Chapter 32
“You’re a mess, old friend,” Reeves remarked, taking a seat opposite Norman in his study and reaching for the bottle of brandy.
Norman looked up at Reeves without saying a word.
He picked up his own glass and took a sip.
His head was pleasantly foggy and had been that way for the past two days, thanks to steady pours from that bottle.
He kept himself alert—he would need to be—but the occasional glass was enough to take the sharp edge off his failures and his anger at Susan.
He couldn’t look too closely at that anger. If he did, he would be forced to acknowledge something he did not want to admit—that he wasn’t really angry with her at all. Yes, he felt deep rage, but… not for her.
No, he couldn’t think about that.
“I’m not a mess,” he told Reeves. “I’m having a drink, that’s all.”
“You can’t pull one over on me so easily. Do you think I don’t know what’s happened here? Your wife is gone.”
Norman looked at his friend. He had made no public announcement to that effect, nor was he aware of Susan having told anybody.
As far as he was aware, not even her father had yet been informed of her departure.
Marina knew, of course, but would Marina really have gossiped about her own sister, as close as they were?
He thought it unlikely. “What makes you say that?” he managed.
“Norman, perhaps you haven’t been married long enough to understand the difference a lady’s presence brings to a house.
And this was particularly true in your case, I might add.
When she was here, I could walk in and know that there was a lady in the house.
The whole place seemed a little bit brighter because of her.
Now that she’s gone, it’s as if you have closed all the drapes.
And that’s not to mention, my friend, that there are three used glasses on your desk.
I’m glad you’ve been getting fresh ones every now and again, but it’s clear to anyone who might want to know that you’ve been sitting in here drinking for days. ”
Norman sighed. “You see the bottle. I haven’t had that much to drink.”
“Even so, a man whose wife is in the house doesn’t just sit around drinking. And even if all that hadn’t told me what was going on, your valet mentioned it when he let me in.”
“Billings is going to lose his position if he isn’t careful.”
“You won’t punish him,” Reeves said mildly.
“You and I both know that he’s the best valet you could have hoped for.
You may not have been a part of society for very long, Norman, but you’ve been around me long enough to know the pain of a man who doesn’t care to do his job well, and I know you’re happy with Billings.
You won’t let him go over this. He’s only trying to help you. ”
“That isn’t his responsibility.” Norman raked a hand through his hair. It felt good to point his anger somewhere.
Even so, he knew Reeves was right—he couldn’t possibly let Billings go. “What did he tell you, exactly?”
“He told me that she had gone to stay with her sister.” Reeves leaned forward. “He seemed concerned. He said that she had told her maid she intended to come back, but that when the two of you spoke about it before she left, it seemed as though maybe she didn’t. What can you tell me?”
“I don’t know that I want to talk about this.” Norman took a sip of his drink and gazed out the window.
“I’m sure you don’t,” Reeves agreed. “But you have a friend here who is willing to hear about your suffering—”
“Suffering is a big word for it.”
“All right.” Reeves leaned back in his chair. “How would you describe it?”
Norman gritted his teeth. “It’s an annoyance.”
“An annoyance,” Reeves repeated. His tone betrayed fully that he didn’t believe what Norman was saying.
“You would be annoyed too, if you were just going about your business and one day your wife told you she was going to leave,” he said.
“Annoyed wouldn’t cover it,” Reeves countered. “I would be devastated. I think any man would be.”
“You would feel that way because you love your wife,” Norman told his friend. “Of course you would be lost without her. Not everyone is like you in that regard.”
“I said nothing about love,” Reeves said. “I would think you’d be distraught at losing her because it would mean your marriage had failed—a marriage that, presumably, you had wanted to succeed.” He eyed Norman appraisingly. “You’re the one who brought love into the conversation.”
Norman’s stomach knotted. “I was talking about you.”
“Were you?” Reeves shook his head. “I’m not convinced, Norman.
Your thoughts are on your own situation.
Your own wife. And they should be there.
But I think you’re speaking of your own concerns now.
You’re worried about your own feelings toward the lady you married, and that’s why you’ve been sitting in here with a bottle of brandy from the moment she left. ”
“Well, you’ve really figured everything out,” Norman said wryly. “And in a remarkably short time, too, given that you just learned Susan was gone. I can’t believe you solved all my problems so quickly.”
“And I can’t believe you haven’t,” Reeves said.
“You’re one of the smartest men I know, Norman.
That’s always been true. It’s the reason you and I have always been friends, even when society would have kept us apart due to our different stations in life.
We respected one another’s intellect. Isn’t that right? ”
“Yes,” Norman admitted grudgingly. “You know that I respect you.”
“I do know. And you know what we’ve always said. Every problem has a solution. So does this one.”
