Chapter Thirteen

 

I could find no words to convey the tangled feelings and thoughts inside of me. I couldn’t even look at him right then.

He had been right. It was a truth I didn’t want to know now that I knew it. It did make me despise him. And I despised him all the more because he had hidden it for so long, trapping me with my own ignorance. But at the same time, I felt relief so palpable and distinct, it was almost painful. He hadn’t murdered Violet. He wasn’t going to murder me.

My life was safe with him.

But I was also more than animated flesh—I was a soul, a mind, a creature of love and feeling. Would all that be safe with Julian Markham?

Only one thing was clear to me in that moment: I had to go. I had to leave Markham Hall, perhaps for good. Because I could not tie my life to its owner until I processed through these razored doubts and reliefs. And I could not do that here, with him. Because even now, despite everything, I loved him and wanted him. I couldn’t trust myself to make the right decision while intoxicated with his presence.

He came towards me, kneeling on the rug in front of the chair I sat in. He rested his head against my knee—much like he had done in York—and I allowed him, curling my fingers into tight balls so they wouldn’t be tempted to twine through his thick hair.

“Let me make it up to you,” he whispered, closing his eyes. “I’ll do anything you want, be anything you want. But stay. Be my wife.”

I was crying again. And I couldn’t answer—how could I tell him that I needed to leave when I could barely stand the pain splintering across his face now? One word from him, one kiss from him, and I would fold at his feet.

His student. His wildcat. His future wife.

I said nothing as he lifted my skirts and began to lick and kiss his way up my legs to my cunt. I said nothing as he buried his face between my legs, as his own tears mingled with my arousal, and I said nothing after I came hard on his lips.

Nothing as he freed his cock and pushed inside of me, his fingers gripping me impossibly tight, as if he were afraid I’d slip away at any moment. Nothing as we rocked back and forth, as we came together in a wave of heat and shuddering.

I said nothing because I was as desperate for this as he was, this one final connection before I would go away, find my way to my aunt Esther and sort out exactly what Mr. Markham’s confession meant to me. What it meant for us.

After we finished, and he gathered me into his arms, I finally spoke. “I’m leaving,” I said.

“Ivy,” he said fiercely, raggedly. In that one word, I heard everything.

I looked up at him. “I love you so much.”

He breathed, relief relaxing the lines around his eyes and mouth.

“But,” I continued, “I need time. I need to see my family. I need to think about the lies you’ve told me.”

He said nothing, but he buried his face in my hair and I knew he was crying.

“I’m leaving my ring on,” I whispered. “But I’m saying goodbye. For now, at least.”

“Can I follow you?” he asked. “Can I find you and make you mine again?”

I wanted him to. The thought of doing anything without him, being anywhere without him, made me acutely miserable. But I knew it was necessary. For both of us.

I extricated myself from his arms, hating the way I already felt cold and lonely, but still forcing myself to walk away. “I’m not using our signal, Julian. I just want some time to think. And I can’t think properly around you. You…you consume me when we’re together.”

“So is that a yes, wildcat?”

I was at the door now, my hand on the knob, my mind beginning to race with how quickly I needed to pack and how I would need to find a way to Stokeleigh and how I would get word to Solicitor Wright to help arrange for my trip to London. But I turned to look back at him, my Julian, his tie unknotted, his hair unkempt, his suit rumpled from our desperate lovemaking. His green eyes, more haunted than I’d ever seen them. His soft mouth, which still made my pulse quicken. This wicked man who had brought pain to so many but had also brought me to immeasurable ecstasy and happiness.

“Yes,” I said quietly. “Yes, you can follow me.”

He came forward, bracing his hands on either side of the door and leaning in to me. His face was inches from mine. “Then I will, wildcat. I swear.”

And it was with complete honesty that I answered, “I hope you do.”

He leaned in to brush his lips against mine, but I ducked away, opening the door and walking down the hallway, determined to keep my back straight and my tears at bay as I walked away from the only man I would ever love.