Chapter 21
Spencer knew that Anna was furious with him. How could she be anything else? But it had to be done.
She left for her room after he told her, and he did not see her again until the following morning as he was preparing to leave. He had hoped to spend a final night with her, but in truth, he could not blame her for wanting to keep her distance.
He wondered, as he went to breakfast, if she would come to see him at all.
He had delayed his departure on purpose, in case she wanted to speak to him, even if he was not convinced that she would.
To his delight, she did, and she was wearing his favorite nightgown of hers.
He wished that she looked happier, but then he only had himself to blame for the fact that she seemed quite furious.
“Good morning,” he said carefully. “Did you sleep well?”
“Did you?”
Her tone was cold, and he hated that their last interaction would be like that. He wanted to fix it, even if he did not know how.
“You should know that I do not wish to leave.”
“Then do not. I will not listen to you pretend that you want to stay, not when your presence or absence is wholly in your control.”
“It is not. Anna, I have already told you that I have no say in where I go. My family needs me, and so I have to leave.”
“Your family does need you,” she muttered, “and you are leaving it.”
Her words stung. She was, indeed, his family, but it was not as simple as that. If he had the choice, he would have remained where he was, and settled the rumors and the scandal, and then he would have continued to enjoy the life he was sharing with his wife.
But that was not possible, not for a long time.
“I will return,” he promised.
“When? You left for an entire year last time, and you only returned when your position was threatened. Is that what it will take?”
“No. Not anymore. I will come back because you are here, and I will not allow so much time to pass regardless of what happens.”
She was quiet for a moment, and he hoped it was because she believed him. He had every intention of returning to her as soon as he could, and it was not because of the issue of his title. His only reason for coming home as soon as he could was because of Anna and how much he wanted to be with her.
“Well,” she said, her face softening, “what if I were to join you? If it is your family that you are going to see, then that means they are my family too. I would like to meet them.”
He was hoping she would not ask. She could not accompany him, and it was for a reason she would loathe.
“The family that I am seeing does not know that I am married,” he explained. “They believe that they are my only priority, and so if I appear with my wife, it will be too much.”
“They do not know about me? Then it is no wonder that they expect you to arrive as and when they please. Perhaps, if you tell them that we are married, they will understand that you have other things to do.”
“That is not how my… situation… is. They will be furious with me for allowing a woman into my life, and it will only cause trouble.”
“So you will never tell them about me, is that it? Will I always be your secret wife that you only see when it is convenient?”
“That is not how I see you, and you know it.”
“Do I?”
They looked at one another, Spencer not knowing what to say to her.
There was no excuse for what he was doing, even if it was what had to be done.
He would miss her terribly, and each day that he was in the north, he would await his return, but he did not know what he would be confronted by there.
All he knew was that it was urgent, and he had already put off his departure.
“I will return soon,” he promised again. “And I will write to you when I can.”
He went to kiss her, but she turned away. She was hurt, and he wanted to help her somehow, but there was nothing that could be said or done to persuade her that he was not trying to cause her pain.
As he boarded his carriage, he looked back to see if she had come to wave him away, but she had not. He was looking at a closed door, his wife on the other side of it, and his chest throbbed as he realized that he might not see her for a while.
He also wondered if she had worn the nightgown deliberately, to give him a final reminder of what he was leaving behind.
If she had, she would have been successful, for he could not stop thinking about it.
He imagined the satin in his hands as he unraveled it, peeling it away from her and discarding it, exposing her soft skin and exploring every inch of her.
He shook himself, remembering that he was going away for something important, even if it no longer felt as urgent as it had the day before.
Sophia was in danger, and though he did not quite know what it was, he knew it had to be important.
She did not write to him if she had no need to, even though her situation was dire enough that he was almost always required.
The journey was endless, and it became repetitive quickly.
The trees were all the same, and the sky remained the same sad shade of gray throughout.
He longed to be in his parlor room by the fire, Anna lying on the floor beside him and looking at her with her hair a mess and her cheeks stained.
She understood him in a way that nobody else ever had, and forgave him more than she ever should have, and in return, he had hurt her again.
He wished that he thought of her less. He wished that, when he returned, he had found her repulsive, so that he would not have felt such desire for her. He craved her, body and soul, and that did not ease as she grew further away.
When he arrived, it was the middle of the night. They would likely be asleep, and though he did not want to intrude, he did not know what else to do.
“Shall I take you to an inn, Your Grace?” his footman called out.
“I do not believe that will be necessary,” he sighed. “If it is as urgent as it seemed, I ought to enter now.”
But he wanted to go to an inn. He wanted one more night away from such dreadful obligations.
A part of him wished he had less honor than he did, so that he was able to say that it was none of his concern and continue to live as he pleased, but he could not help but blame himself in part for what had happened.
He opened the door and exited the carriage, making his way to the household. It was small and old, not at all fit for a duke, but it was enough. It was a place where he would not be recognized, which was exactly what he needed.
Entering the household, he felt the cold breeze against his skin.
He had left provisions for the fire, but it was clear that it had remained unlit.