Something broke inside Norman. He rose to his feet and began to pace.
“I don’t see how that can be,” he said. “Suppose you’re right.
Suppose I do have… feelings for her.” He couldn’t bring himself to use the word Reeves had used, any more than he could compel himself to admit that the anger in his heart ought to be pointed toward himself.
He was the one who had let her get away. Perhaps he had even driven her away.
“Even if that’s true,” he went on, “I don’t see how it makes any difference. What was I do to? Force her to stay with me, just because that would be my preference? I can’t do that. She wanted to go. I had to permit it.”
“Just because you had to permit it, that doesn’t mean you’re forced to accept it,” Reeves said. He was sitting back in his chair, regarding Norman calmly. “You couldn’t barricade the doors and keep her in the house, but what was to stop you from going after her?”
“You want me to chase her down and drag her back against her will? I won’t do that.
” Norman’s hands balled into fists. He didn’t know if it was pride holding him back or if it was the powerful feeling that no one ought to manipulate Susan or force her into anything against her will. He felt both things.
“Norman,” Reeves said wearily. “Please, think about this. I’m not suggesting you drag her home by her hair. She’s your wife. You care about her. I’m saying you go tell her that.”
Norman recoiled from the very thought of it. “She doesn’t want to hear that from me.”
“You don’t know what she wants.”
“I do know. You didn’t see the way she looked when she was leaving.” He thought of Susan’s face on that day, her eyes devoid of all their sparkle. “You didn’t hear the things she said.”
“I don’t need to. I’m looking at you right now. I think you may never forgive yourself if you don’t fight for her. You have to try to win her back. I’m not saying it will be easy. But my God, man, isn’t she worth it to you? You want her back, don’t you? Go get her.”
Norman shook his head. “This is over,” he said quietly. “She asked for an annulment. I think the least I can do is grant her request.”
“You’re really going to apply to annul this marriage?”
“I’ve already contacted the Court,” Norman told his friend. “Things are underway. I’m just waiting for their answer. I’m sure they won’t deny us, once it becomes clear that we both want the same thing.”
“I just can’t believe you would let her go,” Reeves said quietly. “I can see how much she means to you. You deserve happiness, Norman, even if you don’t believe you ought to have it. You deserve to tell her what she means to you, and to bring her back.”
“You’re assuming she would come back if I did.”
“But don’t you want to find out?”
“I already know what would happen,” Norman said. “It’s obvious. I told you. She made it clear what she wanted when she left. She asked for an annulment, and I’m giving it to her.”
“You’re letting your pride get in your way,” Reeves said.
Norman said nothing. He just returned to his seat and sat down.
He was allowing his pride to influence him.
He knew that. It had bothered him deeply to know that Susan would be happier to abandon her marriage than to stay with him.
He must have done something to disappoint her—but what could it have been?
He had done nothing to violate the terms they had agreed upon when they had entered into this marriage.
No. That’s not true, and you know it. And this is the reason you’re angry at yourself.
He had done something. He had gone against what he had promised.
Because he had developed feelings for her.
How many times had she told him that she didn’t want to fall in love? That she would avoid it at all costs? And here he was, with feelings that were so obvious that even Reeves could see it.
Reeves knew nothing about that kiss.
His heart sank into the pit of his stomach.
That was why she had left. It had to be. She had avoided him for days following the kiss, and the next real conversation they’d had was about her desire to go.
This was the truth he had been trying to avoid, and the reason he was so angry at himself.
“I think you should go,” he told Reeves.
Reeves sighed. “You really aren’t going to listen to me, are you?”
“I’ve listened. I’ve heard what you had to say.”
“But you won’t change your course of action.
” Reeves rose to his feet. “You are making a mistake, Norman. You’re making a terrible mistake, and you’re going to live to regret this.
I wish I could change your mind. But I know a lost cause when I see one.
If you come to your senses, you’re going to do it on your own. There’s nothing more I can do.”
He turned and walked out the door, and Norman felt ill knowing that he had driven away a friend who was genuinely on his side.
But he couldn’t bear it. He couldn’t bear to have Reeves sit there and tell him that maybe Susan would return if only she knew the way he felt.
The way he felt was the reason she’d left. He was sure of that.
If only he had managed to contain those feelings. If only he hadn’t kissed her. If only he had taken her at her word when she’d told him she didn’t want love or romance.
But if that’s true… why did she say she didn’t want to be in a loveless marriage?
Even now, his thoughts plagued him. Even now, he couldn’t let go of the hope that she did want him after all—that if he were to confess his feelings, she would hear him and receive him with open arms.
It was a fool’s dream.
But Norman couldn’t quite let it go.