by Rose Gordon
“I'm sorry,” Elijah whispered. “I wish I'd come back sooner so I could have told you before you married her. I never anticipated she'd actually come in the first place.”
Henry ignored him. There wasn't anything to say in response. He'd been played a fool.
~Chapter Thirty-Two~
Henry could not remember a time he'd been so uncertain. His palms were sweating, his skin felt like it was on fire and his vision was still blurring in front of him. Everything he'd believed to be true, he'd just been told was a lie.
Unfortunately, he didn't know who to believe: his brother who had no reason to lie to him, or his heart. While his heart had no reason to lie to him either, it didn't mean it wasn't possible for it to have led him into the trap of a vengeful liar. His chest constricted painfully.
What of Madison. She'd be coming here sometime tomorrow, not suspecting a thing. She might have been the object of Laura's husband's attention, but that did not mean she needed to be subjected to any type of scorn or cruelty. And at the hands of Henry's wife, no less. That would not be happening as long as there was still breath in his lungs. But would she do that anyway? With everything that had happened to her in the past with her stepmother and her awful marriage, would she really be the kind to seek revenge and hurt another?
That was the worst of it all. Perhaps the part that was the hardest for him to make sense of. On one hand, she'd been abused in nearly every way possible, so would she really want to inflict that fate on someone else, knowing how it feels? Or would her bitterness from her past, only spur her on to want to make that a reality for the woman she faulted as the reason for her own abuse.
He closed his eyes and scrubbed his face with his hands. Thinking of everything logically, he was inclined to believe the latter. The papers Elijah had presented him, coupled with her actions of coming across the ocean were indisputable. His heart hurt in a whole new way as the realization of just how much he'd been fooled and that he was about to truly lose her. She couldn't stay if that was her motive, even if that meant he had to bodily put her on the ship and hold her down until it departed, then jump overboard and swim back to shore.
He didn't care if it brought scandal on his family name if word of this got out. Far better that he live with the shame of living apart from his wife—or worse, a parliamentary divorce—than to have to live with the shame and guilt of allowing his wife to hurt his cousin.
But that still didn't make sense. He knew her better than that, didn't he?
He dug his fingers in his hair, curled them around his strands and pulled.
A loud knock came at the door, but Henry ignored it.
“Henry?”
“What do you want, Alex?” he barked.
Alex slowly opened the door and came inside. “Well, I wanted to retrieve my notes about hyacinth stems. But now, that I see that you're on the verge of pulling your own hair out, I want to help you.”
Henry released his tight grip on his hair. “I don't need any help, thank you.”
“I think that you do,” Alex said, sitting in the chair opposite him. “I have no idea what the problem is, but the fact that you're here brooding in my library and your wife isn't anywhere to be found, makes me think there is some sort of problem.”
Henry's eyes narrowed on his brother. “What do you mean, that she's nowhere to be found?”
“She's not in the drawing room with Mother, Weenie and Caro, and now I see that she isn't in the library with you as I'd originally thought she might be—which is why I didn't let myself in before knocking. Unlike some people who have no courtesy for a man and his wife when they are alone in a room together, I wait until they emerge before going inside…”
Henry scoffed. “How was I supposed to know you and Caroline preferred to have intimate encounters in the library as opposed to the bedchamber?”
Alex's face reddened. “I don't like your implication, Henry. Moreover, this is my house and Caroline and I can use whichever room we wish.”
That would certainly make Henry more cautious when invited to the dining table. He shuddered. “Thank you for the warning. I'll be sure to heed it when I come to visit.”
“Will you and Laura be moving to London, then?”
His gut clenched, but didn't wish to discuss any of this with his brother. He forced himself to stand. “If you'll excuse me, I need to go find my wife.”
“To make amends?”
“Make amends?” Henry echoed with a scoff. Then before he knew what he was saying, he blurted, “Not bloody likely.”
Alex's eyebrows shot to his hairline. “Then I was correct and you two have had a quarrel.” His statement, though not meant unkindly, only angered Henry more.
“My marriage isn't any of your concern,” Henry bit off.
“That might be,” Alex conceded. “But you are my brother, so your happiness is my concern. Would you care to tell me what's wrong?”
Henry crossed his arms and studied Alex. Something wasn't right about this conversation. Alex was one of the least perceptive individuals Henry had ever met. While he had relied on physical facts, such as Henry being in the library alone and Laura not being in there with him, and his need to retrieve something, generally speaking, Alex didn't go around instigating conversations about helping people solve their problems. Oftentimes, he didn't even know when those around him were under any type of distress at all. This was not the work of Alex alone.
A surge of irritation shot through him. He'd been so caught up thinking about Laura and her deceit that he'd let his guard down and was tricked by his brother. “Tell Caroline you've had your chat with me and all is fine.”
Alex's face flushed. “I would, but she'd know I was lying.”
“Infuriating, meddlesome woman,” Henry mumbled, shaking his head.
Alex grinned. “Ah, but she is my infuriating, meddlesome woman.” His smile slipped. “It would seem that yours is being a bit infuriating at the moment, too.”
