The Musician (Emerson Pass Historicals 5) - Page 48

She trailed her fingers down the lapel of my coat before pulling away and stepping backward. “They need me, rather.” Her voice wobbled. “Just me.”

“I’m sorry,” I said softly. I’d hurt her, and for what reason? I was here in Paris. When she’d needed me to come, I had. We were an us, whether I could admit to it or not.

She lifted her gaze. The pain in her eyes made me wince. “For what? What are you sorry for exactly? Not loving me? It’s not your fault.”

I hesitated before answering, knowing that I could hurt her further if I wasn’t careful. “My feelings for you are irrelevant to this situation.”

“Are they? Doesn’t it all come back to a woman needing a man to solve any problems she might have? Bringing them home without a husband is something most women could not do. But I’m different. I have money of my own, thanks to my trust. I’ll do with it what I choose. Your approval, while I’d love to have it, is not necessary.”

“I’m quite aware of that.” I bristled at the truth of what she said. She didn’t need me. She never had and never would. I was the one who had benefited from her father’s benevolence. I was the grandson of a servant. “We are not equals, Fiona, and never have been. I’m glad you’re starting to understand this.”

Her eyes flashed with anger. “Li Wu, that’s not what I’m saying at all. I’m merely relieving you of all duty and responsibility in this matter. I will take care of it myself. You may go.” She flicked her fingers at me.

Without thinking, I caught her hand and brought it to my chest. “I’m sorry. That’s not what I intended.”

She jerked away from me. “What is it you want? Why are you here?”

“I’m here because you’re my dearest friend.” My voice cracked at the end of the sentence. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come.”

Her eyes glistened. “We’re both fooling ourselves if you think I didn’t wish it were different. I want you to be by my side. I wish you loved me and wanted to make a life together as a team. But you do not. Thus, I’ll do as I please.” She swiped under her eyes and lifted her chin. “I want to help these boys and I’m going to do it, with or without your help.”

“I’m here to help you, Fi. I always will be. But you must think carefully about this. What will James think?”

“James? What does he have to do with anything?” She glared at me with a mixture of confusion and irritation.

“If you marry him, what will he think about two little boys…in your life?”

“The last time I checked, I wasn’t married to James.”

“But you could be in the future. Wouldn’t it be wise to think about your future when you make decisions like this?”

She flipped a curl from her damp forehead. The hallway had grown even warmer. “Whomever I marry, he will have to understand how I am.”

That was the truth if I’d ever heard one.

“Do you not like James?” Fiona asked, continuing to glare at me.

“There’s nothing to dislike.” Even though I hated him.

“Good. Because he may end up coming home with me too.”

Her words thrust me back against the wall, as if she’d shoved me. “Are you planning on marrying him?”

“It’s really none of your concern.”

I closed my eyes for a second, hoping the waves of pain would subside. It didn’t work. I wanted to fall onto my knees and beg her to take back what she said and to tell me she didn’t have those kinds of feelings for James. But she was right. It wasn’t my concern. She had every right to move on from me. I’d rejected her, after all. “I’m sorry. You must do what you see as best.”

“I will.”

“I’ll go out to the shops and get them some clothes.”

She reached into the pocket of her dress and pulled out several French bills. “Take this. If you can’t find anything already made, we’ll have to take them to a tailor.”

“I’ll find something.” I took the money from her and stuck it into my pocket. “I’ll hurry.”

She nodded and then stepped back inside the bathroom. I caught a glimpse of Bleu under the mercy of Gabriella’s washcloth before Fiona shut the door behind her.

I wasted no more time, gathering my wallet, and went back into the Parisian afternoon looking for clothes for two little boys, hoping that doing something for others would lessen the ache in my chest.

Tags: Tess Thompson Emerson Pass Historicals Historical
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