28. Chapter 28 #2
Heaven help her, no. She couldn’t imagine any other man existed outside of him, which is part of why she was so desperately suggesting this now.
She’d had more than a few propositions with the success of the opera.
Men sent her suggestive notes and a couple who were friends of the producers had even propositioned her outright.
That was nothing new for a female singer, but it had been more frequent of late.
“No, no, of course I don’t. I want to focus on my career for now. But I do eventually want to marry and have children.” Why had she added that? She hardly knew what she was saying.
His skin turned an alarming pallor and he ran his hands through his previously neat hair, leaving it sticking out at odd angles. Somehow, God help her, it only made him more attractive. It’s how he looked in bed after he’d thoroughly ravished her and her fingers had been threaded through his hair .
When he didn’t speak, she added, “And you, too, will want to marry and produce an heir. I don’t want to stand in your way. If you think the new year is too soon, then I suppose we can wait another year. It just seems silly to keep up with the ruse when we’ll part ways eventually.”
He took a sharp breath. “You still want a divorce.”
“David, you can’t…” She stared at him in open shock. “Why are you pretending surprise?”
“Pretending surprise?” He stared at her, mouth agape. “We’ve been close these past weeks. You’ve seen how things can be between us. Why would I want a divorce still?”
She sputtered. “It was part of our agreement.”
“Hang our agreement.” His voice was so quiet it startled her.
Now it was her turn to stare, mouth agape.
Then she sputtered because her disbelief was so great that she couldn’t form a coherent sentence.
Taking in a breath, she managed to recover her equilibrium.
“Not divorcing doesn’t make sense, David.
Why would we stay married? You must want a suitable wife to bear your children. ”
“You are a suitable wife to bear my children.”
“David…” She pulled in a deep breath. “Be reasonable. Alfred has been more than kind to me, but he doesn’t really want me to be the mother of the future Duke of Strathmore. The ton doesn’t want me to be the future Duchess of Strathmore. No one wants that.”
“ I want that, Jenny. I want you to be the mother of the future duke. I want you to bear my child, my children.” His voice roared throughout the room and it seemed to surprise him.
He appeared abashed and lowered his eyes.
When he raised them again, they were lit with conviction.
“I want you to bear as many children as you’ll give me.
I want to spend every night with you, every day with you, and when I breathe my last breath, I want it to be with you at my side. ”
She couldn’t breathe. Could barely even hear over the buzzing that had started in her ears.
This wasn’t at all what she expected from him.
He wasn’t supposed to be kind and tender and unwilling to let her go.
He was supposed to distant and selfish and glad to be done with her.
But that wasn’t who he was turning out to be.
She felt adrift, as if the floor was falling out from beneath her.
“I married you because I wanted you.” He filled in the silence.
“I don’t care that you don’t have an illustrious pedigree.
I don’t care that you’re illegitimate. I want you, Jenny.
I can think of no one better to mother my children than a woman who is beautiful and kind and witty and has the voice of an angel.
I want our children and if every single one of them wants to run rampant across the playhouses of the world, then I don’t care. ”
“No, that was never how it was meant to be,” she whispered because she couldn’t find her voice. Why did she want it so badly, though?
Because she was no better than her mother, willing to throw away her dreams for a man.
“Then why did you kiss me on opening night?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I was overcome with emotion.”
“It was the one condition you had and you blew right through it. Why?”
“I don’t know,” she nearly shouted. But she did know. It was because when she’d looked out in the audience, terrified and alone, he had been there. He had been home to her, a beacon in the dark theater, and she had forgotten everyone else. Her performance had been for him.
“Don’t you, Jenny?” he asked as if he could read her mind.
His voice had taken on a quiet hush that gave it an edge that frightened her.
It didn’t scare her because she thought he might harm her, it shot terror through her veins because it was how he spoke to her in the confines of those London ballrooms. It was that soft, husky whisper that was hers and hers alone, used to convey secrets and cutting remarks at everyone who dared to cut her .
It was the voice that meant they were in this together.
She whirled away from him because she couldn’t hear it anymore.
She couldn’t be in the same room with him and know that she had fallen under his spell when she had fought so hard to keep her cool with him.
She wasn’t supposed to love him. She wasn’t supposed to want this marriage for anything other than a means to an end.
She wasn’t supposed to lose herself in this.
“What if I still want the divorce?” she asked, trying to gather the remnants of her quickly unraveling resistance.
He was silent for a moment. “I won’t give you one.”
The shock of that made her gasp. A man attempting to control a woman with marriage. It was her father and mother all over again, except in reverse.
“David?” She spun and saw the resolution on his face. His steadfast determination frightened her. But only because she wanted to yield to it. Making her voice firm, she said, “That’s not fair.”
“I don’t care.” He shook his head. “If you would give us half a chance, you’d see that I’m right. You don’t want a divorce either.”
“Go back to London, David.” He blinked, startled somehow even though he must have expected this.
“I never agreed to your new terms. I don’t need you here and I don’t need this distraction now.
You complicate everything.” She walked away and didn’t dare look back to see his face.
If there was a shred of pain on it, she didn’t trust herself to keep going.
To do what she knew was the right thing.
He stood silently, either struck dumb or apoplectic with outrage—she wasn’t sure which .
“Jenny,” he finally said when she reached the hall. His voice was a soft gasp and she was fairly certain it was the former. “Jenny!” he called when she kept walking.
She hurried out the front door and prayed he didn’t give chase. What was she supposed to do now? She’d gone and fallen in love with him, given him power over her, and it was the most terrible thing that could ever happen.