Page 90 of A Foolish Flirtation

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Jeremy welcomed the early morning light as it came streaking through the cracks in his curtains. He had barely slept, and when he had, his dreams had been fragmented and disturbing, affording him glimpses of a past which had always been a source of shame for him but now… God. They haunted him.

He had always known he had behaved badly but…Christ almighty. He had not had the faintest idea. Not the smallest notion of how devastated Emmeline had been left in the wake of his disgraceful behavior. Somehow, all these years, he had twisted everything to believe himself the injured party.

Selfishly, he had thought only of his own pain, being forced to marry Amanda. When he did allow himself to think fleetingly of her, he had imagined pretty Ballentine married to some far nicer and worthier man than he. A thought that had twisted his guts and made his gorge rise.

He had always been wildly jealous of that man. A man who would pamper her and give her a multitude of children, and the life that she deserved, while he, Jeremy, was stuck in a loveless marriage feeling sorry for himself. Was it any wonder he had never looked into what had become of Emmeline Ballentine?

Without thinking, he tightened his arms about her. She murmured something in her sleep, and he forced himself to slacken his hold. And all the while, that man had never existed. Instead, by some cruel twist of fate, her father had introduced her to an even worse suitor than himself.

Jeremy’s shoddy treatment had left her prey to that unprincipled swine who had then ruined her father’s business, destroyed her good faith, and wasted ten years of her life while he kept his wife and child on the sidelines. Jeremy wanted to kill him.

Worst of all, he knew he had treated her just as poorly. His reckless, indulgent conduct had broken her heart, as well as his own. He had always known he was unworthy of that starry gaze she used to bestow on him. He’d been so greedy for it though.

He’d always fooled himself that, once out of her sight, the scales would fall from Emmeline’s eyes and she would realize what a tawdry, worthless piece of shit he really was. The most he had ever hoped for was that on a cold night, she might secretly compare her dull, worthy husband’s kisses to his, and he might not come off the worst for it.

Now he knew why there was no fond reminiscing on her behalf. There was no mistaking the damage he had wrought upon her. Not after the storm of weeping she had endured the previous night. He had ruined everything between them. There could be no doubt why even her memories were destroyed.

No wonder she hated when he brought up their mutual history. It had been like sticking a knife into her every time. And he had done it so fucking thoughtlessly too. Repeatedly. He hated himself. Hated himself. He could barely stand to be inside his own skin this morning. What the fuck had he done?

She had not even come into his room to get those fucking letters, he realized now, too late. She had come to seek him out. The first time she had ever ventured his side of the door, and how had he reacted? By being a nasty, jealous prick, that was how.

He had seen fit to judge her feelings for her father, and had jibed at her, despite hearing at least a couple of things previously that had made him suspect her father was a nasty bastard too. Remembering how pretty and nervous she had looked in her new nightgown, her toes peeping out beneath the hem, he felt a fresh wave of scalding shame wash over him.

Well, she would never trust him like that again. She had locked the connecting door, and if there was any justice in this world, it would remain locked against him forevermore. He, Jeremy, had hugely fucked things up and not for the first time. Not by a long shot. He could almost cry, he realized, dragging a forearm over his tired eyes.

Great. Now he was sniveling, like the craven worm he was. How could he have spoken to her like that, and ruined everything with a few careless, unguarded words? So fucking stupid, he would never forgive himself. Everything had been perfect all day, and then like a fucking idiot, he had wantonly destroyed the progress he had made with her.

She had warned him, and he had not listened. He had not left the past alone and now he must face the consequences, he thought bleakly. As soon as he judged the hour advanced enough, he carefully set about disentangling himself from her.

He managed to get out of the bed by very careful maneuvering but no matter how carefully he moved about the room, her sleep was broken, and Emmeline awoke, lifting her head to regard him blearily.

“There’s no need for you to rise this early just because I am,” he reassured her, but she was having none of it, already sitting up and rubbing her red-looking eyes.

“I don’t want to scare your valet,” she said, reaching for her dressing robe.

“Simons would survive the shock,” he replied but she was already out of bed. “Promise me you won’t do too much this morning.” The strength of her passionate weeping the night before had almost scared him. Even though she had let him console her and hold her in his arms, he had been horribly conscious of his uselessness.

Suddenly, Emmeline lifted up the covers, looking from the mattress to him in consternation, her color draining away.

“What is it?” he asked quickly.

She covered her eyes with her hand. “I’m so sorry,” she said stiltedly. “To cap it all, it seems my monthly has arrived.”

“Monthly?” he repeated foolishly before comprehension dawned. “Oh…”

“Let me just… I’ll strip the bed,” she said quickly. “Don’t come any closer!” The last words sounded panicked.

“Emmeline,” he said gently. “All is well…”

She started to turn, then swung back around awkwardly. “Can you turn your back to me, please?” she asked with fragile dignity.

Jeremy hesitated, unsure what to do for the best. “Can’t I help?” he asked. “I’m not afraid of a little blood.”

“No!” Her answer was immediate and explosive. “I—I don’t want you to.” She stared down at her feet, her expression mortified. “Please?” she added in a desperate whisper.

Jeremy turned around, showing her his back. Immediately he heard her scrabbling about with the sheets. His chest hurt that she could not even trust him with this.