Chapter 30
CHAPTER THIRTY
Sebastian knew the moment the door slammed behind Aurelia that something had gone terribly wrong. As she swept her way to his study with the grace of a typhoon, he poured himself a glass of Scotch and tossed it back—he would need it.
“Well?” he asked mildly as she burst through the door. “The charm offensive did not go as we hoped, I presume?”
“I must know something.” She came to stand before his desk, looking magnificent in her gown of deep garnet silk, diamond earrings dangling by her cheeks, and her face flushed with something dangerously close to irritation.
“And before you answer, please consider what you have to say extremely carefully.”
Sebastian’s heart immediately plummeted.
There were no more skeletons left in his past, but she had the expression of a woman who had been wronged. What had he done to so irk her?
“Very well,” he said slowly. “Ask away.” Feigning nonchalance, he leaned back in his chair, arms braced behind his head.
She drew herself up. “Did you or did you not marry me with the intention of siring children through me and sending me away again in disgrace?”
He dropped his arms. Tremor catapulted through him. As far as he was aware, he had spoken to no ladies about that aspect of his plan. In fact, he thought he had confided in no one in particular about it. Yet here she was, throwing the long-buried truth in his face.
Long-buried truths he had longer since questioned—that he was no longer sure he wanted to do, regardless of their combined reputation.
When he didn’t immediately speak, her nostrils flared. “So Lord Redwood was right?”
Sebastian stood so fast he almost knocked his chair back. “Redwood was there?”
“He attended in the stead of his aunt—who, I assure you, I had no idea had been invited. I gather it was rather a concession on Mary Ann’s part for her father’s sake. But that is not the point. He wanted to goad me, and he succeeded. But Sebastian, tell me it’s not true.”
He searched for the words to make her believe him, but came up empty. He could lie, but she would see right through it. They had been spending too much time in each other’s proximity for him to hide too much from her.
But beyond it all, she deserved the truth.
He pinched his nose. “Please, just take a seat, Aurelia.”
She stared at him, aghast. “Sebastian…”
“Sit down, and let me explain.”
“Explain how that slimy toad was right?!” She took a step back, toward the door. “If he was right, then what need have I for explanations?”
Fine. If she wouldn’t sit to listen, he would do his best to give his side of things before she left the room.
“I never wished to have another wife, Aurelia. Even when I married you. It was out of necessity—and you were made aware of this at the time. So yes, I intended to send you away once I had what I wanted from you, because I thought it would be best for us both. That way, I could go on living my life, and you could be—”
“The maligned wife?” she demanded, eyes glinting. No tears today—this Aurelia was angry and fearsome with it. “The source of gossip and pity for the rest of my days?”
“Plenty of husbands and wives live separately,” he said impatiently.
“And with my reputation, I thought it would be a relief not to have to share a life with me. I found distant family members of yours, and I thought you could live with them. Before—when I was still considering this as an option—I thought that would make you the happiest.”
She made a choked sound of outrage. “You investigated my family behind my back?”
“Did you think I would have you live alone?”
“I know of no family members—you would have been sending me to live with strangers! What on earth made you think that was a preferable option?”
He clenched his fists so hard his nails bit skin. “Because the world has condemned me as a murderer!”
“And I made it plain that I never did.” She raised her chin, facing him suddenly with such quiet calm.
This was a different type of woman from the one who had first come to his house.
Then, she had not been a duchess—but she had become one now, both in authority and bearing.
“So you intend to throw me away with that as an excuse?”
“—No, Aurelia.” His jaw snapped together with frustration. “It has been some time since I seriously considered that as an option.” He circled the escritoire and took hold of her arm so she couldn’t storm away from him before he finished saying what he had to get off his chest.
“Yes, I confess to that being my intention when we first married, but that has changed. I no longer want to send you away—I discovered you have family members in Manchester, but I have not written to them to inform them about your existence and your good fortune.”
She snorted. “Good fortune?”
“Regardless of your feelings about my original intent, I am a duke, and by the title’s very nature, I have elevated you.”
