Chapter Two #2
That was one of the fears that haunted her in the dead of the night when she lay in her darkened bedroom and wondered, again, where everything had gone wrong.
“I hope so. If nothing else, our second anniversary is coming soon. Will he remember the date? Will it compel him to at least visit? I don’t know.
” A reconciliation seemed impossible at this point, and if he didn’t wish to continue the marriage, he needed to set her free.
“Either he wants to work out our issues, have a real union with me, or he’ll need to petition for a divorce.
I can’t live like this anymore.” Tears welled in her eyes.
“I’m wasting years, and I would like the opportunity to be a mother if I can.
That won’t happen with a man who won’t come ‘round to visit let alone bed me.”
“It’s a terrible position to find oneself in, from all angles,” Susan said with another shake of her head. “I hope things come out to your advantage.”
“So do I.” Yet the mourning would continue. “This penchant for hiding and running away, his mercurial moods, his silences, his darker proclivities…” She blew out a breath.
It’s been both exhausting and frightening. I want to help him, to be his wife, but he’s shut me out.”
“And you deserve some sort of closure regarding all of it.” Susan offered a half-smile. “Perhaps you’ll be able to talk with him this time. If you’re fortunate, he might make an appearance at the rout.”
“That is the hope.” She nodded, and her mood lightened a tiny bit.
“Meanwhile, there will be handsome men at the rout tonight. It’s being thrown by one of Thornton’s club mates, so there should be men with morally gray characters there as well.
Perhaps I’ll flirt with one of them. That should get under his skin.
” Oddly, she was drawn to that type of man to begin with.
The ones who didn’t follow the dictates of society, the ones who stared what was proper down and did what they wished regardless.
“Why did you not think of that before? Flirting with a club mate will no doubt be impossible for him to ignore.”
“Perhaps. Now come upstairs and help me choose a gown.”
Ball later that night
Banshire House
St. James Square
Mayfair, London
By the time the ball at the Duke of Darkemore’s home had been underway for two hours, Emma had already danced two sets, and one with an attractive man who called himself the Duke of Galahad?
Surely that couldn’t be his real title, for it sounded absurd, but if he was a member of Club Damnation, there were different rules for that sort of thing.
As Galahad guided her off the dance floor of the ballroom—for the home was a freestanding one and large enough to support a dedicated dancing space—he didn’t relinquish his hold on her hand.
“You are far too beautiful to spend the remainder of the evening alone, duchess.” In the candlelight, his blond hair glimmered, helped along by the touches of silver at his temples and running throughout that thick mane.
He put his lips to the shell of her ear.
“Why don’t we find a more private room in the house to talk?
Or conversely, we can get up to scandal if that is what you prefer. ”
“What a wicked man you are for the suggestion.” But she squeezed his gloved fingers, for he was handsome and perhaps a few years older than her two and thirty years.
A rush of heated lust went down her spine.
Could she truly go through with this, let a stranger seduce her?
Then she allowed a grin. The need to feel like a desired woman grew strong.
“However, I would be delighted.” Surely, gossip would go around the club that one of her husband’s friends had trysted with her.
“Excellent.” The same heat sailing through her veins made itself known in his golden-brown eyes, and he much resembled a lion. “I shall make an exit and then you can follow a few moments after. I’ll wait for you at the end of the corridor.”
“Very good.” Purely by coincidence, when Emma glanced around the crowded room, her gaze collided with the one man she’d hoped to find this night. A gasp escaped her throat. “Good heavens, he’s here.”
“Who?” The Duke of Galahad looked about.
“My husband. Estranged husband, that is.”
His eyes rounded. “Thornton is your husband? Hell, he’s married? I had no idea on both counts.” The shock on his face matched the same in his voice.
She tried to laugh, but it was a stifled sound from a tight throat. “Yes, well, it’s complicated.” At best. Her fingers tightened in his as she gawked at her husband.
“Oh, does that mean you’re interested in continuing this…?” One of his golden eyebrows rose in question.
Did she? “That depends. I’ll let you know after I speak with Thornton, but you’d best find something else to do. He doesn’t appear best pleased that I’m talking with you.” When had he become the jealous type?
Galahad cast a glance at the duke, who was rapidly bearing down on their location, even with the cane that he relied on. “If you’re frightened of him, I’ll protect you.”
Ah, gallant to a fault, and no doubt the reason he’d chosen Galahad as his title. “No thank you. I’ve been expecting this meeting. Finally, I’ll know if I’m to remain married or if he’ll set me free.”
“Either way, should you want company of any sort, I’ll remain around tonight for a bit.” Then he melted into the crowds surging toward the dance floor, for a waltz was forming.
Oh, dear. Propositioned by a man who wasn’t truly a duke. It was both alarming and somewhat flattering. Before she could ruminate further on it, Thornton was upon her. She stood facing him, and his expression was like an oncoming storm.
He was breathtaking in his anger! Unlike Galahad’s golden hair and Adonis-like figure, her husband’s blond hair was half-silver and half-gold.
