Page 16 of The Mistress (Foxgloves #1)

GIDEON

S he was magnificent. Gideon hadn’t meant to kiss her, or at least he hadn’t consciously intended to when he led her away from the party. He wanted some privacy with her, something they had yet to truly have, after she had unexpectedly told him she missed him. Unashamed. Unrestrained in her honesty. He wasn’t sure if it was a core quality of her personality or something she only possessed with him, but it was refreshing and empowering to hear her speak her thoughts so openly and without hesitation. He had never experienced that kind of honesty from anyone, nor had he imagined such a thing existed. He hadn’t seen anything even remotely resembling it in his parents’ volatile relationship. It gave him hope. And that extremely vulnerable and fragile part of him that kept making itself known in her presence wondered if perhaps they could have something more tender than what he had initially thought possible between them.

Now, as he observed her after those damned children had interrupted them, he couldn’t imagine anyone more perfect. She was looking at him with such unmitigated trust. Without a single care or worry, as if she could depend solely on him. That kind of faith was staggering. It made him immediately want to be a better man for her. To never let her down. To never lose that look, that trust. He felt the most wonderful and powerful pressure begin to settle upon him. Like he held the most precious thing in the world.

He reached over and gently took her hand in his again as he sidled closer. “I can’t either,” he admitted.

“Pardon?” Her eyebrows twitched adorably in confusion.

“I can’t hide from you either,” he told her honestly. He released her hand to clasp both of his together as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and stared at the grass at their feet. Instinctively hiding his gaze from hers as he exposed himself. “There are parts of me that I’ve kept so deeply buried, even from myself, that are coming forward now with a new kind of desperation. Because you can see them. Those hidden parts. And they want to be seen.”

There was a pause before Amelia shifted closer so that the side of her body touched his. She didn’t say anything, didn’t pressure him. She just silently gave him her support and waited for whatever he wanted to give.

So, that little boy gave her all.

“My father was not a kind man,” he began. It was odd how it was the voice of a man that filled his ears, when he felt so much like that confused, hurt child he still kept locked up tight within himself. “He didn’t harm us physically, and he left me very much alone, never talking to or acknowledging me. But he was outright cruel to my mother. For a long time, it was just us three, and I never knew any warmth from her either. I can’t say it was her fault. She’d wasted away in her relationship with my father, and the woman I knew was a shell. But I loved her.” He was gripping his hands together so tightly that his knuckles turned white, but Gideon couldn’t feel it. “Very much. I didn’t have my father’s love or attention, but I was desperate, desperate , for hers, Amelia.”

He dropped his head, shaking it. “I was convinced that if I just loved her enough, that love would be enough for her. Enough to make her happy. Enough to make up for my father’s neglect. It would be enough to bring her back to life.” He paused, and the voice that spoke next was hard and jaded. “It wasn’t.

“By the time Genevieve came along when I was sixteen, I had long since understood that my father’s disregard had so completely broken my mother, there was nothing left for me in that family. But I still couldn’t leave. Not until my mother died did I finally run away. I ran away for nine years. That’s how long it took for my father to finally die, and when I came back, I had to live with the consequences of my selfishness.”

Amelia said nothing as he stopped to take a deep breath. His posture remained unchanged, but he lifted his head to look out over the greenery around them. She simply sat beside him with the warmth of her body pressed against his increasingly cold one.

Exhaling, he continued, “I had left Genevieve alone for nine long years with no one but that devil that sired us. In truth,” he forced himself to say it. “I didn’t even think of her. And when I returned, she didn’t speak. It was months before she said a single word around me, and even then, not directly to me. She just watched me. All the time, like some type of scared animal.

“I fired the whole staff,” his teeth ground out. “Any adult in the house that had been there and allowed her to become that fearful. But it was my fault. I am her brother. Her family. And I hadn’t been there for her.” His voice broke on the last word, and he stopped speaking.

“How are things between you now?” Amelia asked gently after a few moments passed in silence.

That thought made him relax a bit. He unclenched his fingers, finally sitting up and rubbing his stiff hands against his thighs as he told her, “Good, very good.” He still looked out into the garden as he spoke, but he could see her watching him out of the side of his eye. “It took time, but we became close. I was careful with her, and I admit it took some time for me to trust her, too. Trust that she wouldn’t reject me like our mother had. But once I realized how she soaked up the affection I gave her, I focused it all on her. And she slowly came out of that protective shell she lived in.” He took a few breaths, making sure he had himself in hand.

“And the piano, as well,” he added now turning to face her and meeting her soothing gaze. “The piano helped. I found her a proper instructor, and she surpassed him within weeks.”

He smiled at the memory, and Amelia reflected it back at him, speaking genuinely, “She sounds exceedingly talented.”

“She is,” he nodded.

Her face turned sober as she looked down at his hand, reaching for it.

“Gideon,” she said, her soft brown eyes meeting his again and taking his breath away for the hard strength he saw within them. “You are enough. You are more than enough. It was your mother’s failing, not yours, that she did not see it. And your father’s choices, his actions, are not your burden to bear. Neither with regard to your mother, nor your sister. I know I cannot say anything to absolve you of the guilt you carry, but I can assure you, you do so unfairly. You were a child. And you were hurt and uncared for. You did what you needed to do to heal enough and become the person that could heal your sister in turn. If you hadn’t gone, if you hadn’t separated from the place that harmed you all your life, you might not have become someone able to show her even the slightest amount of love, which is what it seems she needed.”

Her words shot through him, and he didn’t know what to do or think or feel. She wasn’t judging him at all, but comforting him. The little boy inside him crumbled at the words he needed but thought he’d never hear. And the man he was didn’t know what to do in this moment as he felt the turmoil and heartbroken joy burn within him.

The logic of what she said made sense, but could it really be that simple?

He couldn’t speak, but his eyes held onto her steady and sure ones like the lifeline they were.

She squeezed his hand, lifting it to her lips to kiss his knuckles before she clasped her free hand around him, too. Holding their hands against her chest, she spoke with unwavering confidence, “You didn’t leave her, Gideon. You came back to her .”