“Alex, I appreciate that you're trying to help; and I appreciate that Caroline has put you up to this; but leave it alone. This isn't anything that concerns you, and the less who know anything about it, the better.”
“Are you or Laura in some sort of trouble?” Genuine concern laced his voice.
Henry pressed his lips together. There was no way he wanted to admit his folly to his brother. Not that he thought Alex would gloat, he wouldn't; but neither did Henry want anyone else to know what a fool she'd made of him. “No. Nobody is in trouble.” At least not yet. She might find herself that way if she tried to lie to him about her actions or tried to fool him again.
Alex sighed. “Henry, would you please tell me what the blazes is going on, so I can offer you some sort of advice, as my wife wants me to, then I can return to reading the latest edition of Prominent and Avant-Garde Horticulture?”
Henry didn't know which was worse: being asked to give marital advice by one's wife or reading such a boring circular. “Fine, if you don't think Caroline will believe that you helped me, tell her that you tried to help, but I didn't need your advice. I had everything well-in-hand already.”
Alex snorted. “She really won't believe that.”
“She will if you tell her to,” Henry retorted.
“Not that part,” Alex said, flicking his wrist. “She'll be horrified that you think you have everything well in hand, as you claim, and send me back out here to talk you out of whatever foolish notion that has taken root in that sponge you call a brain.”
“Well, Caroline doesn't know everything,” Henry snapped, scowling.
Alex sobered, and to Henry's surprise, he nodded slowly and said, “No, she doesn't. Neither do I. And, I'd wager that you don't, either.”
“What the devil is that to mean?”
“It means precisely what I said.” He crossed his ankles. “While I have no idea what all of this is about, ” he dropped his voice, “— nor do I particularly care to, mind you—I know from my own experience that most marital spat
s are nothing more than a misunderstanding.”
“A misunderstanding,” Henry muttered, shaking his head in disgust. This was not a misunderstanding. Laura understood perfectly well what she'd done. The only one who'd misunderstood was him.
“Yes, a misunderstanding.” Alex crossed his arms and dropped his gaze to the floor, where he was using the side of his right boot to scrape a bit of dried mud from the top of his left. “From time to time, Caroline and I have disagreements, most of which are simple and solved by hearing what the other has to say. But they weren't always so easy to fix.
“While I like to think I'm always logical and use reasoning to make decisions, when it comes to those I love, that's not always true. Sometimes when we quarrel, my emotions, or Caroline's, get caught up in the disagreement and logical reasoning evaporates.” A sound similar to a half-grunt, half scoff came from his throat. “Had you been at the house party last year, you'd have seen this when I called Sir Wallace out.”
Alex shook his head. “What I learned during our first disagreement was that there was something I didn't know. There always is. I knew what I'd heard. I knew what I'd reasoned out in my head to be true. I knew how hurt I was; and instead of asking her or simply closing my mouth when she tried to explain anything, I did what I thought was best and made a simple misunderstanding into something far more painful and drawn out than it needed to be. Is that what you want?”
“I don't know what it is that I want anymore.” Henry's whispered admission hit him like a punch to the gut. But for as hard as it was to fathom, it didn't make it any less true. He wanted to believe it wasn't true. That there was something he was missing. That his heart had not misled him into trusting her. The woman he'd fallen in love with wasn't the same one Elijah had described tonight. She couldn't be. And yet, the proof was there. He clenched his fists. She'd lied to him. She'd used him for malicious purposes and he hated that. Worst of all, she'd tricked him into giving her his name right along with his heart.
“You want her,” Alex said softly. “I know that you do. Even when I swore to Caroline that I'd never think of her the same way again, I did. I still wanted her. All of her. And I could have spared us both a fractured heart and bitter words had I just talked to her. Just like you can. Put aside what you think you know and ask her for her side of things.”
Henry frowned. “This isn't some trivial matter, Alex. I know enough of her side of things already, more than she'd want, too, I'd wager.”
“No,” Alex said quietly. “You just think you know her side of things. And perhaps you even think you know enough to make a decision about, but you'll never know for sure if you don't ask her.”
“I can't,” Henry said hoarsely. And that was the truth of it. The last thing he wanted to hear was her confirm his brother's charges. It might feel like his heart was breaking now, but it would be broken beyond repair if it was true.
“Is that what you really believe, or just what you want to believe?”
A moment of silence passed.
“Then I suppose you're prepared to lose her?”
Henry closed his eyes and swallowed to return the bile that had risen in his throat back to his stomach. “I don't believe it's possible to lose something you've never actually had.”
“And I don't believe it's possible that you never had her.” Alex idly tapped his fingers on the arms of his chair. “I know that I don't know everything, but what I do know is that young lady adores you, or so Caroline said in her prattling last night. I'm urging you to put away your wounded pride and listen to what she has to say and then decide what to do, or you might forever regret it.”