It seemed the years apart hadn’t been kind to him.
Yet he was still possessed of a barrel chest, broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and muscled thighs set off to perfection in the black requisite evening attire.
Aside from the network of scars marring the left side of his face, lines framed the corners of his mouth and eyes.
Clearly, being alone in the country hadn’t given him peace and calm as she’d hoped.
The longer he stood looking at her without speaking, clutching a gloved hand around the rounded silver head of his cane, the more hot annoyance rose in her chest. How dare he treat her as if she didn’t exist or matter!
In lieu of greeting, Emma put her hands on her hips.
“It’s about time you’ve decided to pay me attention, Thornton. ”
“How could I not when you’re behaving like you’ve got no sense? Or worse, acting as a courtesan. Would you have gone off with Galahad of all men, then?” The low baritone of his anger-propelled whisper sent flutters of interest and need through her lower belly.
“Perhaps. He is quite attractive.” She shrugged, and was more than grateful she’d chosen a gown that featured a low bodice, for as his gaze briefly dropped to inspect her décolletage, she bit back the urge to grin.
“I wouldn’t have to resort to such things if you wouldn’t have neglected me or my needs.
Or if you’d let me come to you, to talk with you and help you through whatever it is you struggle with that is keeping you from me.
” Tears roiled in her voice, for no matter how angry she was with him in that moment, she had worried over him the past two years.
“I…” Emotions flitted through his expression, so fast she couldn’t settle on just one.
Then he pulled himself up to his full height of nearly six feet and kept his back ramrod straight, his blue eyes narrowed.
Those eyes that would change from sapphire to almost gray depending on the light and his moods.
They had always fascinated her. “It’s none of your concern. ”
She blew out a huff. “It is because we’re married.”
“Bah.” Even that he would dismiss. “A prison for us both, I think.” And his voice broke an imperceptible amount. Perhaps not evident to most people, but to her, because she knew him, she noticed.
Despite herself, Emma softened slightly.
“If you have changed your mind about that, about us, it’s perfectly acceptable.
We married quickly and there are now two years between us where we’ve been strangers.
” She swallowed around the ball of tears lodged in her throat.
“However, we are either married or we’re not, Cecil.
Let me be your wife or set me free. It’s that simple, but I’m done wasting my life waiting for you to remember me when you clearly have no intentions of doing that. ”
There. She’d finally spoken what was uppermost on her mind and to him. The next decision was his alone. Yet her limbs shook from the strength of her resolve and from not being quite prepared to see him again.
His jaw worked. A muscle ticced in his cheek. He lifted the tip of the cane off the floor but then set it back down. “I don’t know how to talk about what is happening with me,” he said in a low growl that did strange things to her insides.
How she wanted to brush the shock of hair from his forehead. How long had it been since he’d had a proper haircut? Not that she didn’t enjoy the slightly more rugged look of him around the edges. But she shrugged. “There are other ways of communicating.”
Silence sprang up between them as the waltz went underway. In those charged moments, he raked his gaze up and down her form. Did he admire the dark pink gown of silk brocade, the silver threads shot through the skirting, or how it set off her curves to advantage?
When she assumed he might ask her to dance with him, for there was no more captive audience than on a dance floor, he took her hand. Sensation streaked up to her elbow in a heated spark. “What are you doing?” Emma asked as her heartbeat accelerated.
There might have been a grin gathered about his lips, but then, she could have easily imagined it, for his expression hadn’t changed. “Communicating.”
Confusion cut through the unnerving responses to his touch, the sound of his voice, the warmth of his fingers on hers. “What? How?”
“Come with me.” There was the veriest pressure on her fingers as he would have led her away from the wall.
This was all happening so fast she didn’t have time to prepare for this meeting. Quickly, Emma tugged her hand from his. “I’m not going anywhere with you until you talk to me and give me an explanation of why you left me for almost two years.”
“Fine.” Instead of walking away from her as she fully expected, Thornton surprised her by catching her up, tossing her over his shoulder as if she were naught but a sack of rice, and then he stormed out of the room while relying on his cane, scattering guests and couples as he went.
God, what an image he must have made!
Thrills twisted down her spine while apprehension wound upward. “Put me down this instant, Thornton. What are you doing?” As she spoke, she beat on his back with a closed fist. Heat of embarrassment went through her cheeks as people stared while he moved along the corridors.
He turned his head slightly. “You want to create scandal to gain my attention? Well now you have it, and I’m damned tired of you trying to drag my title through the muck.”
“But I…” Her stomach muscles tightened. A tiny shiver raced through her lower belly. “You can’t…”
“I can and I will.”
Despite the fact Emma beat her hand on his back, he didn’t slow. Drat, but she’d forgotten how strong he was, how big he was, how commanding he was…
And he didn’t stop until he’d gone through the townhouse then outside to the rear garden. Good heavens, I think I’m in a bit of trouble.