Chapter Forty-Two
Every time Frances woke up, Nathaniel was at her side. Sometimes with Sarah, but usually just him. Once, she thought she was alone, but it was because Nathaniel had climbed into bed with her, his body heat mixing with the blankets to warm her.
Unfortunately, it seemed the better she got, the further Nathaniel retreated from her, both emotionally, with one-word responses, and physically, where he eventually opted to sleep upright in the chair rather than with her.
“How did you sleep?” he asked, almost as soon as she opened her eyes and saw him standing by the open window.
“For ever, it seems.” She sighed. “Is the bread still—”
“We thought you might regain your appetite.” He smiled and brought over a tray with bread, cheese, a hardboiled egg, and bacon.
“How long was I asleep?”
“Today is Wednesday,” Nathaniel shared. “Evening.”
She tried to sit up. “Lady Rochefort!”
“Understands that you were ill, but is expecting us next Sunday for a dinner party in your honor.”
“I think I’m going to be sick.”
“She assured me there would be less than ten people, but she sees no other way to ensure your presence.”
“Perhaps it was easier when no one noticed my presence.”
“When was that? Because this invitation predates our—”
“She was just being polite, then I became Lady Lark and she had to follow through.” Frances stopped him before he could find a dismissive term for their relationship. Their marriage.
“She likes you,” he argued. “And I have it on good authority that she does not feel the same about most people.”
“She smiles when she sees you.”
“She and my grandmother have been friends a very long time.”
Nathaniel was carrying the conversation, but it all seemed like he was going through the motions while waiting for something to happen.
Like small talk with Daisy’s suitors while they waited for her to come downstairs.
Only Nathaniel was free to leave at any moment. She never asked him to stay. Had she?
“You seem preoccupied.”
“Relieved you’re well.” He smiled, and for a moment, it was genuine, before he took a deep breath. “But I think we should talk about what happened.”
“I’ll dress warmer next time. Perhaps wait until the day isn’t as chilly. Maybe even come in for soup and tea. But the rain wasn’t—"
“I mean what happened after the rain. Before the gardening.” He swallowed, clearly uncomfortable.
“That.” Frances sighed. She’d been expecting it, but the look on his face—guilt, turmoil, and shame—it was like a knife through her heart.
“I got carried away, and—”
“I shouldn’t have pushed. You told me you have no interest—”
“I want to apologize for taking advantage of you after I promised—”
“I was the one who—”
“It was a mistake. A lapse in judgment on my part, but I’ll make sure it never happens again.”
His words silenced her.
“A mistake,” she repeated.
She knew it wasn’t planned, but she couldn’t bring herself to call one of the best nights of her life a mistake. Then again, she loved and desired him, whereas he very specifically told her he didn’t, and couldn’t, feel the same about her.
“I…I’m glad you agree.”
“Of course,” she lied. “I knew what I was getting myself into. You went above and beyond these past few days.”
“I promised to—” he started, but Frances flinched at the word. “I’m very glad you’re recovered.”
“Yes, quite.”
“And they’ve finished with my chambers, so…”
“We can go back to how things were.”
She tried to smile, to show him she thought that a brilliant idea, but in truth, if she could go back to the way things were, it would be before she got sick, perhaps even before they consummated their marriage, but not before they got close, sharing her bed.
“Exactly.”
“It’s the logical thing to do.”
She wanted to scream. He took it as her agreeing with him, but it wasn’t the least bit logical.
“Have you already eaten?”
Frances knew, or rather felt, that as soon as he left the room, everything they’d built would be over. She would take another bout of fever if it could delay that moment.
“I’m not hungry,” he argued.
He moved toward the door.
“I’m not sure my appetite has returned enough to eat all of this on my own.”
She tried to keep him.
“Leave whatever you can’t finish. Sarah will be up soon to fetch it.”
He smiled, and she tried to smile back, but she felt the pain, right in her chest, and broke into tears the moment he left her.