~Chapter Thirty-Three~
Laura sat on the edge of the bed, kicking her slippered foot back and forth. Henry had been gone now for a little more than two hours. Surely he'd be coming back soon. Provided he was coming back at all. Once his brother told him whatever it was that he knew about her past, Henry might never want to lay eyes on her again, even if it was only to see her gone. A hard lump formed in her throat, making it impossible to breathe.
He wasn't like that. He wouldn't just vanish without at least coming to speak to her first, would he?
Not that it was anything less than she deserved. What she'd planned to do and the great lengths she'd intended to go to were unforgivable.
She glanced down at the small leather bag at her feet. It had taken her all of five minutes to stuff all of her earthly belongings into it. She clenched her hands into fists and squeezed so hard that she winced at the bruising sensation of her fingernails biting into the tender flesh of her palms and fought the urge to grab her bag and run. Run as far and as fast as she could. But she wasn't going to run. She'd created this mess and it was time now to face her fear and confess.
She closed her eyes to keep in her tears. She could do this. She had to do this. He'd been nothing but good to her and he deserved to know everything before she left.
Of course, her telling him the truth wouldn't change his mind. He'd likely never forgive her, and she couldn't possibly expect him to. But the least she owed him was an explanation for her actions and the assurance that she would never bother him or anyone in his family again.
Or would he even care? He hadn't returned yet. It couldn't have taken Elijah more than a minute or two to tell Henry about the circumstances of his signing the betrothal agreement and any assumptions he might have for why she'd wanted it. Not that it would matter. She'd manipulated the situation and no man wished to be manipulated. She idly picked the beginning of a hangnail. Two weeks ago, she wouldn't have cared what Elijah told him. She'd have claimed she'd done it for the sole purpose of wanting a better life for herself, and likely, he'd have accepted that. But that wasn't the only reason, and she knew it. He and Elijah might not know the real reason, but she did; and she could no longer live with the constant worry of having to avoid Madison or one of her sisters. But more than that, she could no longer continue to lie to Henry.
The unmistakable sound of a door opening stole her thoughts and stilled her heart. It was time.
***
Henry walked into the darkened cottage and immediately lit the wall sconce he knew to be just inside the door before shutting it. He plucked the candle from its holder and made his way to the staircase. Laura might be asleep; but there was still much to discuss and he had no intention to wait for tomorrow.
His feet felt like they were weighted with lead as he ascended the stairs and walked down the hall to the bedroom. He pushed the door open and was startled to see her sitting on the edge of the bed, every candle in the room lit.
“Hullo Henry,” she greeted.
Henry blew his candle out and set it down on the bureau. “Laura.” He folded his arms and debated his next words. For as strange as it seemed to accept marital advice from a man who was known for his tendency to discuss the mating habits of hedgehogs in relation to the way a married couple acted toward one another, Alex did have a point. He'd only heard the side of things that Elijah had presented. Not that he thought for one minute that Elijah would purposely sabotage Henry's relationship, but he might not have been informed of everything. He could only pray that was the case and that his heart hadn't been wrong; however, he wasn't one to live on castles in the clouds and knew there was a very real possibility she might not say a single thing to change his mind. But he owed it to them both to listen.
And listen was all he'd do. He wouldn't tell her what he knew. He wanted to hear what she had to say. Everything they'd built between them depended on it.
“Why aren't you sleeping?”
“For the same reason you aren't, I should think.”
The hair on the back of his neck stood on end and his gut knotted at her evasive answer. Was Elijah right about her being the one in ten thousand, the one who knew just what to say to get the other to expose what they knew first? “I didn't realize you'd met your brother for a spot of chitchat in the library. Is he still around?” He craned his neck to make a display of looking
past her. “I'd like to meet the chap.”
“Stop it,” she said with a frown. “You know very well what I meant.” She took a deep breath and ran her hands along the top of her wrinkled skirt. “I'm assuming that Elijah told you of our bargain?”
He scoffed, “Bargain?” Is that really what she planned to call it?
“I wouldn't reveal to anyone that the two of you were not who you said you were in exchange for his signing the contract.”
Henry didn't move. He'd heard this before and she had to know that Elijah had told him that much. It wouldn't be in her best interest to refute this.
“I can't say that I'm sorry for having done it,” she whispered, turning Henry's blood to ice in an instant. “As it all worked out better than I'd planned—”
He forced himself to release his fists and flex his fingers, lest he break them from clenching them so tightly. He'd just bet it had worked out better than she'd planned.
“—but it was wrong.” She choked back a sob. “I was wrong.”
“Wrong for blackmailing Elijah?” he asked bitterly.
She didn't wince at his words or his tone as he thought she might. “Yes.” She dug her fingers into the thick mass of her skirt. “I won't lie. I justified it at the time—”
“Because your first husband had been such a cad and his family so awful to you, you needed another husband lined up for when you were out of mourning and could no longer take advantage of their generosity.”
She blanched at his words but didn't cower or let those tears that he could see glistening in her eyes fall. “That's true, but that's not all of it.”
“Not all of it?”
“No, there's more.”
“More?”