Chapter Seventeen

Bloody hell.

Would this dismal day never end? He blew out the last lamp in the shop. It had been raining for seemingly forever, and since there had been no business in the shop for the last few hours, Peregrine had determined he would close early. Like the bitter man he'd become over the past handful of days, he wanted tea, a blanket, and Matey would no doubt be missing him. For a summer afternoon, there was a bit of a chill in the air thanks to the rain, and the dog tended to howl at the raindrops. That couldn't be good for his neighbors at The Albany.

Not that it mattered.

Since his last conversation with Viscount Maubrey, he hadn't pondered hard enough on a plan that would win Cora back or entice her away from the dragon who guarded her. And that had made him more disgruntled than before.

With one last look around, he crossed the wooden floor, opened the door, and went outside. The rain beat down on his top hat in a steady rhythm; water dripped from his brim. As he fumbled for his key, a hired hack pulled up in front of his shop. From the reflection of the door's window glass, he watched with consternation as a woman alighted from the conveyance. When the vehicle drove onward, he frowned, for that woman was Cora, wearing a magnificent gown in a raspberry color.

His traitorous heart squeezed, and his pulse accelerated. Bloody, bloody hell. What the devil is she doing here?

"Peregrine."

His shoulders drooped when she came toward him and his shop door. She hadn't worn a spencer, and aside from her plain straw bonnet, there was nothing to protect her from the rain. "What do you want, Cora?" Damn, but his heart hurt. Why the hell was he still alive if the organ in question ached so badly? Though he'd had over a week to square with the fact she had chosen her position over a possible future with him, it still stung. Deep down in his shredded soul, he had steeled himself for never seeing her again, especially after the cut direct she'd given him at that rout.

"I wanted to see you." Her voice sounded from close by, but he still hadn't turned around to face her.

"So you have. Now you can go. I am headed home, regardless." He'd lost and his planned second courtship of this woman hadn't amounted to much. Sometimes, regardless of how a man felt, or how much he'd prepared for, he didn't win the hand of his lady love. That was how fate worked, but the recovery from that failure would prove the real challenge.

Once more he was alone, and it was much like when he'd left her and London for the navy. The only difference between now and then was that this time, he'd foolishly had hope. Though Charles had told him not to give up on her and to try again, he hadn't been able to summon the strength such a feat would entail, for in his mind, he largely suspected she would tell him the same thing. Hope was gone, shattered and broken. Those pieces glittered among the remains of his heart.

"I won't go until you and I talk."

Damn impossible woman. Finally, he turned around and narrowed his eyes. "I have nothing else to say." Point in fact, he was the one who'd been wronged this time, and if she expected him to grovel or go to great lengths to come about, she could think again. "You have obviously made your choice."

"No!" She shook her head, wiped at the raindrops on her cheeks with her gloved fingertips. "It was the wrong one. I should never have picked Mrs. Bromington over you."

"What?" Peregrine couldn't help but gape at her. The rain rapidly dotted that lovely raspberry taffeta, leaving wet patches that soaked through the fabric. The low, rounded neckline showed a fair amount of her décolletage that gleamed with a sheen of rain, but it was her eyes that held him captive—unending despair seemed accumulated in those lake blue depths. "Why are you here?"

"I need to talk to you, Perry," she said and took another step toward him. "I have made a mistake, perhaps the biggest one of my life, and I would like the opportunity to try and rectify that if you will allow me to explain."

Did he even wish to grant her that? It would only prolong the pain, yet part of him was indeed curious. He crossed his arms at his chest. "I won't stop you, and you'd best do it quickly, for the longer we remain out here, the wetter we grow."

"Of course." A few muttered words fell from her lips that sounded suspiciously like, "Why must you prove so annoying and aggravating?" but he couldn't be certain since the tone was almost inaudible in the drum of the rain. "Do you promise to listen to what I have to say without interrupting or interjecting your opinion?"

