Despised & Desired--The Marquess' Passionate Wife (#3 Love's Second Chance Series)

by Bree Wolf

  Confused, Frederick stared at his friend. “Because I injured my shoulder? Because I was thrown off a horse?” He shook his head. “I’m afraid I do not understand.”

  “Do you truly not see what is going on here?” Oliver asked, rising from the chair. His features tensed as he searched for the right words to explain himself. “First, your father, then your brother, and now you almost died, too. Does that not worry you? It’s almost as though a curse was put on your family.”

  Frederick laughed. It had been a long time since he had heard anything so ludicrous. “My dear friend, you appear to have lost your mind,” he jested. “I merely fell off a horse. I did not even come close to dying, believe me.”

  “You could have broken your neck,” Oliver objected. “And besides, do you even remember the last time you fell off a horse? Do you not wonder why your saddle girth snapped to begin with? Has your saddle not always served you well? It has carried you around the world and back, and now it simply snaps?”

  Frederick shrugged, wondering what had caused Oliver’s worry. “Sometimes leather be-comes brittle and snaps. These things happen.”

  “Have you spoken to your stable master?” Oliver insisted. “Did you ask him why he did not replace the girth if it was indeed brittle?”

  Frowning, Frederick stared at his friend. He could honestly say that that thought had never occurred to him. “What do you want, Oliver? Did you only come here today to warn me about some ominous curse? I never knew you believed in such superstitions.”

  Rubbing his hands over his face, Oliver sighed. “I don’t know. I suppose…I came here be-cause I was worried. After losing Kenneth, I cannot imagine losing you, too.”

  “I understand,” Frederick said. “But I am fine. I assure you, I am.” Seeing the slight shadows under Oliver’s eyes, Frederick wondered what demons haunted his friend. Did he feel the same guilt for staying home and not accompanying them that Frederick did for not having been able to save Kenneth? Was everyone’s life ruled by guilt in one form or another?

  “Will you, at least, promise me to be careful?” Oliver asked, his eyes clouded with concern he could not seem to shake.

  “I promise,” Frederick said although he had no idea how to fulfil that promise. In what way ought he to be careful? And when? All the time. Lying in bed? Sitting down for supper? He could not be more careful than he already was. His friend’s worry simply stemmed from an overly creative imagination.

  “Good.” Oliver nodded, and reaching for his glass, he took another sip. “Thank you.” He cleared his throat and put on a happier face. “Well then, tell me about your wife?”

  Frederick cringed.

  Oliver stepped toward him. “My concern for your life is not the only reason I came,” he said. “I am also still concerned for your well-being, your state of mind.” He shook his head, and a slight chuckle escaped his lips. “Considering all the concerns that plague me, I am surprised that my hair hasn’t gone white yet.”

  Anxious laughter slipped from Frederick’s lips. “As I told you, your concerns are unfounded. I assure you that everything is fine. There,” he said, forcing a smile on his face, “you should be able to sleep well tonight. How long are you planning on staying?”

  A wicked grin spread over Oliver’s face as his eyes calmly rested on Frederick. Gone was his agitation and the slight shadows under his eyes seemed to have retreated. “Are you so determined to rid yourself of me?” he asked, his keen eyes watching Frederick closely. “Are you displeased with what I have to say or with the questions I ask?”

  Frowning, Frederick shook his head. Stalking to the other side of the room, he took his time refilling his own glass. “Do not be absurd. I merely asked to have the guest room prepared should you decide to stay.” Willing his features to relax, he turned and met his friend’s scrutinising eyes. “You know you are always welcome here.”

  “Why can you not talk about her?” Oliver asked. Like a predator stalking its prey, he began to move forward, slowly approaching his friend before stopping in his tracks, only to move closer a moment later. “Even if your mother chose her for you, you have been married to her for a couple of months now.”

  Frederick swallowed, knowing only too well how persistent Oliver could be. “What is your point?”

