Chapter 26 #2
Linnie’s voice crept up an octave. “The only reason you married me was to thwart Lord Culross?”
“No.”
He’d uttered that denial with such speed and conviction her shoulders sagged.
“There was also the matter of your cousin,” he added.
Linnie jerked like he’d stabbed her.
Pain twisted his features. No, wait. Gone so quick, it’d merely been a flick of the fire’s glow, playing with his beautifully hard, noble features.
Then another sickening thought intruded.
She blanched. “Hyde Park.”
Linnie took a faltering step away from Tremaine, like she raced away from the Devil. That likening, though, was hardly fair to the Dark Lord.
“Hyde Park,” she cried.
“Was an accidental ruin—convenient but not planned. A happy accident.”
And this was no doubt the last time the word “happy” would be linked in any way between them.
“A happy accident,” she echoed shrilly. “Oh, my God. August was right.”
His body snapped whipcord straight. “Madam,” he said frostily. “I’ll remind you, be angry with me all you like, but I’m your husband and you won’t go about calling other men by their given names.” His eye twitched. “Especially not men who’ve had you in their arms.”
“Ah, yes. I mustn’t forget. I’m the possession you won.” Jeremy didn’t really care about her. A sob burst from her throat.
“Linnie,” he said softly, “after Arran’s betrayal, I was sure I hated every last McQuoid.”
“Yes, I remember your disdain at Lord and Lady Rutland’s,” she spat bitterly through her tears. “I let myself believe your sudden transformation from hateful stranger to a gentleman beguiled by me . . .” A tremble took hold of Linnie’s body and wouldn’t let go. “The laugh you must have had.”
“Never!”
She didn’t hear him. Her horror grew. Linnie’s gaze went to those speedily abandoned drinks all set out.
“You and your friends,” she whispered. “That’s why you were toasting. You were all laughing at me.”
“No!” His skin went wan. “That was about my ship’s launch, Linnie. I swear it.”
He swore it? “And y-your word means so much?”
His hands curled into fists.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she spat, finding no solace or satisfaction in her acrimony. “Have I offended your honor?”
Jeremy’s eyes grew turbulent. “No.” He ran a hand over his face. “I deserved that and more.”
His acknowledgment of wrongdoing also didn’t ease the crushing weight of anguish.
They stood locked in silence, at an impasse.
Or maybe it wasn’t an impasse. Maybe there just weren’t any other words they ever needed to share. He’d already said all there was to say, and Linnie now knew everything there was to know.
Linnie glanced away first, her gaze sliding over to the leather button chair she’d curled up in every single day as he’d worked.
She wanted to go back to any one of those days.
She wanted to return to any one of those times where she hadn’t known any of this, and where her greatest worry and wonder was when he’d profess his love.
She felt him watching her.
Linnie yanked her vacant stare away from that armchair.
“Linnie,” Jeremy said quietly, “I was sure I hated all McQuoids, but the more time I spent with you, I realized I didn’t. I . . . enjoy your company. You are clever and funny and—”
“Not so very clever, as I failed to realize what was at play.” She bit her lip.
Jeremy pulled a hand through his hair. He let it fall, and as it did, she saw a slight shake to those long, powerful fingers that’d so tenderly, so masterfully, stroked her body to exquisite heights.
Fascinated, Linnie cocked her head.
“Linnie, I understand you might not believe it when I say I did come to care about you. My desire for you was always real. My hope is to see you happy, and I promise to keep you safe.”
“Keep me safe?” she whispered. “Keep me safe? Jeremy, you are the one who hurt me most.”
He said nothing. His face went blank.
“I have to leave,” he said tonelessly. “I wish I could”—a grimace twisted his cruelly beautiful, hard lips—“stay, particularly given the timing of this all.”
Was there a better time to discuss betrayals and the sham marriage one perpetuated?
A panicky giggle bubbled up, and she pressed a fist against her mouth to keep the half-mad sound in. Somehow, she kept on her feet. Somehow, when he looked like he would say more but instead bowed and headed to the door, she remained standing still.
Somehow, she continued doing so, even when he turned back and looked at her with haunted eyes . . . Oh, wait, those were her own reflected back.
“Goodbye, Linnie,” he said quietly. “I am . . . sorry about all of this.”
Their marriage. Being stuck with a woman who, by the very blood flowing in her veins and the name she’d been born with, was his enemy.
Jeremy reached for the handle.
“Jeremy?”
Her husband whipped around.
“May the winds be at your back and the sun shine upon your path,” she said softly.
A shadow flickered in his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak.
If he tells me it started as one thing, but along the way it all changed, that along the way he fell madly, desperately in love with me, I’ll forgive him everything.
The pitiful creature that she’d become for and because of this man arched toward the unfinished sentence, wanting it to be what she needed it to be . . .
Instead, with a bow of his head, Jeremy turned around and left.