Secrets of the Heart by Candace Camp Page A

back on his word.”
    â€œYou had better hope so.” Her mother looked her over critically, shaking Rachel’s skirt out on one side and picking a small piece of lint from the shoulder of her dress. “In any case, I trust you will be appropriately apologetic.”
    â€œI will.” The weight of her guilt was still like a physical burden upon her shoulders.
    Rachel went down the stairs and along the spacious hallway to Westhampton’s study. The door stood open, and Lord Westhampton was inside, his back to her. Rachel paused for a moment, steeling herself, then stepped inside.
    He turned at the sound of her approach, and their eyes met, then dropped quickly away. “Miss Aincourt. Thank you for joining me.”
    He gestured toward one of the chairs, and as Rachel walked toward it, he closed the door and came back to where she sat and took a seat across from her.
    â€œI, ah, I wish you had told me, Miss Aincourt.”
    â€œI’m sorry.” Rachel’s eyes flew to his, and her hands curled into themselves in her lap. “I did not mean for that to happen. When I accepted you, I intended to marry you. I was not—” She paused, the breath suddenly running out of her so that she had to make an inelegant little gulp. “I was not even going to see him again.”
    â€œStill, it would have been…easier if I had known.”
    â€œI know,” Rachel agreed miserably. “I am sorry.”
    â€œIt—well, it hasn’t turned out well. Not as I had hoped. Or you, I’m sure.”
    â€œNo.” Her voice was barely a whisper.
    â€œMiss Aincourt…I want you to know…” Michael paused, then abruptly rose to his feet and began to pace. “I am making a hash of this. What I want to know is, is your father compelling you to say yes to me? I have no desire to force you to marry me. Or for you to feel obliged to do so. We can make an announcement—you may cry off, if you wish.”
    Rachel looked up at him, tears swimming in her eyes. He was offering her a way out, not a perfect one, but a far better one than her elopement. If she cried off, everyone would assume that he had done something to cause her to; he was offering to bear the blame for her.
    â€œNo,” she responded in a choked voice. “I do not want to break it off. Father was right. Even An—Mr. Birkshaw admitted it. He needs to marry well. I know there is no—Anyway, I am a more responsible person, I hope, than I have appeared to be so far. I know that I have given you little reason to trust me, but I promise you that I will never do anything like that again.” She paused, then added uncertainly, “Unless, that is, you have changed your mind and would prefer to break it off?”
    â€œI have not changed my mind.” Michael glanced at her, then away. It occurred to Rachel that he could not bear to look at her for longer than a few seconds, and the knowledge made her heart swell even more with guilt and sorrow.
    â€œMarrying would be the best thing for us to do,” Westhampton went on, his voice distant and calm. “I know that it is hard for you. It—is not easy for me, either. But it will prevent any gossip, and you have said that you cannot marry, um, as you wish.”
    Rachel nodded, clasping her hands in her lap and gazing steadfastly down at them. “Yes. It would be best.”
    â€œKnowing how you feel…that is, given the situation…naturally I would not expect, a, um…It would not be a true marriage, of course. I would not press you. We would not share a bedroom.”
    Startled, Rachel glanced up at him. Was he saying that those things her mother had talked about would not happen? Surprise shot through her, followed by relief. Then she realized, with another pang of guilt and even hurt, that Westhampton was saying this because he no longer wanted her. She had killed his love by her disgraceful actions. She wondered if