  Shaking his head, Oliver sighed in exasperation. “Rick, she is your wife. Your wife! I simply want to understand why you never speak about her. You never even mention her. It’s as though she does not exist. At least, not to you. Is being married to her so awful?”

  “What?” Frederick’s eyes snapped up as his heart thudded in his chest. Oliver’s words were like a stab to the heart, and Frederick stared at him in surprise.

  ***

  After bidding her friend goodbye, Ellie walked back through the front hall and toward the back parlour where she knew Theresa and Maryann would be sitting with their embroidery. As she walked down the corridor, distant voices drifted to her ears, and she stopped, straining to listen.

  Her husband’s voice she recognised instantly and, therefore, presumed the other one to be-long to his friend Oliver Cornell. Unable to make out their words, Ellie proceeded down the hall until the door to Frederick’s study came into sight.

  It stood slightly ajar, the voices drifting out into the hallway beckoning her closer.

  Ellie hesitated, knowing that it was wrong to listen to their private conversation. Her heart, however, longed to know what was spoken between the two men.

  Frederick was a guarded man, who rarely shared his innermost thoughts and desires with anyone else. A few nights ago, he had finally allowed her a glimpse of the man he was underneath duty and responsibility, and Ellie’s heart had instantly recognised him as a kindred soul.

  The guilt that plagued him, the doubts he could not shake echoed within herself as well. Never before had she spoken to another the way she had bared her soul to him, revealing her own fears, her own weaknesses and failings. Speaking to him in the dark had been liberating indeed. She had felt her heart beat with a strength and joy she had not known before. Her limbs had felt lighter as though relieved of a heavy burden, and her soul had soared into the night sky, dancing among the stars and welcoming the new freedom she had finally found.

  What scared her most was the thought of losing that connection to him again. In quiet moments, she wondered what she would do if he went back to the indifferent politeness that had been between them since the day of their wedding. Deep down, she knew she could not live with such loss. She’d prefer he scream and yell at her. At least then, he would communicate his feelings, allow her to be a part of his life, instead of live side by side with him without them sharing anything about themselves.

  But how was she to keep him from withdrawing from her again? Although she knew more about his inner self today than she had a week ago, many questions still remained unanswered.

  Ellie glanced at the door up ahead, and as though of their own accord, her feet proceeded down the hall. With each step the voices grew louder, and her ears were able to discern individual words. But Ellie wanted more.

  She swallowed, then stepped up to the door standing slightly ajar. Peeking through the gap, she could not see either one of the two men. However, every sound now travelled to her ear unhindered, and a shiver went down her back at her husband’s voice. “What is your point?” he asked, a hint of apprehension clouding his words. Where they arguing? Ellie wondered.

  Footsteps echoed on the parquet floor. Then Oliver spoke, his voice filled with agitation barely held in check. “Rick, she is your wife. Your wife!” Ellie froze, all breath knocked from her lungs. “I simply want to understand why you never speak about her. You never even mention her. It’s as though she does not exist. At least, not to you.” Ellie’s heart grew heavy, and she felt the cool touch of tears as they clung to her eyelashes. Her head sank, and she turned to walk away. “Is being married to her so awful?”

  “What?” Frederick’s voice sliced the heavy silence like a wh
ip, and Ellie’s head spun back around.

  After Oliver’s words had clawed at her heart, the honest ring of consternation in the single syllable that left her husband’s lips was like a healing balm, gently easing the pain.

  Returning to the door, she stood quietly, her ears begging him for more.

  A slight chuckle echoed through the room before Oliver spoke again. “What are you afraid of, Rick? That you actually might have come to care for her?” Ellie’s heart sped up as excitement began to bubble in her veins. “I’ve seen the way you looked at her today. You do care for her, do you not?”

  Ellie held her breath.

  Frederick cleared his throat. Oh, how she wished she could see his face! “She is a wonderful woman, yes,” he said, and his voice sounded strained. “However, I do not understand what concern she is to you.”

