Chapter 30
The weeks passed in a surprisingly calm manner.
Bridget accompanied Lewis on his daily trips to visit his grandmother, and despite the odd tremor or anxious, darting look, the Dowager Duchess seemed to do well enough with the inclusion of Bridget in her life.
Bridget, too, became increasingly comfortable with his grandmother.
She practically sparkled, her eyes always bright and her voice pitched with delight when she spoke to his grandmother.
He should have been delighted, but Lewis found himself uneasy with this new development.
Lewis could not decide precisely why it all made him feel as though there was a great hole in his chest, aching and ugly, but it did.
Bridget was not supposed to meet his grandmother for some time, but she had forced her way into the woman’s life. Worse, things had not gone badly.
It made no sense.
“Oh! I love the flowers,” Bridget said. “And the vase is quite tasteful!”
Lewis, who had been lost in thought, snapped his head in his wife’s direction. “Flowers?”
While she and his grandmother had spoken to one another, as if they were old friends, he had completely lost the thread of the conversation.
“Yes,” Bridget said. “Evelyn has placed a new vase of flowers in the room. I had suggested it during our last visit.”
His grandmother and Bridget were already using one another’s Christian names. Lewis glanced at the vase, which he realized had not been there on previous visits. His eyes snapped to his grandmother who beamed at Bridget.
“Yes,” she said. “I do like them. They add some cheer to the room.”
Bridget nodded vigorously. “Would you consider having a small garden inside the townhouse? It occurs to me that you do well with small, steady changes. Plants change at a slow and steady pace, so perhaps a garden would help your delicate nerves.”
“A thoughtful solution.”
“Do you expect her to garden?” Lewis asked.
“Why not?” his grandmother asked. “If it helps me…”
“And I can assist you with it,” Bridget continued. “I am quite good at decorating. We can decide on what to change, little by little.”
“You sound as though you intend on spending more time here,” Lewis said. “Our visits are only an hour or so. You cannot possibly accomplish all that in such a short time.”
“And?” Bridget shrugged. “I do not mind visiting Evelyn more frequently, as long as she is not vexed by me.”
“I will not be,” his grandmother said. “I have become quite accustomed to your presence over the short period of time that we have known one another.”
Lewis frowned. His grandmother had never been so comfortable with a new person entering her life. Bridget had just swooped in and was making changes, and his grandmother seemed to humor them well enough.
Lewis cleared his throat. “Speaking of visits, we have usually left by now.”
“Oh, yes,” his grandmother said. “Bridget, we shall have to talk more when I see you next.”
“Certainly,” Bridget said, rising.
Neither woman seemed to realize that the routine had changed. Lewis stared at his grandmother, waiting for her to panic, but she did not. Instead, she rose and offered Bridget a heartfelt embrace.
“It is so good to see the both of you,” his grandmother said.
“The pleasure is all ours,” Bridget responded.
“Indeed,” Lewis agreed.
He owed his wife so many rewards for making his grandmother happy. For healing her. And how had Bridget even accomplished that? The woman was evidently capable of performing miracles.
Or was she? A tremor of doubt swept over him. What if this seeming good behavior was another one of Bridget’s schemes? Lewis clenched his jaw. He would never forgive Bridget if she manipulated his fragile grandmother to some selfish end.
As they entered the carriage, Lewis gave his wife a long, searching look. Her guileless face revealed nothing amiss, but he knew that she was capable of crafting truly impressive schemes.
“You did not seem particularly happy at the thought of me staying longer and speaking to Evelyn,” Bridget said.
Lewis inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring. “What gave you that impression?”
“Your tone.”
The carriage jolted into motion, and Bridget’s green eyes narrowed. “Why are you unhappy?”
Did he really not trust her around his grandmother? While Bridget had proven herself to be selfish on several occasions, she had not yet done anything to harm another person. It would be unprecedented for her to involve his grandmother.
“I know I am right,” she continued. “If I was wrong, you would have protested.”
“You could run away.”
She blinked. “Run away?”
“Yes,” he said. “Or—or you might use my grandmother.”
Bridget’s eyes widened, and her lips parted. For a heartbeat, she looked utterly appalled. Then, her face reddened with poorly concealed anger. “Why would I ever use your grandmother?”
“To humiliate me,” he said through clenched teeth. “To prove something about my character, some flaw, so you can embarrass me before the ton or have our marriage annulled.”
“I see.” Bridget’s voice was frigid. “I did not realize that you thought so poorly of me. Tell me. How long do you imagine I have been concocting this detestable scheme?”
Is she upset because I think poorly of her or because I have realized her deception? Lewis wondered.
Bridget’s hands curled into fists. “How can you even suggest that I would manipulate your grandmother like that?”
He watched her face carefully before answering. “Let us consider this objectively. I told you that my grandmother was in poor health and asked that you not speak to her until she was ready, and you disobeyed me.”
