“Right?” she gasped. “You were ready to marry me!”
He nodded. “I thought I was. You were clearheaded and bold. Capable and…” He released a soft sigh. “So beautiful. I believed I could love you.”
She could tell by his tone that his feelings had passed. “What happened?” she asked.
He looked up at the ceiling. “I remembered that love is not enough.”
She swallowed, her entire body going cold, especially when his gaze returned to her and he repeated those words.
“Love is not enough.”
“Enough for what?” she pressed. “Happiness?”
He frowned, then elbowed his way into a sitting position leaning back against the wall. His body looked large against the wall, but also defeated as his shoulders slumped and his expression grew sad. “My parents loved each other. Theirs was a love match, and I wanted that for myself. But once I got home, I remembered all the things I’d forgotten since moving to London.”
She winced. She’d heard plenty of tales from Clara about their parents’ rocky marriage. Lilah guessed it was the main reason that Clara refused to entertain the idea of a husband for herself. Apparently, both siblings felt the same.
“You are not doomed to repeat your parents’ problems.”
He looked at her. “Their marriage was a mésalliance. My mother was a clergyman’s daughter. Perfectly respectable, you see, but hopelessly countrified. My father loved her, and so he married her.”
“Exactly as it ought to be,” she said.
He shook his head. “Politics was his real love. He should never have married at all or married a woman who knew how to support his ambitions. She crippled him politically, and he resented her for it.” He blew out a breath. “Until the day he died, he blamed her even though he loved her.”
What was she to say to that? That his father’s love was weak? That blaming another for his own failure was wrong. But she knew that wasn’t true. She more than anyone knew that society threw up walls that no one could break. “So he was unhappy?”
Aaron lifted a hand in a gesture of futility. “He felt a failure.”
“He raised two children, cared for his lands, fought for what he felt was right.”
“He felt like he failed.” His gaze turned piercing. “Just as you feel like you failed tonight.”
“I did fail!”
“And yet you are loved by your family, you will manage Lady Byrn’s household, you will live a full life.”
She swallowed, seeing his point, but she didn’t want to acknowledge it. She didn’t want to feel like she’d nearly attained something wonderful—marriage to him—only to have circumstances rip it away. Just like tonight when she’d almost won her registry office. And while she was still rejecting every one of the feelings churning inside her, he showed her that he felt the failure just as keenly.
“I’ve thought about marrying you, Lilah. Ever since I got back to London, I’ve thought about the possibility, and so I tried to learn what the women do.” He looked at her. “Do you know these women?” He rattled off several names. “Do you have a friendship with them?”
Friendship? One had spit in her tea. Literally. The others had never deigned to look at her, much less claim an acquaintance. “No. They won’t… They don’t…” She didn’t have the words to express how very solid the societal wall was against her. Those women would not accept her into their ranks. Ever.
“They are the political women, Lilah. The ones behind the scenes who will marshal their husbands for or against my work.”
She snorted. “You give them too much credit. Surely the men have minds of their own. Surely you can convince them on the merits of your arguments. It has nothing to do with their wives.”
He shook his head. “You know that’s not true. You know the women have extraordinary influence. Only a fool would deny it.”
And he was no fool. Thankfully, a knock at the door spared her from giving an answer. She rolled off the bed, though she was still unsteady. Opening it allowed a servant to bring in a tray with cheeses and bread. Another followed behind him with a bottle of wine and two glasses. The wine was set on the table. The tray was plopped on the bed. She watched as Aaron slipped them each a coin, and then both bowed themselves out.
“Come eat something,” he urged as he waved her back to bed. And when she shook her head, he shifted to sit completely upright. “Do you think I want to break your heart?” he asked. Then he looked at her. “Do you think I want to break mine?”
“Do you love me?” she asked. The words slipped out.
He shook his head. “Not yet.”
She turned away.