Beatrice threw a quick glance at him and did not answer, instead taking another bite of the asparagus.
“I worded your options wrong in the beginning of all this,” Algernon went on.
He hadn’t. At that time, he had fully meant that he would give Beatrice her freedomifHenry did not want to marry her. Now, though, he understood what little choice he’d given to her, and he wanted to make it right.
“Henry may have chosen you,” he went on when Beatrice still did not say anything, “but you must also choose Henry. If you truly do not wish to marry him, just say so. I will grant you the money and the house I spoke of.”
Beatrice let out a bitter laugh as she picked up his wine glass and took a long sip.
Algernon hated seeing her do so. One stem of asparagus did not a meal make, but he kept his temper—and words—in check this time.
“Those are my only choices though, yes?” she asked, not looking at him. “Either marry your brother or become a spinster?”
“You seemed fond of both possibilities at the beginning of this,” he replied.
“Yes, well, that was before I realized I wanted something else,” she murmured, bringing her glass back to her lips for another long sip of wine.
“And what is it that you want?” he asked quietly.
Beatrice took her time with her wine. She held up her glass, swirled it as she swallowed. Then she took another drink, this time draining the glass. She sat it down with a thud, and her cobalt eyes, blurry and full of pain, turned to him.
“I want to know your truth,” she said calmly.
Algernon slowly closed his eyes and shook his head, his heart heavy.
“I already told you my truth,” he rasped.
“Then,why?”she asked, her voice breaking. “Why are these my only two options. If you feel for me what I feel for you, why is that not a choice?”
“Because my brother needs someone like you,” Algernon replied defeatedly, his throat aching from the scream building up inside him. “Someone who will love him for who he is and make him want to be better. More responsible. I can already hear it in his voice, see it in his eyes. You have made him understand something in only a few weeks, something I have been trying to make him understand for the better part of a year. You can protect him.”
Beatrice’s eyes shone with unshed tears as she stared at him.
“And you do not need me, correct?” she asked then drew in a sharp breath.
I need you more than I have ever needed anyone else.
Algernon cleared his throat and shifted in his chair, trying to drive the overwhelming thought away.
“Correct.” He meant to say the word clearly, but all he could manage was a harsh whisper.
Then he cleared his throat again as he rubbed at his aching jaw. He’d kept it clenched so much as of late, trying to keep the things he wanted to say from escaping.
“I do not need you,” he confirmed, finally able to use his voice again.
Beatrice sniffled, and though it hurt him to see her fall apart, he did not look away. He forced himself to keep looking, to keep bearing witness to the pain he had caused.
“You are a coward,” Beatrice said softly, matter-of-factly, as she stood up.
“I know,” he whispered, but he knew by the way she looked away from him and dabbed her eyes that she did not hear him.
“I do not want your money,” she said after taking another moment to compose herself. “I will marry your brother. But not because you command me to do it or for some plan. I will do it because I have grown to care for him as a great friend, and like you, I want to protect him.”
Algernon bit his lower lip hard as he struggled to keep his emotions inside.
“I am relieved to hear it,” he forced out.
“However, I cannot continue staying here until that happens. I will seek arrangements elsewhere until Henry and I are wed. I understand that as his brother, you will be at the ceremony, but I am warning you now. Do not touch me that day. Do not even speak to me. Then I never want to see you again.”