Zander held him through it all. And now when Zander wept, he gave up tears for them both — for he had never had the will to refuse Theo anything. He pulled Theo's cravat free of his collar and twisted it into a thick cord. Then he waited. For the next quarter of an hour or so, Theo would lie quietly, unconscious from exhaustion before the torment began again.

For this brief time, Zander would hold his oldest and dearest friend in his arms and whisper silly tales about Miss Maisie Sinclair.

For these last short moments, Zander could continue to exist as a man who had not yet murdered his dearest friend.

CHAPTER 28

Chapter 28

LYSANDER LOOKED UP FROM his hands, which were twisting his own cravat, wrapping and unwrapping around his fists. When had he taken it off?

As the words had come at last, they had begun to flow. His tongue had not faltered much after the beginning. He had relived every moment of that nightmarish day and night as he'd spoken. Never once had he looked at Gemma's face. He didn't want to know. He'd made his confession but he did not feel absolved, for all that his tongue had loosened at last.

He missed Theo, suddenly and fiercely, in a way his frozen emotions had never yet allowed him to. Death had come for Theo. All his lively wit and youthful strength had not been enough to spare him.

Lysander had no reason to expect better from his own life. He yet breathed. He had a family that truly wished to embrace him again. There was a woman whom Lysander loved with the entirety of his patchwork-mended heart, regardless of how she might feel about him.

These were things that Theo would never have. Lysander could not beg Theo's forgiveness and there was no one else with the right to pardon him.

What he wished from Gemma was her own whole heart. Not to give to him, but to have for herself.

No matter how he feared what he might now spy upon her beautiful face, that confession had not been to her, it had been for her. He must finish this whilst she still listened. "Your choice was to save life, don't you see? My choice was to take it. Those were not the same acts at all."

GEMMA FELT AS IF her body was frozen. Even her thoughts felt slushy and cold, spiked with icy crystals of shock.

In a strange way, Mr. Worthington's confession had accomplished its mission. She now understood the difference between a poor medical decision and murder.

She had been arrogant and irresponsible, so sure that her book-fed knowledge made her a better midwife. She'd forgotten that her practical experience was based on battlefield surgery, gunshot wounds and broken bones.