Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Several hours later, Nash was still deeply troubled that Laura could speak so dismissively of their marriage. No, it had not been perfect. He’d had so many demands on his time back then. But to hear her claim the hours they’d spent together at night amounted to next to nothing was ridiculous. That was an insult to his honor and the existence of their offspring.
Laura had told him she wanted a dozen children, and he’d made sure that she’d been well cared for, able to bring their first two children to term as easily as possible. He’d watched over her carefully, and when it quickly became apparent he could not be with her every moment of the day, he’d assigned staff to that role.
He trudged up the steep stairs to the nursery after waiting enough time for their tempers to cool again. He would not be dismissed by her so easily. He could not avoid Laura.
He had nothing else to do anymore, too. The duke had taken all his favorite books away and did not require him anymore.
When Laura had reached the door to the nursery, she’d disappeared inside without a backward glance, leaving him seething inside. He’d had every right to follow, but suspected he’d reach the doorway just as it was slammed in his face. He could hardly barge inside and glare at Laura or continue their argument with the children as an audience. Mother and Father had done that all the time. His boys were old enough to understand what they said to each other in anger, just as Nash had when watching his parents at each other’s throats.
She was impossible, his wife, but damn it all…he had done his best.
He took a deep breath and entered the nursery, surveying the room.
Thomas wasn’t at his desk, and Liam was lingering by the window playing with a toy soldier. He fought down his irritation at their lack of attention to their studies.
Yet when the boys saw him, they both rushed to sit at their desks and begin their lessons.
Laura was seated on the floor, on a rug near an old wooden rocking chair, where she’d put Isabelle down to play with a rag doll.
She glanced at Nash, and then at their eldest son. “Thomas, will you come and show me your work from earlier today?”
“Yes, Mama,” he said dutifully, climbing to his feet and walking slowly over to her.
She smiled at the boy, and Nash’s heart skipped a beat. Laura’s smile had often turned him speechless during the early days of their marriage. When she smiled, the world always seemed a little brighter…but more complicated, because Father would notice and recall him to order, taking him away from her. After a time, Laura smiling at anyone had become far less frequent.
She continued to smile softly at their son as he fidgeted before her. She glanced at the book but did not demand to see it immediately. “Tell me what you have there?”
“It’s my penmanship book.” Thomas held the book closed against his chest. “Miss Sophie wished me to write about the estate, so I wrote about the stables and horses and I drew a picture, too. It’s not finished yet.”
“I’d love to see it,” she promised, and Thomas reluctantly handed over his work.
Laura admired his childish drawing and traced the words he’d scratched out with her finger. The glitter of her gold wedding band on her left hand caught his eye and his breath caught.
“But this is wonderful, Thomas. You’ve done so well describing everything.”
A relieved smile appeared on the boy’s lips, and he glanced at Nash nervously before he hurried back to his little desk and bent his head over his papers again.
Nash studied only Laura. When he’d first seen her on the lawn two days ago, she’d been wearing gloves. She had been wearing them when she’d asked for a divorce, too, and earlier this morning as well. But now the gloves were gone, revealing that she hadn’t forgotten she was a married woman entirely.
He clasped his hands behind his back, hiding his own bare finger, but very puzzled by her. The first thing he’d done when he’d given up on her and their marriage was to have the too-tight ring cut off his finger.
It was right before he’d attended that masquerade and made love to her, instead of the stranger he’d assumed her to be.
Liam rushed over to Laura next. “Do you want to see my work, too?”
“Of course I do. I want to see everything you want to show me.”
Liam did his best to explain his drawing, but it was clear from his description that it was hardly sensible. Still, Laura heaped praise on him, too, ruffled his hair and asked him questions about his life and his favorite animals, which were every animal on the estate.
“I must take you riding one day soon,” she suggested.
Liam’s eyes lit up. “Do you have other horses?”
Thomas lifted his head from his work suddenly. “Are you going away to take care of them?”
Nash tensed as Laura’s expression froze for a moment. But then she laughed softly. “I have one horse, but it is not really mine.”
Liam gaped. “Who gave it to you?”
Laura ruffled his hair again. “It’s not important.”
“Do you have to give it back?”
“Yes, soon.”
Thomas scowled. “So, you are leaving us?”
“I don’t want to leave you, but…”
Thomas turned his back on his mother. “But you will.”
“I missed you all so much,” she promised, glancing toward Nash and frowning. “When you’re older, you’ll come to understand that some things are out of our control.”
Thomas shook his head, and he started to write again in his book. But after a moment, he glanced at her. “When Papa goes away, he writes to our governess,” he snapped.
Nash winced. “Sometimes my letters have gone astray.”
“I’m sure your papa hates being away from you,” she said. “But the duke needs him very much. He must miss you both as much as I did.”
“More,” he told Thomas firmly. “And I came back with presents for you both this time.”
