Meg fell backward onto her bed and stared unseeingly at the ceiling.
She, who had sworn never to want the same man twice, wanted Lucien forever and ever.
He, who had sworn never to settle for less than fellow French nobility, had proposed to her. And meant it.
Aargh, how she had longed to say yes! To believe she could say yes would turn her entire world upside down. Life had shown her, again and again, that nothing good ever lasted, and the same was true now. Yes, he’d walked away because she had said no. But if she hadn’t… Lucien would have run away.
She wasn’t just some unimportant English farm girl. She was the granddaughter of unimportant French farmers. Lucien’s parents might have hoped the rebellion would die down, but Meg’s parents had actively fought in the revolution. They were the exact sort of people whom Lucien rightfully blamed for murdering his parents. She could not hide a secret that big. Not from someone who trusted her enough to want to marry her. And the moment Lucien found out the truth…
He’d be gone.
Which left what? She gathered clumps of blanket in her fists and sucked in a shaky breath. Houville, that was what. Moving to a slightly larger village full of complete strangers and cheap rooms to let, because that was all she could afford to do.
Living alone, as appeared to be her destiny. Too far to walk to see her cousin. Too far to even see the castle. A thousand miles away from France and Lucien.
Meg rubbed her face with her hands and turned onto her side. The pillow smelled of Lucien. She hugged it to her chest and refused to cry, no matter how sharp her eyes might sting. She would not let her tears wash away any trace of him.
She did want him. More than anything. He was smart and sweet, family-oriented and loyal, and best of all… he wanted her.
She’d always thought that taking a husband meant losing her freedom, losing autonomy, losing any semblance of control over her own life. But now that she’d turned down Lucien’s offer, it was saying no that had sent her on a spiral of loneliness. She didn’t feel stronger without him. She felt empty.
So what was she going to do about it?
Meg pushed herself upright and stared at her simple muslin gown laying crumpled on the floor.
Even if she were an aristocrat too, she would still be scared to give up everything she knew and the roots she’d desperately been trying to put down, just to gamble on an unknown. Saying yes to Lucien meant saying yes to leaving Cressmouth, to leaving her cousin, to leaving England. It meant saying yes to a different country and a different world than the one she was used to.
But her biggest fear, her secret fear, wasn’t having to begin again with strangers somewhere new. She was terrified of starting a new chapter with someone she knew, someone she hoped to keep, creating a home together in which she hoped to stay. Leaving of her own free will was so much more palatable than being rejected.
It was also more cowardly.
Hadn’t she accused Lucien of running away from Cressmouth rather than giving it a chance? What was she doing, if not the very same thing?
With trembling hands, Meg snatched up her gown from the floor and pulled it on.
She was scared, but she wasn’t a coward. She hadn’t thought she’d live through those years in the attic, but she’d done it. She hadn’t thought she’d ever find a way out of France and back to England, but she’d done it. She hadn’t thought it would be possible to make a home in an idyllic village of perpetual Yuletide, but she’d done it. She hadn’t thought her barricaded heart would ever fall in love, but she’d done it.
Meg had always had to come up with new plans whenever the old plan stopped working. Her fear of change might be natural, but she couldn’t let it hold her back. If ever there was a man who kept his word and was the very definition of loyal, that man was Lucien le Duc. If he promised “forever,” he meant bloody forever. The rest of the world could change anything it wished, but Lucien’s heart always stayed true.
But before she could let him agree to anything… she had to tell him the full truth.