"Ah, so then I'm not allowed to defend myself if necessary?" Peregrine shook his head as he peered at her. "From what I have managed to discern, this relationship has always been one-sided. It has been me trying to convince you to take a chance." He thrust the pretty picture she made with her cheeks pink from the slight chill and the ever-dampening tendrils of her blonde hair that lay pasted to her forehead and neck beneath the bonnet's brim. What would those raindrops taste like that clung heroically to her lips?

"Please stop. I don't have the strength to argue with you while I gather the remainder of my dignity enough to move through this speech." The entreaty rang with desperation. "Once I'm finished, if you still wish to have nothing else to do with me, I will understand. We can both walk our separate paths and never think of this again."

"I was not the one who drove this wedge between us," he couldn't help but remind her.

"Don't you think I'm not exceedingly aware of that?" The words exploded into the air, propelled by extreme emotion. "It's why I'm here now." She shoved off her bonnet, no doubt the better to see him. Then his breath caught, for she wore the ivory comb that he'd given her. The teeth were buried in her beautiful, damp hair.

Rain continued to fall, and with each new drop, her gown continued to be more saturated and her perfectly upswept hair looked rather worse for wear. She didn't make a move to go into his shop, and he didn't invite her in, for why should he make yet another concession? "I…" The set of her jaw and how she held her head that exposed her throat—showing her vulnerability and trust—as well as the emotions in the depths of her eyes gave him pause. Perhaps she was dead serious and not here to taunt him or tease him with something beyond his grasp. God strike me for a nodcock, but I'm willing to hear her out. He gave a curt nod. "Very well. Say your peace."

"Thank you." Cora stood her ground as if she wasn't sure of her reception. It was good to have her on the offensive, for he wasn't ready to forgive her. Perhaps he never would. A man who'd been cut to the quick didn't forget that hurt, regardless of if he loved her. "I'm at a loss of where to start," she admitted with a shrug that only lifted one shoulder. The dull sound of the wet taffeta was added to the steady tattoo of the rain.

"You were the one who came, so I suggest you puzzle it out. I do have other plans this day." The response came out frostier than he would have liked, but his patience had been stretched already. There was only so much he could bear, and every second in her company was torture.

"I've always appreciated your penchant for not wasting time." With the rain falling around her and the fresh, bright raspberry color of her gown striking against the overcast gray day and the muted splash of carriage wheels against the wet street, he couldn't help but admire the picture. At another time, perhaps, he would have taken her into his arms and stolen a kiss, told her how brave she was after everything.

But that sentiment was long past. She had brought them to this pass.

"I… Dear heavens, I knew exactly what I wished to say on the ride over here, but now it's all flown out of my mind when presented with you in the flesh." The tip of her tongue darted out and whisked away the raindrops that had alighted on her bottom lip.

Peregrine stifled a groan. No longer was she his, for she'd rejected him at every turn, and he had to remember that. "Please arrive at the point. This delay is unnecessary, and we will both be drenched before too much longer." The ache around his heart renewed its torture, reminding him that he still lived and there was no future between them. Surely this was a nightmare he'd awaken from soon.

"Though I realize you have just cause to act ugly, I don't appreciate it while I'm struggling to find my bearings." A hint of tears wavered in her voice, but he steeled himself against it. She met his gaze without flinching. "Earlier today, I bore witness to something so egregious that it rocked my very existence."

"Oh?" Not relaxing his posture, he rested a shoulder against the closed door of his shop. The tiny overhang of the roof provided a modicum of shelter from the rain.

"Yes." Again, she whisked away the moisture from her lips with her tongue. Was she not aware of how erotic that gesture seemed? "I was on my way to ask Mrs. Bromington if she would enjoy luncheon when I paused outside the drawing room. She had a friend who wished to engage a companion." The delicate tendons in her throat worked with a hard swallow. "Mrs. Bromington suggested finding a biddable woman without purpose, generally, and then…"

"Yes?" Despite himself, he was desperate to discover the end of her tale.