Liam spun to face him, full of excitement. “Can I have mine now?”
He glanced at his sons, knowing he had deliberately turned the focus from Laura and her abandonment of their children. The boys were too young to understand the problems of their marriage. It was best they not pester Laura about why she’d gone or would leave again.
Laura lowered her head slightly. “Liam, you should not make demands of your father. He will have to go back to the duke soon.”
Nash had hours to spare to be with his children now, and with a wife who didn’t want him around.
“I will give them to you later. After supper, perhaps,” he said, even as he lowered himself to sit propped up by the wall near the door, one knee raised to lean his arm upon.
He could immediately tell his wife was surprised that he didn’t rush the boys away and leave her on her own with Isabelle. She had been very clear about how little she expected from him.
Laura had formed such a low opinion of him over the years, but he smiled knowing that he could prove her wrong today, and perhaps unsettle her, too.
She stared at him for a long time, and then a blush slowly grew on her cheeks. His wife glanced away first, and Nash smiled as her blush continued to color her cheeks.
He had provoked that blush somehow, but he did not know what exactly it had been in response to this time. In the past, that blush had appeared every morning after they’d made love. Was she remembering the happy side of their marriage at last, a side she claimed she did not want from him anymore?
He winced though as Isabelle crawled around the floor near her, exploring her new world and every toy she could put her hands on, which went straight into her mouth the next moment.
Nash had not known Isabelle existed, and he was still struggling to accept that. Her arrival had knocked the wind out of him completely, but he wasn’t about to let her out of his sight. He’d little experience with their natures at this age, having left the boys to Laura and the nursemaids to care for them both.
He remained as he was on the floor against the wall, watching the boys attend their studies with a determination that made him so proud, even when Isabelle crawled under the desk and slapped her chubby hands against their legs.
Nash pondered what he could do about Laura and Isabelle. They were going to be living under the same roof for the next month, inhabiting the nursery for all that time. And it was his last chance to speak with Laura honestly before he could never do so again.
Isabelle crawled over to him next, talking to herself in words he could not understand. Her touch on his leg had him looking down into the remarkably pretty eyes of his infant daughter. Eyes that reminded him so much of her beautiful mother.
Isabelle attempted to stand. Her chubby fingers clutched at his knee and her little legs wobbled, and he flung out an arm in case she might fall. But she never did. Her tiny fingers dug into his knee, digging into the fabric of his pantaloons as she wobbled ever closer. Her lips were shining with drool by the time she found her balance, and then she stuffed her hand into her mouth and gurgled.
He smiled at the mess she was making of her smock. “What are you about, my lady?”
Isabelle’s response made no sense to him at all, but she still moved closer. She lifted one foot and put it on him, dangerously near his groin. Fearing she might stomp and cause him pain, he reached for her and lifted her high into the air.
Isabelle giggled and threw all her weight forward.
Nash caught her against his chest. “I’ve got you, angel.”
She made another little cry and wriggled in his arms until her head collided with his cheekbone. Hard. He winced at the pain, but then her mouth connected with his jaw next. He froze, utterly surprised by her baby kiss. Wet, sloppy, and horrible. Yet somehow, adorable. “What a bold girl you are to kiss me like that.”
A tiny, damp hand landed against his jaw, and she pinched his face, crying out in the way babes often did when overly excited.
Laura crossed the room and snatched Isabelle away from him. “She’s hungry.”
“She’s teething,” he noted.
“Yes, and always eager for what she should not have.”
Nash hissed in frustration as Laura took Isabelle as far away as possible from him and fussed over the tiny girl in such a way that meant he couldn’t see the child. It was clear Laura adored their daughter, but it seemed she did not want him to do the same. He could have tended the girl if he’d been shown what to do, and he could certainly have given her that dry husk of bread to bite into.
But Laura had always rushed to the children as soon as she thought they would make a fuss, and well before any servant tried to beat her to it.
After she’d left, he’d structured his sons’ days to ensure they were never alone or an afterthought. It was his duty as a father to care for them, too.
But Laura had always been more spontaneous than him. She did things on impulse, but that wasn’t his way. It was the primary difference between them and the subject of most of their last arguments.
According to Laura, he was too strict, too hidebound and cautious.
If she’d grown up with a father like his, she would have turned out the same. Rules had been the only constant in his life.
But according to Algernon, he had to change.
If he continued to enforce his rules, they would always fight and argue. However, if he let his control lapse for the month, chaos would ensue. The boys would become unruly, argumentative, and not attend to their lessons well enough. Only then might Laura see a schedule was best for everyone. When she finally admitted he was right, he’d be there to step in and take charge.
Laura had never seen the value of giving the children a set of rules to guide their days.
Nash could be as impulsive and unpredictable as anyone. But what was the point in proving her wrong now? She didn’t expect him to change. She probably didn’t care that he might consider doing so.
