Page 33 of The Girl Who Fell Through Time (To Fall Through Time #1)

Selene takes a careful breath. “I don’t understand,” she admits. “If you believe what I’m telling you, then why aren’t you more angry at me? You must know it’s because of me that Dorian could have…” Her throat starts to narrow.

Soren takes a long time to reply. “Until yesterday, I didn’t think you cared.”

Selene blinks, hoping to disguise the misting of her eyes. “I’m glad all my blubbering served some purpose, then. ”

“That it did.” Soren sipped his tea. “He likes you, you know. Quite a lot, I fear.”

“I’m not sure you’re right, there.”

“He…” Soren begins hesitantly. “He’s been hurt in the past. He lost someone very close to him. It affected him in ways that even I don’t fully understand. He’s been guarded ever since.”

Luna.

This makes a sad kind of sense to Selene.

So, Dorian had loved someone before, and lost her.

No wonder he worked himself to the bone, now.

No wonder he was hesitant to start something between them.

Perhaps he was thinking of Selene yet again, not wanting her trapped in a marriage with someone who might not be fully capable of loving her back.

Perhaps, perhaps.

“Who was she?” she asks Soren. “The woman he lost?”

Before either of them can say more, Marta’s returning footsteps break their privacy. Soren straightens slightly, his face shifting back toward something closer to his usual unreadable mask.

The carriage rocks to a halt before the steps of Ebonrose Hall, the horses snorting as they settle. Selene gazes up at the ivy-covered visage of the manor, and finds her nerves settling.

Home. Nothing can touch them, here.

Dorian steps down first. He barely has time to help Selene down before Ariella launches herself at Dorian. Rookwood follows, hobbling after her, and even Aunt Elizabeth has deemed to grace all with her presence.

“I thought—” Ariella’s voice wavers. “When we heard—”

“I’m fine,” Dorian assures her, his hands steady on her shoulders as he gently extricates himself. “Truly, Ari.”

She pulls back, still skeptical. “Where were you injured?”

“The left arm—”

Ariella thumps the right.

“Ow!” Dorian objects. “What was that for?”

“For worrying me!” she fumes.

“I was worried too, for the record,” Rookwood adds. “But I’m not going to hit you.”

“I appreciate that, Rook. Thank you.”

Aunt Elizabeth steps forward next. She clasps Dorian by the shoulders, turning his face slightly to give him the proper appraisal, and nods her head. “Glad to see you’re all right, nephew.”

“I am, Aunt, thank you. But I do wish to go inside. I’ve a lot of work to be getting on with. Ariella—could you send something up to my study?”

Ariella sighs. “You know I shall.”

Selene moves to head into the house too, but Aunt Elizabeth jabs a cane across her path. She turns to Selene with a pointed look. “Tea,” she says. “Now. Before you attempt to vanish on me.”

Selene blinks. “I—”

“No arguments. The rest of you can do whatever it is men insist on doing after travel, but she is coming with me.”

Selene glances towards Dorian, but he isn’t even looking at her. Soren and Marta are already unloading their things, and Rookwood gives a wheezing chuckle, though whether it is at Elizabeth’s insistence or simply the sight of them all returned, Selene can’t say.

“Very well,” she relents, smoothing her skirts. “Tea it is. ”

Elizabeth nods, satisfied, and links their arms. “Good girl.”

They slip into the parlour together. Aunt Elizabeth settles herself into the seat beside the window. Selene excuses herself briefly to relieve herself. A tea tray has already arrived by the time she returns.

“So,” says Elizabeth, pouring the tea, “how are things with you, my dear? It has been a while since we last spoke.”

Selene is surprised she isn’t asking about what happened at the Fairmont’s. “Aren’t you curious about—”

“Mildly,” admits Elizabeth. “But I can’t imagine you’ll enjoy my asking about that. It must have been rather scary for you, dear.”

Selene scrunches her skirt under the table. “It… it wasn’t pleasant.”

“These things seldom are.” She sips her tea, but finds it too hot. “Did something happen between you and my nephew?”

Selene bristles. “You… how did you—”

“Women’s intuition,” she tells her. “I’m not wrong, am I?”

“No,” says Selene quietly. “You aren’t wrong.”

“Do you wish to speak about it?”

Selene’s eyes well. “I don’t think he wants to be with me. Not… not in the way I think I would like to be with him.”

Elizabeth raises an eyebrow. “You think? ”

“I… I’m a little uncertain myself.”

“Perhaps it is your hesitation that causes his.”

Selene wants to believe that. It’s kinder than what she imagines the truth to be.

Love is not an easy or simple thing, it has layers.

For some, limits. Dorian can like her and not love her.

She can admire who he is, love his kindness, love how he makes her feel and the safety he brings, and not love him.

She understands his hesitation if he has loved and lost before.

She understands not wanting to be hurt again (she understands that so much) and, more than she understands anything, she knows she does not want to hurt him.

She’d prefer to hurt a little and by herself than put him through anything.

Dorian deserves to be loved—fully, properly.

Not half-heartedly by a scared girl overwhelmed by guilt and gratitude.

“I don’t think I’m right for him, Aunt Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth snorts. “Nonsense. You are kind, well-mannered, beautiful—”

Selene cringes. Her beauty has served her poorly in the past. It’s not that she doesn’t like being beautiful, but she dislikes being decorative. She dislikes how people see her face and nothing else.

“You disagree?” Elizabeth asks, misreading her expression.

“I don’t think beauty is a trait Dorian values.”

“No? What do you think he values?”

“Cleverness,” she admits. “Kindness. Generosity. Thoughtfulness…”

“I see.” Aunt Elizabeth smiles, sipping her cup. “You think you are lacking in this regard?”

Selene is worried that any more words will send her sobbing. She sips her tea and says nothing. It’s easier than admitting aloud that she thinks she lacks all of those things.