“Thank you,” she said gently. Her cheeks were burning, more than the fire on the water could reflect. “I know it was you who worked out who killed Olivia, and why. And I know my brother well enough to guess at the part he played. I long ago ceased to believe he was a nice person, but I am grateful that you tried to protect me from knowing the extent of his cruelty.”
He could still think of nothing to say. He wanted to tell her that he loved her, he would always love her, and no price to his own pride or ambition was too great to pay for her happiness. But that would only embarrass her, and forfeit the last, brief thread of friendship that they had, which he could keep bound to his heart.
“You gave Alan all the pieces, didn't you?” she asked.
He would not answer. It was the last temptation, and he refused to succumb. He smiled at her. “He's going to make a good policeman.”
“I hope so,” she agreed. “I think it matters to him. But he is not as good as you are, because there will probably never be another case like this.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “And he is not as good a man as you are. Truth means less to him, and he does not seek it for its own sake.”
He felt his cheeks burn. He would never in all his life forget this moment. From now on, forever, he would strive to be the man she had said he was to her. He wanted to tell her how great a gift that was, that the fire of it burned inside him, lighting every corner, every wish and thought, but there were no words big enough, gracious enough, articulate enough to do this feeling justice.
“Mr. Runcorn,” she said impatiently, her face burning. “Do I have to ask you if you love me? That is so undignified for a woman.”
He was stunned. She knew. All his careful concealment, his efforts to behave with dignity had been for nothing.
“Yes,” he said awkwardly. “Of course I do. Butâ”
“But you don't want a wife?”
“Yes! Yes, I do â¦Â but ⦔
He was paralyzed. This was not possible.
She lowered her eyes and slowly turned away.
He took a step after her, and another, catching her arm gently, but then refusing to let go. “Yes, I do, but I could not marry anyone else. Every time I looked at her, I would wish she were you. I've never loved before, and I cannot again.”
She smiled at him. “You don't need to, Mr. Runcorn. Once will be enough. If you would be so good as to ask me, I shall accept.”
To all those who
dream impossible dreams
BY ANNE PERRY
(
published by The Random House Publishing Group
)
F
EATURING
W
ILLIAM
M
ONK
The Face of a Stranger
A Dangerous Mourning
Defend and Betray
A Sudden, Fearful Death
The Sins of the Wolf
Cain His Brother
Weighed in the Balance
The Silent Cry
A Breach of Promise
The Twisted Root
Slaves of Obsession
Funeral in Blue
Death of a Stranger
The Shifting Tide
Dark Assassin
F
EATURING
T
HOMAS AND
C
HARLOTTE
P
ITT
The Cater Street Hangman
Callander Square
Paragon Walk
Resurrection Row
Bluegate Fields
Rutland Place
Death in the Devil's Acre
Cardington Crescent
Silence in Hanover Close
Bethlehem Road
Highgate Rise
Belgrave Square
Farriers' Lane
The Hyde Park Headsman
Traitors Gate
Pentecost Alley
Ashworth Hall
Brunswick Gardens
Bedford Square
Half Moon Street
The Whitechapel Conspiracy
Southampton Row
Seven Dials
Long Spoon Lane
T
HE
W
ORLD
W
AR
I N
OVELS
No Graves As Yet
Angels in the Gloom
Shoulder the Sky
At Some Disputed Barricade
We Shall Not Sleep
T
HE
C
HRISTMAS
N
OVELS
A Christmas Journey
A Christmas Guest
A Christmas Visitor
A Christmas Secret
A Christmas Beginning
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
A
NNE
P
ERRY
is the bestselling author of four earlier holiday novelsâ
A Christmas Journey, A Christmas Visitor, A Christmas Guest,
and
A Christmas Secretâ
as well as two acclaimed series set in Victorian Englandâthe William Monk novels and the Charlotte and Thomas Pitt novelsâand five World War I novels. Anne Perry lives in Scotland. Visit her website at
www.anneperry.net
.