He pursed his lips, liking that idea of surprising her, but to what end? They were to divorce. There would be no benefit to him if she liked him better.
He studied her now and shook his head.
The only area of their marriage where Laura had not confused him was in the pleasures they’d shared in their marriage bed. Some of his best moments had occurred in her room, on top of her bed, by moonlight.
No.
She’d made it very clear she did not want him in that way ever again. Time and distance had dimmed the importance of those pleasurable moments for her, it seemed.
But not for him.
Nash had cherished each and every hour they’d spent together at night. He had never truly been comfortable expressing affection where one of his brothers—or his father—might see. Father would have seen it as a sign of weakness.
He hadn’t wanted his father or brothers to suspect how often they were intimate. The younger ones would have teased him about Laura, and that would have humiliated her if she’d overheard it. He’d restrained himself in public for the sake of modesty, too. Laura had been the only lady in a household full of men.
No, for the sake of peace, he would refrain from mentioning again the pleasures she would miss when they divorced. And if she ever remembered and changed her mind, he would let her come to him and beg. Come to his room, and there, she would be reminded that he had placed her needs ahead of his own every single time.
He had the night Isabelle was conceived, too.
Even if he had been deep in his cups and too foolish to recognize the beauty under his hands as his very own wife, he had ensured she was sated before he found his own release.
He heaved a heavy sigh of regret and adjusted his position. It had been a long time since he’d sat on the floor like this. It would remain uncomfortable as well, if they only had the one chair or window seat to sit on here.
The nursery was not meant for children and both their parents. He would have to make some adjustments to ensure their comfort, too.
And then Algernon expected them to spend an hour a day—as judged by the falling sands of an hourglass—together in conversation with him, explaining why they could never be happily married to each other.
He still did not see the point of becoming reacquainted with his wife, only to give up in the end.
The thought made him sadder than the prospect of divorce had ever seemed before she’d come back.
A scratch sounded on the door before a servant entered. “A message from His Grace.”
Nash reached for his note and skimmed it. He was being summoned.
“I have to go,” he said slowly, oddly disappointed by that fact.
“Then go,” Laura said so dismissively that he felt the barb as a stab through the heart.
“I’ll return as soon as I’m free to do so,” he promised. “Perhaps we could take luncheon together.”
“Yes, please,” Thomas and Liam cried out at the same time. Luncheon together often meant a meal taken in the formal dining room, which the boys seemed to love inhabiting.
He had not done that enough with them. It would be his first meal with Laura for several years, too.
He climbed to his feet and glanced at his wife again. She wasn’t even watching him, so he rather awkwardly took his leave.
But on the way down the staircase, he could not shake the feeling he was making a mistake. He stopped and glanced up. Perhaps he should have refused the duke and put his family first, the way Laura said she’d always wanted him to. Or they could have come with him.
Nash shook his head and resumed his path to the library, where the duke awaited him. It might be important.
“I appreciate your prompt arrival,” Algernon said to Nash as he strode into the library.
Nash tossed the note he’d received into the library fire and threw himself into a high-backed chair. “You summoned me in the same manner Father used to do. A note.”
“Well, the discussion of your sudden engagement began in such a manner with a summons from Father,” Algernon murmured. “I thought you would appreciate the symmetry.”
Nash threw himself into a chair.
“My father did the same to me when Nash came the day after he declared his intentions,” Laura added as she entered the room. “You sent for me, Your Grace?”
Nash rose immediately, watching Laura glide into the room toward the duke, a note of summons crumpled in her fist.
“Where are the boys, and Isabelle?” he asked, rather astonished she’d leave the girl anywhere.
“Jasper and Mrs. Radcliffe arrived to take charge of them all,” she answered without meeting his gaze, glaring at Algernon. “They were ordered by the duke to take them out to see the horses. I told them they should ask for permission instead, but Jasper ignored my wishes.”
The duke shrugged.
“They should be at their lessons,” Nash protested.
She met his gaze, defiant. “The minute you left, I let them play.”
Nash pressed his lips together, momentarily taken aback by her hostility but not surprised, really. “We will talk about this later.”
“You may talk, but I don’t have to listen,” she said flippantly.
“Now, now,” Algernon exclaimed. “Let’s not start bickering.”
“Too late,” Laura quipped as she lowered herself into a chair and carelessly let the crushed note drop to the floor beneath her.
Nash stared at the paper, waiting for her to pick it up. However, it seemed Laura had left the nursery in a belligerent frame of mind, and she would leave the paper there for someone else to pick up.
She noticed his interest in the paper and acknowledged it with a defiant raise of her brow, daring him to say or do something about the mess she’d made.
Nash stretched to pick it up and threw it into the fire as well.
Algernon smiled at them both. “Right. Now. Shall we begin?”
Nash nodded, and Laura did the same.