The moment the words left his mouth, and he saw her face as they registered, he knew he had made a fatal mistake.
She wrenched her arm free from his. “I see. So I should be grateful, then. For all you’ve done for me.
For how you intended to use me as a breeding mare and then toss me aside when I had served your almighty purpose. ”
Sebastian pinched his nose. The servants were probably listening to every word, and although he trusted them, he disliked how this was making him look. More than anything, he wished he could reach back into time and prevent her from going to this ludicrous dinner in the first place.
Redwood would pay for this, one way or another.
“You are blowing this out of proportion, darling,” he assuaged. “Yes, I had those intentions once, but they have changed. There is no reason to be so upset—that was before I knew you.”
Her eyes flashed as she crossed her arms. “Oh, so planning to send your wife away and have your child live without their parent is nothing to you?”
“It is certainly not something worth holding a grudge over.” He closed the distance between them, despising that Redwood had planted this poison when everything had been fine. When they’d been fine. “I don’t want you to go. Do you understand me? I want you to stay.”
Hurt glittered in her eyes. “You say that now, when I have pleased you—but what of when I displease you? I ought to have known you did not take our marriage vows seriously when you neglected to so much as turn up to our wedding. You sent Mr. Arnold as a proxy in your place!
“If that were not insult enough, all of London knows I am only here with you as long as you deem it necessary. I am a laughingstock, Sebastian! It is no wonder no one took me seriously. What do you want to happen now? For me to forget about it and move on?”
There was this awful pain in his chest that fractured wider with her every word.
“No—” he pressed, and his voice grated with the effort of it.
“I never intended to make you a laughingstock, Aurelia. I even attended that damn recital for your sake, because I wanted to see you happy. Do you think I did such a thing lightly? Before you came along, I was content to live in this blasted salt-exhumed house and never aspire to anything more!”
The words scraped his throat raw, urgency clawing at his chest, but she was looking at him like he disgusted her.
Like he was exactly the cold, unfeeling bastard everyone believed him to be.
“Yes, I intended not to live as husband and wife when I was a stranger—but given the circumstances, is that so surprising? Are you telling me that before you arrived, you had no doubts about whether we would do well together?”
“That’s not the point!”
“Then what is? Did you expect me to agree to sharing a life with a stranger?”
“Is that all you think this is about? I can’t do this anymore.” She leaned against the wall, as though her legs had given way from under her. “All this time, I thought we were building something. Making a life for ourselves. For our future family. Confronting the rumors and proving them wrong.
“But all the while, you knew that you never had any intention of keeping me, or our family here! How am I to know that you will not change your mind about having me live here with you if you tire of me? Or if the rumors grow too steep for you to ignore?”
What could he say? That he wouldn’t? He meant it, but why would she believe him?
He stared at her, feeling more helpless than ever. “Tell me what to say, Aurelia.”
“How can I?”
How had everything gone so wrong so quickly?
“It is not who I am anymore,” he managed, hearing the defensiveness in his voice but feeling unable to stop it.
And feeling less able to believe it. “You are blowing the entire situation out of proportion. So I never intended to live with you before I knew you. Having met you, I changed my mind. What is so very wrong about that? Why do you see it as a reflection of my poor character rather than the inevitable choice of a recluse?”
“Because you refuse to see it the way I felt it!” she snapped as she reached the door. He felt as though she took an indefinable, precious part of him with her as she went. “Oh, and I will be sleeping in my own rooms tonight, Sebastian. Just as you intended for me. Don’t disturb me, please.”
To her bitter relief, Sebastian made no attempt to disturb her or join her, true to her words. She lay awake, listening to him finally making his way upstairs and to bed around midnight.
She felt numb.
Sleep eluded her for large parts of the following night, and when she rose the next morning, ringing for Jane, she knew she could not stay in the house any longer. If Sebastian wanted her gone—had ever wanted her gone—then she would grant him his wish.
Her hand came to her stomach. Was she with child? Impossible to know yet; her last bleeds had been several weeks ago, and she’d lain with Sebastian since then.