She ignored the call, hurrying along the muddy path, her feet slipping every so often, an arm held above her in futile attempt to keep the rain from her eyes. But already it fell on her face, mingling with her tears.
Why must he always, always, say such horrible things?
What had she done to him to warrant having her deepest, most guarded secret exposed for all the world to see?
He was closer, almost upon her. It was hopeless. Soaked through, shivering, and heartbroken, she took refuge under a nearby tree and closed her eyes, wishing he would just leave her.
She felt his stare heavy on her back as they caught their breath.
Here, the rain was lessened, the leaves above them sheltering them from the downpour. The wind brushed her bared arms and she could not stop the shiver that wracked her frame.
Suddenly, she was engulfed in warmth and the scent of sandalwood, the hint of tobacco smoke, and something that made her heart ache for home.
She gripped the lapels of his coat, her frigid fingers tugging it close around her, for she had no pride left to toss it at his feet.
“Thank you.” She wondered if he heard her whisper over the distant rumbling thunder.
“Will you not look at me?”
Curse her heart, though broken, she could not deny his soft plea.
Hesitantly, she turned around and lifted her gaze. Without his heavy coat, he seemed less intimidating. Mud caked his shoes and splattered up his trousers. His white shirt was gathering the misting rain fast, slick against his shoulders, braces straining against his chest.
Rain dripped down his face, his curls heavy with water and hanging over his forehead.
His eyes, though, stole her breath away. They were not the cold, piercing gray that had cut her down just moments ago.
They were soft, a warm green-blue, beckoning to her.
She watched carefully as he stepped closer.
“I was wrong. So very wrong,” he whispered, almost in wonder. Regret softened his voice and the hard edges of his face. “I thought…”
“Yes?” She encouraged when he trailed off helplessly.
He swallowed and her eyes briefly fell to the exposed line of his throat. “That you were engaged.”
Of all the reasons he could have chosen, she did not expect that. Her eyes widened in surprise. “Is that why you have been so cruel? Why you have pushed me away at every opportunity?”
Hesitantly, he said, “It was not right for me to love another man’s betrothed.”
It was if the rain had stilled in midair, the entire world holding its breath, in the silence that followed.
She stared at him. He had been cruel and broken her heart into a thousand pieces. But she knew who he was she had fallen in love with him, for all his flaws and all his virtues, for the way he rushed headfirst into danger, for the smile on his face when he lifted their goddaughter in the air.
All this time she had resigned herself to a life alone. For if she could not marry for love, she would not marry at all. And now here was the great detective, humble, before her, holding out his heart to her.
“There has never been anyone else,” she whispered. “It has always been you.”
His eyes softened, the fear vanishing. Then she felt his hand cover hers, the warmth melting her cold fingers. His brow furrowed in concern and he cocooned her hand in both of his, his thumbs sweeping over her palm. When he brought her hand up to his mouth, she thought her heart would stop, the reverent brush of his lips against her wrist bringing a warm flush to her cheeks.
“I know I have a long path to walk to earn your forgiveness,” he said softly, keeping her hand captive with one hand and reaching out with the other to brush the tangled strands that clung to her cheek. “But may I kiss you?”
She leaned into his touch and smiled softly. “Please do.”
She closed her eyes in anticipation, expecting him to kiss her as passionately as he approached everything else. But to her surprise, he was almost hesitant, his lips only just brushing hers. Once. Twice.
Her other hand came up around his neck and he took the hint, lingering long enough for her to deepen the kiss. He tasted of raindrops and tea, a subtle tinge of tobacco, and undeniably home. He held her with a gentleness that belied his cruel words, his kiss an unspoken plea for forgiveness.
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