He was furious, knowing that whatever the issue was, it was likely connected to that.
Without finding the housekeeper, he made his way to the sitting room, lighting the fire and standing in front of it, wishing it were his own.
“You are here,” a voice came behind him.
It was stern and demanding, and he bristled at the intrusion. The gall of the woman, to speak to him that way when he had made his way there as quickly as he possibly could have!
“Your greeting could be kinder,” he said as he turned to face her.
“And you could remember that you have left me in a terrible situation,” the lady grumbled, blue eyes dark. “We need you here, Spencer.”
“I am needed there, too. You know that I have other duties besides you, Sophia.”
“Yes, your social standing, I know.”
She spoke ill of his title whenever she could, for though most people would have admired him for it, his sister was not as willing to see it that way. To her, his role was what kept them apart and what had led to her being shunned all those years before.
“You know that I must consider what people think of me.”
“I do. That is why I must be hidden away here, yes? That is why you hide me, hide your family in this tiny household, not wanting to offer us anything more.”
“I told you that if you want to return to London, I will take you there. You are the one that–”
It was not an argument he wanted to have, not so soon after his arrival. It was usual for them to argue while he was there, but he liked to put it off for as long as he could; once they started, they hardly ever managed to stop.
She tucked an auburn curl behind her ear, looking at the fire. Spencer knew what she was thinking; she was considering her options, even though he knew what she would decide. She felt that she belonged there, and it was convenient for him to have them kept away from him.
That was, until he had to see them.
“Why is it so cold in here?” he asked. “I ensured you had everything you needed to keep your home warm. It is important at this time of year, especially in this part of the country.”
“I know that. I also know that you have a tendency to be away for a long time when you leave, and I know better than to use everything that I have when it is unnecessary.”
“It is completely necessary, Sophia. What if the boy catches a chill?”
Her breath caught, and Spencer felt his heart stop. That was the emergency, the reason why he had to return to her then and there.
“Sophia, what have you done?” he asked.
“It is not my fault!” she snapped. “I am running a household and caring for a child alone. What do you expect me to do?”
Spencer turned and made his way to the boy’s room, unable to look at her. Anna had been running a household alone in his absence, and he had been unable to fault her for how she had done so. Sophia, on the other hand, always seemed to treat it like a protest or to punish him for leaving her.
But with a child so small, it was a dangerous game to play.
He entered the bedroom and quickly made his way to the small bed in the corner. The moment he arrived at the bedside, the child tumbled to his feet, reaching up for him enthusiastically.
“Papa!” he squealed. “Papa!”
His skin prickled, but he took the boy in his arms regardless. With the child so happy to see him, there would be no settling him again, and so he carried him through to the sitting room by the fire. He sat with the child in his arms, looking at his large eyes.
They matched his, much to his bemusement.
“He is calling me his papa again,” he said coldly. “I told you to discourage that.”
“He is too small to know otherwise. All that he knows is that I am his mama, and you are the only man he knows. What would you have me do?”
“The truth would not hurt him.”
But he knew he was being unfair. The boy was far too small to understand the predicament, and Sophia had made a mistake when speaking in his presence. He had to let it go.
“How unwell is he?” he asked.
“I do not know. I do not know how bad it will become. I saw it beginning, and I knew that I needed you here to help. Even though you are later than expected, I am pleased that you are here.”
She knelt beside him, placing a hand on his arm that he shrugged off.
“I told you it was important that I return home,” he said firmly. “I also told you that I did not know how long I would be away. That was not a challenge for you to see how quickly you could make me return.”
“I did not view it as such.”
“Do not lie to me, Sophia. Every time I try to leave, you find a reason why I cannot. I have other duties to fulfil, and if I do not succeed in doing that, it risks you and Gilbert. I know that you think you are the most important person to me, but it is more complicated than that.”
“And I have always known that. I have never been very important to anyone, as you know, and someone in my predicament is all too aware that I have only myself to rely on.”
“And that is not true either,” he said roughly, knowing that refuting her claims was futile.
Sophia was strong-willed, and there was no changing it. Spencer knew what was best for them, and he had tried to make her see things the way that he did, but there was no use. She would always do as she pleased, and he would be left to clean up the mess she made.
“You said that you could fulfil your duties here,” she reminded him.
“You told me that Gilbert and I were not burdens, and that you could do what you needed to do without leaving. Suddenly, that changed, and you never told me why. You simply left me without explanation, and I do not understand why.”
Spencer bit his lip. He did need to tell her the truth, but he did not know what she would say.
Part of him thought that she would not care at all, and insist that he stayed with her and did what was necessary to help them, but another part of him wondered if she would at last realize that he had to leave.
It would have been preferable had it not meant that he would never see them again. If Sophia closed the door, there would be no way to open it again, even if it was to her detriment. She needed Spencer in a way that Anna did not, and that was why Spencer had preferred to be with her.
What he had never considered, however, was that he might need his wife.
“You are right,” he admitted. “I should have told you why I had to leave, and I will in time.”
“Why not now?” she snapped.
“Because my priority is your son. You should feel the same.”