Stifling a sob, Cora continued. "And then the widow revealed that she wasn't truly paralyzed. She stood up from her Bath chair, admitted to her friend it had all been a fiction in an effort to make me stay with her."

"What?" Shock moved through him so hard that he sagged against the shop door. "Then I was correct this whole time?"

"Yes." A sob escaped her, but she didn't bother to brush away the tears and they blended with the rain on her cheeks. "As I peeked into the room, I witnessed her stand and walk about the room as if there was nothing wrong with her at all. Additionally, she admitted to her friend that she'd done it to ensure my obedience and continued companionship."

When her damned chin trembled, the gesture tugged at his heart. He relaxed his arms, took a step toward her. "There is nothing wrong with her legs." It wasn't a question.

"No."

"Yet you tossed me to the curb as if I didn't matter, as if the history between us didn't mean anything." Not ready to forgive her just yet, he frowned.

"I won't deny what I said or what I did, for at the time, I thought it was the best decision. I thought she needed that assistance." A blush developed on her cheeks. "I have made mistakes, Perry, but none have been so great as choosing a liar and a generally foul person over what you and I could have had together."

"It certainly didn't sound like you regretted it that day. Those words still ring in my mind, and you have only just discovered that choice was the wrong one." Perhaps that was what truly stuck in his craw like a twisted dagger. She'd been perfectly fine living with her choice… until today while he'd agonized about it for over a week.

"Don't assume that I didn't berate myself every night since that afternoon!" Annoyance flashed in her eyes. "I hated what I'd done. I mourned for what I gave up for that woman."

"Perhaps." He refused to give quarter. No longer would he plead for her affections. If she continued to play him like a bowstring, never quite agreeing to a courtship that would end with a proposal, he wanted nothing more to do with her. His ego wouldn't allow such fickleness, and quite frankly, he was tired. She hadn't forgiven his mistake for over three years; he was owed a bit of that victory. "Why should I believe you? I have done my best to pour everything that I am into this relationship, but you haven't been entirely present, have always teetered, measuring me against your family or the widow." A muscle ticced in his cheek. "If I take you at your word, the moment I might resume what we had, you'll find another way to stab holes in my heart." At the very basis of everything, she needed to understand that he wouldn't put himself back up on the gallows for her to walk away as he swung.

"I've acted horribly. There is no denying that." For the space of a heartbeat, she silently cried while the rain came down. "And I understand how you feel. I should never have done that to you. No matter how many directions in which I've been pulled, you didn't deserve such poor treatment."

At least there was that. "Thank you. Though, to be fair, it was exactly what I'd done to you when I broke our engagement." He clenched his teeth then told himself to relax. "Good thing we hadn't made it to that point this time. Clean break and all that."

A shuddering sigh escaped her. She sniffed, for her nose was a bit snotty. Finally, she raised her gaze to his. "It's time to be honest. I have hidden from certain things for far too long." Tears pooled in her eyes as her gown was completely soaked through and her blonde hair lay more or less plastered to her head. "Please forgive me for the words I said to you out of anger, out of fear. I am solely responsible for the duties I placed upon my shoulders. In the past week, it has been glaringly apparent that what I've lost is more valuable than what I have convinced myself I should be doing."

It wasn't exactly an apology, but it went a long way in straightening out his jumbled guts. "Meaning?" This time, there could be no misunderstandings, nothing used to hide behind or to replace real feelings.

She pressed her lips into a thin line before yet another sob wrenched from her. "I fell in love with you over three years ago, and when you asked for my hand, I was thrilled. You were dashing and charming, everything a navy man should be." When he raised an eyebrow, she rushed onward. "But when you broke our engagement, all of that crumbled into dust." As he opened his mouth to protest, she held up a hand that dripped with water. "I realized that what I felt for you wasn't love at all, but perhaps infatuation, for love would not have vanished at the first obstacle."

Fair enough."I can understand that, but though I did love you—have always loved you—perhaps my heart wasn't as entrenched as it should have been, for I wouldn't have left in the first place had I been besotted." Still, Peregrine steeled his heart, for he had been disappointed before.