  “You are of concern to me,” Oliver snapped, sounding exhausted with his friend’s inability to answer his questions satisfactorily. “I can see that you care about her, so do not deny it. However, I don’t understand why you look so glum if you have actually come to love the woman you’re married to.”

  The word love echoed in Ellie’s ears, and a myriad of butterflies took flight in her belly. Dancing on her toes, she fought to keep quiet lest she draw their attention and lose every opportunity of learning her husband’s true feelings.

  Frederick sighed. “Oliver, this is a personal matter. I−”

  “I am your friend, Rick.” The sound of footsteps reached Ellie’s ears, and when Oliver spoke again, his voice echoed over from Frederick’s corner of the room. “Look at me. Do you even hear what I’m saying? I am your friend. I have always been your friend. All the things we have been through together, and now, you cannot talk to me about this?” Oliver drew in a laboured breath, which spoke volumes of the exhaustion and disappointment he felt at his friend’s stubborn insistence. “Please, Rick. Talk to me.”

  “It is not that I do not wish to answer your questions,” Frederick said, exhaustion ringing in his voice as well. “I simply do not know what to tell you.”

  “All right. Then just answer my questions. I don’t need elaborate explanations, just the simple truth.” A moment of silence hung about the room, and Ellie was afraid that Frederick would deny his friend’s request. Then heaving a sigh of relief, Oliver whispered, “Thank you.”

  Ellie frowned. Had her husband indicated his acquiescence?

  “Do you care about her?” her husband’s friend asked yet again.

  Frederick drew in a deep breath as though in need of courage. “I do, yes.” Ellie’s heart soared into the sky, and the corners of her mouth curled up in a way they had not in a long time. Breathing heavily, she tried to calm herself.

  “Do you love her?”

  Instantly, she froze.

  “I don’t know if I can,” her husband admitted, and a pang of disappointment washed over Ellie’s heart. Listening to him was like walking a tightrope. Any second she could lose her balance and plummet to her death.

  “Why?” Oliver asked. “Is it her scars? Do you not find her attractive?”

  This was it, Ellie thought, and for a moment, time stood still. If she would ever get an honest answer to this all-consuming question, then it was now. Frederick had no reason to lie to his friend or to want to cushion the blow. He did not need to protect Oliver’s feelings. He could be brutally honest.

  Ellie only hoped that her own fragile heart would survive the truth she had longed to learn for months. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and her hands curled into fists at her sides.

  “No,” Frederick said, and Ellie held her breath.

  No to what? Did he not mind her scars? Or did he not find her attractive? Straining to listen, her fingernails dug into her palms.

  “I do not mind her scars.” Ellie almost sagged to the floor as relief washed over her. “Her scars are a part of who she is. Without her own, she would not be…she would not be the only one who seems to understand mine.”

  A smile vibrated in Oliver’s voice. “You sound like you admire her.”

  “I do.” Frederick sighed. “Life made her walk through hell, and yet,” he hesitated, and Ellie’s nerves almost snapped, “and yet, she seems untouched. After everything that she went through, she managed to find her way back into life. A part of me wishes I knew how she did it while another believes I have no right to it.”

  “Did you speak to her about Kenneth?”

  A short laugh touched Frederick’s lips. “She made me. She wouldn’t leave. I…” He paused, and once again, Ellie wished she could see his face. “She knows that war is about dying, about loss and pain. She knows it to be a tragedy, and she never once spoke of heroes or glory. Everyone else does, but not her.”

  “Then speak to her,” Oliver went on. “If she is the one who understands you, talk to her.”

  “I don’t know if I can.”

  “Why not? You sound like you care for her deeply. Sharing your past with her will only help you grow closer. Or are you afraid she will think badly of you?”

  “I don’t think she would,” Frederick replied, and Ellie rejoiced at the trust he had in her. “But I am not sure I should involve her in this. She has been through so much. I do not want to see her hurt again.”

  “What hurts her is the distance you force between the two of you,” Oliver snapped, his patience slowly running out.

  “How would you know that?”

