Except what good was a confession? If she was pregnant, she still needed to keep the baby secret so Ashcroft didn’t interfere when she married Burnley.
She steeled herself to do what was best for Ashcroft. Her voice was surprisingly firm. “The only thing I’m telling you is good-bye.” Then the ultimate heresy. “Our affair was enjoyable while it lasted, but with my father’s arrival and your unwillingness to follow my rules, it’s become complicated.”
She expected him to storm off in disgust, but he studied her carefully, thoroughly. Under that speculative regard, she shifted in discomfort.
He spoke as though tracking her was perfectly reasonable. “I knew you hid something. I had to find out.”
“Now you’ve found out,” she snapped back. Although they were both aware that wasn’t true. “You must know when you went against my express wishes, I’d finish the affair. It’s run its course.”
“You don’t believe that.” He sounded as if what she said was unimportant, mildly amusing.
Her smile felt like a rictus grin. “I’ve dabbled in decadence, Ashcroft. I’ve satisfied any curiosity. I’m ready to resume my real life. And I’m sure you’re eager for your next conquest. After all, you must grow bored with your country widow and pine for something more exotic.”
A crease appeared between his dark brows as if he considered what she said and still couldn’t make sense of it. “You harp upon my reputation. Yet I’m not the one leaving, you are.”
She hated that he was perceptive enough to see her defensive maneuver for exactly what it was. She tugged again, and this time, he let her go. It seemed tragically symbolic of their looming parting.
“Our arrangement was only for a week or two.” With every second, she found it harder to keep her voice even.
“Fuck our arrangement,” he said on a sudden explosion of temper.
She flinched at his language. “I don’t owe you anything,” she said shakily, as her stomach lurched with excruciating misery at how unjust she was.
She braced against her screeching conscience. She took another step up, although she couldn’t summon will to run upstairs and leave him for the last time.
Poor weak Diana. Poor lovesick Diana.
His regard remained unwavering, and he didn’t move. His upturned face was tight with emotion, and she couldn’t mistake the longing in his dark green eyes. How could she? It mirrored the longing in her breaking heart. She swallowed, trying to convince herself it was best if she left now.
“Kiss me,” he said hoarsely, stretching a hand out in a pleading gesture. “Forget all this nonsense and kiss me. Then come home. I don’t understand what you’re doing, I don’t understand why you’re here or what bloody Burnley has to do with anything, but you must know it doesn’t matter compared to what we share.”
“Lord Ashcroft…”
“You call me Tarquin when you lie in my arms.”
Oh, what sweet memories his words evoked. But she must stay strong. Not just because she was a coward but for his sake. For the sake of the child she prayed she carried.
“It doesn’t mean anything.” The words emerged as a whisper.
“Like hell it doesn’t.”
Before she could protest, he rounded the newel post in a single stride and mounted the first step. He filled her vision, made every sense leap to life. He was so tall, their eyes were level even though she hovered two steps above him.
The unconcealed yearning in his face held her motionless. She spoke on a burst of anguish. “Why are you doing this? I told you it’s over. That should be enough. Go.”
His jaw set in adamantine lines, and his eyes sparked. “No.”
He snatched for her arm, but she jerked out of reach, losing her balance. Before he caught her, she grabbed the banister. If he touched her, she’d shatter. As it was, her control was brittle as Venetian glass. “Shall I tell the footmen to throw you out?”
He laughed dismissively. “London doesn’t contain footmen big enough to expel me from this house.”
He was right. James would last about twenty seconds against Ashcroft if it came to a contest of strength. Not just strength. Determination vibrated from Ashcroft’s impressive form.
Anyway, she didn’t want to throw him out. She didn’t want these glorious days to finish in vitriol and pain.
What she wanted didn’t count.
Her voice throbbed with sincerity and sadness. “Ashcroft, this achieves nothing. Let’s not part in rancor. You have more experience of ending affairs than I…”