"We have both been foolish to let things in life that have no real roots tear us apart, make us forget that what we had could have gained the potential for a strong foundation." She wiped at the moisture on her forehead. Not that it made a difference. "Perhaps you would do better to pursue Miss Beaufort. I saw her with you at that rout, and you are quite a handsome pair." A tear fell to her cheek.

"Let us say her affections are very much on someone else who is not me." He ignored her distress; he had to for his own peace of mind. "Your point, Cora? I wish to move out of the rain." It wasn't well done of him to keep her in the weather, but he needed to know the depths of her commitment.

"When my little hope was taken from me, that loss hurt more than anything else, for it was the final piece of you gone. And there was no one except my twin who knew, so I couldn't even remember that hope aloud for fear of the scandal that would embarrass my parents." A cry of either frustration or despair left her, and the sound slashed through his heart. "It wasn't until you arrived, and you accidentally misidentified me at that rout I knew my path wasn't done crossing with yours."

"And?" Despite himself and the hurt she'd caused, he wanted this bit finished. She was adorable in her agony. Heat built inside him; he no longer noticed the rain.

"As I said the other day in that library, you have left an impression on my heart, a fire in my blood, an itch beneath my skin, and the longer you kept coming, kept chasing, kept asking me, letting me make my own mistakes and discovering who I was, that impression only deepened." With a cry, Cora offered a hand to him, but he resisted taking it, for once he did, he'd be lost, and nothing had been resolved. "Perry, please. Grant me pardon. Say something so I'll know you don't hate me."

"No, I don't hate you. How could I? But I do remain wary." He cocked his head while a grin of amusement flirted with his lips. If he'd had to grovel for her, she could return the favor a bit. "The solution to this convoluted speech is quite simple."

"Perhaps you're right. Again. Damn you." The ghost of a grin met her lips as her hand fell heavily to her side. "It's time to lay bare my soul." For long moments she gazed at him while her chin trembled, and her lips shook. "I realized too late that what I truly want from life and in my life is you. If we forgive all the wrongs, excuse the less than favorable words, if we toss out all the secrets we've kept from each other, what's left is love." Twin tears slipped down her cheeks. "That is all that matters, don't you think?" The delicate tendons in her throat worked with a swallow. "To the depths of my soul, until the end of time, I love you, Peregrine Wetherford. You were the first man to have my heart, and I want you to be the only man to hold it now."

Oh, God.The honesty in her entreaty compromised his ability to remain indifferent, but he couldn't quite forgive her just yet. While uncommon happiness bubbled in his chest, he kept his expression hooded. "What of Mrs. Bromington? What of your intent to help your family?"

"I have made the decision to give notice to the widow. No longer can I remain as her companion in good conscience knowing she is only using me for her own ends, but I wanted to fix things between you and me first." Her chest heaved with the force of her emotion, which sent his notice dropping to her bosom. "As for my family, perhaps a new idea will come to them as a collective, for I realize now I shouldn't sacrifice my future for something I had no hand in making. Above all, I won't forget their plight and will help if I can."

While he was satisfied with those answers, there was still one thing he wanted desperately to hear. "I seem to recall that you promised me an answer by June fifteenth." God, he was a bastard for acting as if he were a player upon a Drury Lane stage, but he owed it to himself—and her—to make this ending, or rather their new beginning, as emotional as their history.

A smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "I still have five days."

"Ah. Well, you know my address. Please write to me there when you are certain." Then he maneuvered around her, as if he would start the walk through Mayfair toward a hack stand.

"Wait!" She moved into his path, blocking his forward momentum.

Her cry paused his steps. "Was there something else you wished to say?"

"Yes," she said on a gasp. "Dear God, yes I must lest I break apart from it." The darling woman dropped to her knees despite the rain and the mud that would ruin the remainder of her skirting. "I'm so ashamed for how I've acted, not only when you returned to London but in listening to Mrs. Bromington over your logic. Forgive me."