“And you admitted that I did not have all the facts needed to understand her condition!” Bridget snapped.
“Because I did not trust you.”
“You still do not trust me!”
Lewis grimaced, an ugly knot of guilt twisting in his chest. She was entirely right.
“It is not that I distrust you,” Lewis said.
“It clearly is.”
Lewis took a steadying breath. “Fine. I doubted your motivations, but you must understand that my grandmother is my only surviving relative.”
“I know.”
“She is one of the most important people in my life. It is my duty to protect her, and I must ensure that she is safe.”
“She is. From me,” Bridget retorted. “She likes me, and her condition has improved since meeting me. Any reasonable person, anyone who wants to protect the Dowager Duchess, would believe those are good things! I cannot please you, no matter what I do!”
Did she truly believe that about him?
“That is untrue,” Lewis said. “You have pleased me. I just want to be certain that you have no malicious intentions towards my grandmother.”
“I do not. I doubt that you believe me, though.”
Bridget’s face was flushed with fury. Her eyes gleamed with such intensity that Lewis was left nearly breathless.
His eyes dipped down to her chest, which rose and fell more quickly than it usually did.
Lewis was reminded of an avenging angel, of a woman who had been wronged and was determined to have vengeance for herself.
She was beautiful like that, as strong as iron.
“I do believe you,” he said, his voice raw.
She snorted hotly and crossed her arms over her chest.
“You can believe me now,” Lewis said. “I should not have doubted you.”
“No,” Bridget said.
Her anger did not abate, and though he knew that it was irrational, Lewis found that his desire for her grew stronger with every passing second.
Lewis sighed. “I made an error in judgment.”
“Yes,” she said. “Now, you can deal with the consequences of that error in judgment. I am furious.”
Lewis clenched his jaw. She was right to be angry with him, as loathe as he was to admit it.
Worse, he could not bring himself to care about her fury as much as he ought to.
She was beautiful, glorious, and he wanted nothing more than to take her into his bed chamber and consummate their marriage at last.
He had spent so long promising to reward a proper duchess, but this angry woman, this defiant woman, was far more appealing than the dutiful, compliant one ever had been.
“I can tell,” he said. “A duchess should manage her anger more gracefully.”
Her face hardened with indignation. “And now, you have the audacity to criticize my behavior? A husband ought to trust his wife!”
Lewis’s blood ran hot, as he gazed at her. His desire to assuage the guilt blooming in his chest warred with his want to see her even angrier, lost in the throes of her righteous fury.
“Perhaps the wife should be less conniving!”
That was true, admittedly.
Bridget inhaled sharply. “No,” she said. “You do not get to make this my fault somehow. You made the error by not trusting me! I am only trying to be a good granddaughter-in-law.”
“And you never once thought about using my grandmother to ruin me?”
Bridget had not been moving at all, but she somehow seemed to grow still before him. “No.”
Lewis leaned forward until his knees touched hers. Bridget’s jaw clenched, but she did not pull away from him.
“You did,” Lewis said. “I can tell from your face. What did you plan?”
Bridget looked askance. “Nothing.”
“No?” he asked. “You cannot fault me for distrusting you when you will not even admit to your own wrongdoing.”
“I thought you were being cruel to her,” Bridget said. “I wanted to know the truth.”
“For entirely selfless reasons, I am certain.”
Bridget wrinkled her nose. Her face was still flushed with color, but some of the anger in her eyes seemed to abate.
“Fine. My motivations were not entirely selfless. If you were abusing the Dowager Duchess, I intended to tell the ton of your misdeeds with the aim of ruining your reputation, if not justifying an annulment.”
Lewis sucked in a sharp breath. Perhaps he ought to be offended by that, but—
But how could he blame her? Bridget had made it abundantly clear that she bore him no real affection. She married him only because she had no other options.
With a start, Lewis realized that she was rather like himself. After rescuing her from the lake, he had decided at once to marry her out of convenience. He was as cunning as she was.
“We are quite alike. Both dishonest and sly and…” He trailed off. “Seeking every advantage that we can, scrambling for control in a world that refuses to be put into neat order.”
“Yes.” Bridget’s body remained tense. “Yes, I suppose we are.”
The carriage came to an abrupt stop, and they stared at one another. Although his wife’s face was no longer angry, Lewis found himself unable to interpret the exact expression on her face.
After a heartbeat, she laughed. “I have deceived you, and you have deceived me. What happens next?”
“Maybe we make amends,” he said.
“I suppose you want me to apologize,” Bridget said.
“Not necessarily.” Lewis’s heart pounded so violently that his chest ached. “I was thinking of another manner of reconciliation.”
“Oh?” Bridget asked.
“How do you feel about Shakespeare?”
“The man who has written more extensively about love than any other playwright in the British Isles?” Bridget asked, letting out a little lovelorn sigh.
Lewis grinned. “Why don’t we go to the theater?”