"I gave," he protested. "In Eleanor's Folly, I didn't just take, I gave."
"Yes," she agreed, smiling at the memory. "You gave me incredible pleasure and you allowed me to give you pleasure. And I will always be grateful to you for teaching me about desire. But you did that with your body, Jarrod. Not with your heart."
"I don't know how to do anything with my heart," Jarrod told her. "Except protect it."
"Then you should understand that that's what I tried to do," she told him. "Whenever I dreamed of you, I always dreamed that when you saw me all grown up, you'd look at me and fall on your knees and ask me to marry you. But you made no secret of the fact that you don't want a wife, so I tried to become your lover. When that didn't work, I tried to convince you that I would rather be someone else's lover."
"Why?"
"To make you jealous," she admitted. "To make you admit that you love me a little. But you weren't jealous. And you don't love me — even a little — and I can't pretend anymore."
"Sarah…"
"I look at you and I see the man I love and you look at me and see a nuisance. I love you, but my love causes you aggravation and frustration. And love isn't supposed to cause aggravation and frustration." She looked up at him and there were tears in her eyes when she spoke. "It isn't supposed to be a thorn in your side. Or an itch you can't be rid of. It's supposed to be something you cherish. Something you are glad to have. You're a proud man, Lord Shepherdston. A fine, honorable man. A man any woman would be proud to call her own. But I have pride, too. I've loved you since I was a little girl. I've tried to be a part of your life and to prove to you that I could be trusted with your heart by keeping your secret. I knew about your league and I never breathed a word of it because I knew that keeping it secret was important to you. And keeping each other's secrets and overlooking each other's faults is what love and friendship is all about. But you haven't learned that yet." She stopped to draw a shaky breath. "I've loved you nearly all my life and I just realized that I was wrong."
"What do you mean you were wrong?" he asked.
"When I said you were a very attractive man and that I had no doubt you'd be an excellent lover, but you were hardly what one would want in a husband, I thought I was lying because I only said it to prick your pride and make you think. I said it to make you look at me with new eyes and see that you were exactly the right husband material for me because I loved you. Because I believed we were made for each other. But I was wrong. We weren't made for each other." She gave a sad little laugh. "I've been fighting what you've been trying to tell me all along."
The last strains of the waltz died away and Sarah stopped dancing.
"And what was that?" he asked, suddenly, terribly afraid that she had finally seen the real man, instead of the man she wanted him to be. Terribly afraid that she had finally seen the truth.
"That I shouldn't want a man who thinks my love is an aggravation, a nuisance, and a bother. Because the truth is that you are hardly husband material. I thought I was lying, but I was speaking the truth. I grew up knowing I wasn't beautiful and that I hadn't a title or a great fortune, and I've spent my life striving to be good enough for you. But the truth, Lord Shepherdston, is that you aren't nearly good enough for me."
* * * * *
Sarah cried the whole way home. She didn't make a sound as she rode in the coach beside Aunt Etta and opposite Lord Mayhew, but she couldn't stop crying.
Once again, she'd made a cake of herself over Jarrod Shepherdston. And everything had been going so well until she'd slipped and told him how much she wanted to marry him. Everything had been going so well until she'd seen the look on his face.
She had come so close to having her dream and she had ruined it with the truth.
"Sarah," Aunt Etta said gently, "don't cry, my dear, he'll come around."
"No, he won't." She cried harder. "Not after tonight, not after what I said."
"What did you say, my dear, that was so terrible?" Lord Mayhew asked.
"I told him I loved him."
"That's good," Lord Mayhew said. "Everything is going to be all right. I promise. The boy will come around. He's stubborn, but he's not stupid."
Sarah looked up and gave Lord Mayhew a tremulous smile. "He may come around," she whispered. "But will I still want him when he does?" That was the question that frightened her so. She had loved him all her life, and now, she was afraid it had all been for naught.
"I don't think you have to worry," Lord Mayhew soothed. "For I don't think there's an inconstant bone in your body."
* * * * *
Jarrod was in a rare high fit of temper by the time he arrived at Colin and Gillian's home at 21 Park Lane. How dare Sarah do this to him? How dare she fill his head with all this nonsense about him never growing up? He'd become the marquess at six and ten. He'd shouldered the weight and the responsibility of running a large estate and managing several households and dozens of employees. Who did she think she was to tell him he wasn't good enough for her? He was the fifth Marquess of Shepherdston.
If she expected him to chase her, she was in for a surprise. He'd had women chasing him since he was two and ten years old, for God's sake! He didn't need to chase anyone.
But every time he closed his eyes he saw Sarah. Sarah laughing. Sarah smiling. Sarah confessing her love for him. Sarah crying. Sarah walking away.
His temper suddenly dissolved and disbelief set in. After all the years of following him around like a puppy wherever he went, after spying on him and trying her damnedest to seduce him, Sarah had walked away without a backward glance.
And although he'd had every opportunity, Jarrod hadn't been able to find the words to ask her to stay.