"Of course I do, for we both need it, but does the apology come too late?" It was rather pleasant, this being courted, and he couldn't wait to hear what she would say next. Afterward, he would kiss her senseless, reassure her that everything they'd gone through would make them stronger.

"We've both made mistakes." Desolation reflected in her eyes and tone.

"We have." It was becoming more difficult to keep his humor of the situation hidden.

"No doubt we'll continue to make them." Though she wiped at the moisture on her face, with the continuing rain, it was a useless endeavor. "At least I will."

"That is what life is all about. Without mistakes, we would never learn or grow." When she still looked glum, he continued. "Sweeting, life is raw and messy and emotional. It has joyous moments and horrid ones. It will send you flying and lay you low. If you're not taking such risks, you're doing it wrong, and you will eventually end up as bitter as Mrs. Bromington."

"You've helped me to see that." Cora nodded. "I want a flawed man with annoying habits who I can hold, and kiss, and argue with."

"Ah, well there is no denying I'm quite flawed, and quite objectionable with my scars."

"You are everything handsome and lovely. I wouldn't have you any other way." She sniffed. "A man who will forgive me as I forgive him, and knowing we have more in common than we do not, and that our history will remind us to go gently with grace."

"The world is full of men like that," he said with twitching lips that desperately wanted to burgeon into a grin of pure happiness. "You should start your search with alacrity, for you are nearly a spinster, darling."

"Damn you, Peregrine." She scrubbed at the tears on her cheeks. "Don't be an arse. I am already beset with nerves."

"I can't help it, for the moment deserves some lightness." He couldn't hold back the grin he finally gave into. "What is it you truly wish to say to me? It is rather chilly and quite wet out here, and frankly, I'd like to go inside and see about relieving you of that sopping gown."

"Oh?" Hope sprang into her eyes. "I suppose this is the truth of it, and what I've only ever wanted." She dug into her reticule and pulled out the ivory ring he'd given to her years ago, held it up between her thumb and forefinger. "Captain Wetherford—Perry—will you marry me? No matter what we face, will you stand with me for the rest of our lives?"

Slow seconds went by, marked by the rapid beat of his heart. Perhaps he was a fool, but he believed her, and in that, he knew everything would work itself out. "Ah, Cora. You gorgeous, endearing thing." He put a hand beneath her chin and gently raised her head until their gazes connected. "Yes, I'll marry you, and why shouldn't I?" The pieces of his heart picked themselves off the ground and flew into place, held together by a love that had endured and strengthened and changed over the years. "I love you to distraction, always have, but I needed to be sure of your feelings for me. After everything."

"Understandable." Wonder reflected in her eyes as she stared at him. "You will marry me?" Astonishment lingered in her whispered inquiry.

"As soon as I can procure a license, and if I can't, we will have the banns read, either here or in the parish where your parents reside. It matters not to me." He grasped her hand and easily tugged her into a standing position. Then he took the ring from her, yanked the wet glove from her left hand, and carefully slipped it upon the fourth finger there. "I love you, Cora. Please don't ever doubt that."

"I don't. Not anymore." She wiped at more tears. "I should never have discounted it to begin with, for you have been nothing but truthful and supportive this whole time, where I've been naught but a silly widgeon."

"Not silly, but perhaps worried and lost. Everything will come out right. You'll see." Then he claimed her lips in a kiss he hoped seared his commitment to her into her brain and told her in no uncertain terms how much he adored her. When he pulled away, his breathing was as labored as hers. "Come. Into the shop with me. Let us get you warm."

She uttered a soft protest. "I am not done kissing you, though."

"I never said we were finished with that, love. And there will be much, much more between us than kissing this afternoon." With anticipation buzzing at his spine and his heart overflowing with victory from finally winning her as well as the love he held back out of fear from rejection, Peregrine led his soon-to-be wife into his shop and firmly closed the door behind them.

He didn't know what the future held, but he couldn't wait to meet every damned step of it. With her.