Chapter 5 #2
She walked to the bed and looked down at him. Why would he feel guilty? He despised her.
She shook herself and turned her attention back to Isaac. “Would you like me to have a room made ready for you?”
“No, I’ll do just fine in the chair. Someone needs to watch him and make sure he doesn’t wander off or choke on his own vomit in the middle of the night.”
That should probably be her job, as his wife. “Forgive me for not being an adequate hostess. I confess to being quite befuddled. I didn’t think I’d ever see him again.”
“Oh, you’ll see him again. I expect he’ll be embarrassed by his conduct after he comes around and will run off again for a while, but he’ll be back. This sort of behavior runs in the family, I’m afraid.”
“Does that mean his cousin is this way too?”
“Well, not so much now, but the early days of his marriage were difficult.” He nodded toward Giles. “He’s a good man. He just needs some time to remember that.”
She nodded. “Do you need anything? A drink? Or a blanket?”
“I’ll be fine. Thank you for your hospitality, despite our sudden, not so pleasant arrival. Goodnight, Mrs. Henderson.”
She looked down at her husband for a moment, still not understanding.
Was he a good man? His brow wasn’t furrowed like it always had been when he’d spoken to her.
He looked peaceful. Perhaps even a bit vulnerable with his fawn-colored hair disheveled and dirt smudged on the side of his face.
It was harder to hate him this way. With a sigh, she removed his shoes and placed them on the floor.
Pulling the blankets over him, she whispered, “I don’t know why you’re here, but goodnight. ”
What was going to happen now that he’d returned? Was he going to stay? Or would he run off again like Isaac predicted? She changed into her nightgown and climbed into bed, but hardly slept a wink. How could she, with him in the next room? But eventually, dawn came, indifferent to her lack of sleep.
She didn't want to get out of bed, but there was probably no rush. After his apparent overindulgence, her husband would likely sleep the day away. She was not a stranger to the effects of alcohol. It was undoubtedly how her father ended up in so much debt. He made poor decisions when he drank.
She laughed under her breath as she threw back the blankets. Perhaps all men were alike in that way.
She entered her dressing room with a yawn, but before she could ring for Winnie, she heard grumbling coming from her husband’s bedchamber. Perhaps he wasn't going to sleep the day away after all. She crept through his adjoining dressing room and over to his door to listen.
“God’s teeth. My head is pounding.”
“And that comes as a surprise?”
“Where the hell am I?”
“In your bed. Did you drink so much you don’t even recognize your own bedroom?”
“This is not my bedroom.”
“Your wife says it is.”
“My wife?” There was some rustling. “Jesus, it looks like a bloody flower garden threw up in here. What the hell happened?”
Christina had to bite her lip to keep from giggling.
“Maybe your wife got bored and decided to redecorate after you abandoned her here with nothing else to do.”
She was liking Isaac more and more by the minute.
“Why would she redecorate my bedroom?” He groaned. “Don’t tell me the rest of the house is this way too.”
She didn’t hear Isaac answer, but he must have, because her husband began shouting.
“How dare she? I did not give her permission to rack up debt on my accounts. Takes after her father I suppose. Spending money that isn’t hers.”
Christina yanked the door open and marched into his room.
“How dare me? How dare you! I wouldn’t know how to rack up debt on your accounts, even if I did want to.
” He seemed to be momentarily stunned into silence, so she forged ahead.
“The money you sent me as a cruel reminder, that is how I paid for all of it!”
“What money?”
“The one hundred pounds you had delivered by your solicitor, just to remind me of what I did. Or were you too drunk to remember that too?”
“I didn’t send any money.”
“Oh?” She gestured around the room. “I suppose the house redecorated itself then.” Her anger was mounting and tears stung her eyes.
She always cried when she was angry, and she hated it.
“Everyone around you says what a kind man you are.” A tear escaped down her cheek and she slapped it away.
“But all I’ve ever seen from you is vitriol.
You’ve never been anything but horrible to me. ”
“Well then, perhaps you trapped the wrong man!”
She picked up a throw pillow and hurled it at him. With an outraged sob, she stormed from the room, slamming the door behind her. Perhaps she had married the wrong man, and she was stuck with him now.
But then she remembered the alternative. Lord Chilton. This was still the right choice, but how was she going to live this way? Never knowing when he might show up and shower her with more of his acrimony.
After a few minutes, she heard him march down the stairs and out the front door. Wiping her tears with trembling fingers, she sat down to write Lavinia a letter. She was not going to sit idly by and wait for him to come back.