  “Because she looks at you the same way you look at her,” Oliver stated, and for a long time, Frederick remained silent. “She cares about you, and I think she would want you to share your thoughts with her. Have you ever talked to her about this?”

  “I wouldn’t know what to say. Ever since returning from the continent, I feel incapable of speaking to others about anything beyond the importance of daily trifles.”

  “Except for her,” Oliver objected. “You said you’ve spoken to her about Kenneth. Don’t you think she would like to learn a bit more about you? What are you afraid of?”

  “Afraid?”

  “Yes, afraid,” Oliver insisted. “I cannot shake the feeling that you’re running away from something. As much as you care about her, there is something you’re not telling me. You said you don’t mind her scars, but do you find her attractive? I know I might be overstepping here, but have you shared her bed?”

  Ellie swallowed, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks.

  “That is none of your business,” Frederick growled, his footsteps echoing through the room as he walked toward the window.

  Oliver followed him. “Is she with child yet?”

  Frederick whirled around. “Maybe you should leave!”

  “Throw me out of your house if you want, but I will not allow you to return to that war,” Oliver said, his voice heavy with determination. “I remember well our conversation from the night of the Midnight Ball. I know that you feel once you’ve done your duty and provided for your family, you are free to get yourself killed.” Ellie’s blood froze in her veins. “I have already lost one friend to that ridiculous cause, I will be damned if I lose another. I swear, I will do everything within my power to stop you. Do you hear!”

  Frederick remained silent as unspoken words hung heavy about the room. Frozen to the spot, Ellie saw her husband before her mind’s eye as he stood silent like a column, his eyes narrowed, staring at his friend as though he were the enemy.

  “If you do not answer me, then I will simply have to speak to your wife!” Oliver threatened, his voice as cold as ice.

  Ellie clearly understood what his friend’s threat would mean for Frederick, a betrayal of the worst kind. Oliver had to be quite desperate to go to such length. Merely thinking about it made Ellie’s skin crawl.

  “You will do no such thing,” Frederick growled, measured steps taking him closer to the door. “I think it best if you left now. I do not wish to detain you any longer. Return to your own family and meddle in their affairs.”

  O
liver scoffed. “You are my family, you mule-headed idiot! I only hope that your wife can find a way through that thick skull of yours. If not, I swear I will knock you out and lock you up before I let you do anything stupid. I’d rather you are furious with me than dead.”

  Closing her eyes, Ellie stepped back from the door. More had been revealed than she had hoped for. Holding her breath, she turned away and walked back the way she had come. Crossing the front hall, she slipped out the side door and hurried into the gardens.

  The green oasis welcomed her: its sweet scents easing her heavy heart and confused mind, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

  Long strides carried her across the lawn and toward the water fountain. Its soft babbling sounds as it rose into the air and cascaded down into itself soothed her nerves. Exhausted, she sank onto the bench under the large oak tree. The sun had long since begun its descent and merely shone as a red disk in the darkening sky.

  Oliver’s voice echoed in her mind. Was Frederick truly planning to return to the war and allow himself to be killed? Was his pain that great? His guilt? Did he truly have nothing worth living for?

  A painful stab in the heart drew a sob from her throat, and Ellie buried her face in her hands.

  Despite everything that had happened, despite the many losses, Frederick still had a family who loved him. Only his own heart had closed to the meaning of that love. Even if his mind knew it to be true, his heart told him that such love was of no consequence. And even if he doubted his heart, ultimately, it would be his guilt that would convince him that he did not deserve it no matter what he did. He could not win.

  Considering everything she had heard, Ellie understood Oliver’s fears and knew them to be justified. If Frederick was allowed to follow his own course, it would lead to his destruction.

  Her hands began to tremble, and a cold chill ran down her body making her shiver as Oliver’s words echoed in her mind once more. I only hope that your wife can find a way through that thick skull of yours.

  Oliver put all his hopes in her. If she couldn’t convince Frederick that life was worth living after all, then no one could. Just like Theresa, he put his faith in her, hoping that she could save Frederick’s life.