suppose it’s an us. Five of us. There are other ways to get what you want out of life. Opportunities that come along for honest, hardworking men.”

“Which he wasn’t.”

“I believed every word out of his mouth. Every word in his letters.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” I said as gently as I could. “He was good at the art of seduction.”

“I’ve prided myself in being practical. Not like some of my girlfriends, so quick to declare themselves in love when really it’s just an idea they’re attracted to. What a fool I was. I did exactly as they had. Papa was right.”

I watched her helplessly. What did I do now? She believed me, yet I’d hurt her. Secondarily, she now understood my reasons for coming here.

She stumbled back to the chair and sank down into the cushion. “Do you think I could have a small glass of whiskey? Pour one for yourself, too.”

I sprang to my feet to retrieve her request. My hands shook as I poured us each a tumbler. “Here,” I said. “Sip, though, so you don’t choke.”

She mumbled a thanks as she stared into the glass.

“I’ve hurt you. That was never my intention. I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”

The anger seemed to drain out of her along with a sigh. “Don’t be sorry. Despite my reaction, you’re right. The truth is better. Pining away for a mendacious ghost is not the way to live one’s life.”

Tags: Tess Thompson Emerson Pass Historicals Historical
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