And I regret it. That mattered to her. He saw it. She needed him to understand that Eleanor was not merely an obstacle removed from his path.
She was a person who would have to wake tomorrow inside a changed story. Arthur took one step closer then stopped. I did not come here to ask you to celebrate her pain. Good.
And I did not come because last night frightened me into rebellion. Clara looked back at him. He breathed in slowly. The air smelled of wet grass and cold water.
I have spent the morning asking myself whether you were right. Whether I had mistaken relief for love. Whether I wanted you because you seemed like a door out of the life I feared. And?
And I found that when I imagined leaving here without you I did not feel trapped, he said. I felt false. Her face changed slightly but she did not interrupt. I do not want you because you free me from duty, Arthur continued.
I want you because you remind me that duty without honesty becomes a kind of cowardice. I do not want a wife who echoes me back to myself until neither of us can tell whether I am still alive. I want a companion who will disagree with me in gardens, stop me in libraries, and know when my finest sentences are hiding the worst parts of me. Clara's breath caught.
It was small, but he heard it. Arthur moved no closer. I cannot promise you a quiet life in every respect. Westley Abbey is not a cottage.
There will be duties, guests, tenants, dinners, and rooms full of people who speak too much. If you stand beside me, some will say I chose badly. Some will say worse of you than they dare say of me. I know.
But I can promise that I will not ask you to become Eleanor, or my mother, or any portrait on a wall. The title may shape our days, but it will not own your spirit if I have strength enough to prevent it. And when I do not, I trust you to tell me. Clara lowered her gaze to the stream.
For a long time, she said nothing. Arthur let the silence remain. It was hers to use. When she spoke, her voice was quieter.
I have made peace with being overlooked. It is not always pleasant, but it is simple. No one asks much of a woman they have decided not to notice. I would notice you.
That is what frightens me. He felt the answer in his chest. Why? Because to be seen truly is not always gentle, Clara said.