She blinked back tears. Soon she'd be gone, and all she'd have to keep her warm inside were memories. There would be no man to hold her, no friends to tease her, no seaside manor that had, in just a few short weeks, become home.
But of all the things she would miss, the absence that would hurt the most was that of Blake's smile. It was so rare, but when his lips turned up at the edges... And then when he actually laughed, the pure joy of the sound made her want to sing.
But he wasn't smiling now. His face was hard, and he was glaring at her as if she were some sort of antidote, and she knew that if she didn't get out of the room that instant she was going to make an utter fool of herself. "Excuse me," she said quickly, rushing toward the door.
"You can't go now!" Penelope exclaimed, jumping to her feet.
Caroline didn't turn around as she said, "I've said what I came here to say."
"But where are you going?"
"Out."
"Caroline."
It was Blake's voice, and just the sound of it made her eyes tear up. "What?" she managed to say. Perhaps it was a rude reply, but it was the best she could do.
"It's dark out. Or hadn't you noticed?"
"I'm going out to look at the stars."
She heard his footsteps and then felt his hand on her shoulder, slowly drawing her away from the door.
"The night is cloudy," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle. "You won't be able to see the stars."
She didn't even turn around as she said, "I know they're there. And that's all that matters."
Blake closed his eyes as she ran from the room, for some reason not wanting to see her retreating form.
"Now look what you've done," he heard his sister say. "You've broken that poor girl's heart."
He didn't answer, not knowing-hell, not wanting to know if his sister's words were true. If he had broken her heart, then he was a bastard of the worst sort. And if it wasn't true, it meant that Caroline didn't care about him, that their one night of passion hadn't meant anything to her.
And that was almost too painful to bear.
He didn't want to think about what he felt for her. He didn't want to analyze it, to pick it to pieces, or to try to put a label on it. Because he was terrified that if he did, the only word he'd be able to come up with was love, and that would have to be the cruelest joke of all.
Blake opened his eyes just in time to see the expression of disgust on Riverdale's face as he said, "You're an ass, Ravenscroft."
Blake said nothing.
"Marabelle is dead," James hissed.
Blake turned on his friend with such violence that Penelope flinched. "Don't mention her," he said in
a threatening voice. "She has no place in this conversation."
"Exactly," James replied. "She's dead, and you can't go on mourning her forever."
"You don't know," Blake said, shaking his head. "You don't know what it's like to love."
"And you know all too well," James murmured. "In fact, you've known twice."
"Blake," Penelope said softly, putting her hand on his arm. "I know you loved her. We all loved her. But Marabelle wouldn't have wanted you to go on like this. You're just a shell. You buried your soul along with hers."
Blake swallowed convulsively, wanting more than anything to flee the room, yet somehow he remained rooted to the spot.
"Let her go," Penelope whispered. "It's time, Blake. And Caroline loves you."
His head whipped around. "She said that?"
Penelope wanted to lie. He could see it in her eyes. But finally she shook her head.
"No, but it's easy to see."
"I won't hurt her," he vowed. "She deserves better."
"Then marry her," Penelope implored.
He shook his head. "If I marry her... God, I'd hurt her in more ways than you could imagine."
"Bloody hell!" James burst out. "Stop being so damned afraid. You're afraid of loving, you're afraid of living. The only bloody thing you're not afraid of is death. I'll give you one night. One night only."
Blake narrowed his eyes. "For what?"
"To make up your mind. But I promise you this: I will marry Caroline if you don't. So ask yourself if you'll be able to bear that for a lifetime."
James turned on his heel and stalked from the room.
"He's not making an idle threat," Penelope said. "He's quite fond of her."
"I know that," Blake snapped.
Penelope gave him a brief nod, men walked to the door. "I'll leave you to your thoughts."
That, Blake thought bitterly, was the last thing he wanted.
Chapter 20
hal-cy-on (adjective). Calm, quiet, peaceful, undisturbed.
I shan't look back upon these as halcyon days.
-From the personal dictionary of
Caroline Trent
Caroline was sitting on the sandy portion of the beach, gazing up at the sky. Just as Blake had pointed out, it was cloudy, so all she could see was the pale, blurry glow of the moon. She wrapped her arms around her bent knees and huddled against the cool breeze, her shoes lying next to her.
'It doesn't matter," she told herself, wiggling her toes in the coarse sand. "It just doesn't matter."
"What doesn't matter?"
Her head jerked up. Blake.
"How did you get here without my hearing you?"
He motioned behind him. "There is another path about fifty yards back."
"Oh. Well, if you have come to check up on me, you'll see that I am perfectly fine, and you can go back to the house."
"Caroline." He cleared his throat. "There are a few things I need to tell you."
She looked away. "You don't owe me any explanations."
He sat down beside her, unconsciously adopting the same position. He rested his chin on his knees and said, "There were reasons I swore never to marry."
"I don't want to hear it."
"Nonetheless, I need to say it."
She didn't say anything, so he continued. "When Marabelle died..." His voice caught.
"You don't have to do this," she said quickly. "Please."
He ignored her. "When she died, I thought-I felt-God, it's so hard to put into words." He exhaled, a world of heartbreak in that rush of air. "I was dead inside. That's the only way to describe it."
Caroline swallowed, barely able to resist the impulse to offer him the comfort of her hand on his arm.
"I can't be what you need."
"I know," she said bitterly. "I can't compete with a dead woman, after all."
He flinched at her words. "I swore I'd never marry. I-"
"I never asked that of you. I may have- Never mind."
"You may have what?"
Caroline just shook her head, unwilling to tell him that she may have wished for it. "Please continue," she said in a distracted voice.
He nodded, although it was clear that he was still curious about what she'd almost said. "I always told myself that I could not marry out of respect for Marabelle, that I didn't want to be disloyal to her memory. And I think I really believed it. But tonight I realized that was no longer true."
She turned to face him, a thousand questions in her eyes.
"Marabelle's dead," he said in a hollow voice. "And I know that. I can't bring her back. I never thought I could. It's just..."