The Nuisance Wife

by Camille Oster

  Sneaking a glance over to where he lay, she saw him stretched out on the floor. His shirt was off and his skin reflected the light of the fire. He was… broader than he’d been, more solid. Soldiering had built him from a youth into a stronger man.

  His eyes were closed and he lay with his wrist behind his head, giving her a moment to observe him fully. It was much harder when those eyes were on her. They seemed to see everything. He watched her much more carefully now than he'd used to. He saw everything she did.

  For a moment, she wondered if there was anything she could do to change his focus, send him off in a huff. But truthfully she didn't have the stomach for what that would take. And a small part of her liked his attention, and intention. It felt like justification after everything that had been done to her, but it was a juvenile desire. She shouldn't want his attention unless she intended to do something with it, and she didn't have those intentions.

  Was it because she didn't trust him? She took a moment to consider him. No, that wasn't it. She didn't believe he would make the same mistake again. Her reticence really didn't have to do with him, it had to do with trusting and loving someone, with making herself utterly vulnerable to them and then being destroyed by it.

  It also made her realize that she hadn't intended on giving all of herself to Lord Fortescue. She would hold something back to protect herself, a piece of her heart that would remain untouched, and he didn't deserve that. Maybe over time she would have, she hoped.

  Tears threatened when she shifted down between the sheets, but she didn't want to cry here, or have Caius observe it, because he didn't like her crying and would seek to comfort her. And right now, she wasn't sure she could tolerate his care and kindness. She was too tired, too exhausted. These weeks since he'd returned had exhausted her.

  It took mere minutes to fall asleep to dreams she couldn't understand. They weren't fearful, they weren't joyous, they were pensive, almost as if she was waiting for something. Then a noise drew her out, startled her awake with the concern that someone was in the room with her.

  Her attention honed and she heard someone move. Fear gripped her for a moment, before she remembered her circumstances. Caius. He was here and he was moving. Why?

  Half rising, she opened her eyes, finding him sitting in a chair in the corner. "Caius?"

  "Go back to sleep," he said, barely louder than a whisper.

  "Is the floor too uncomfortable?"

  "No, it's fine. Go to sleep."

  She sat up fully. "What's the matter?"

  "I have dreams," he said. "I never sleep through the night."

  "You don't?" That wasn't how he’d used to be. He'd always been a heavy sleeper. Now he had dreams that woke him, every night seemingly. This must be a reaction to the things he’d experienced. Awful things she couldn't imagine. "Would it be better if you slept on the bed? I am prepared to trust your ability to restrain yourself."

  A smile spread across his lips, but she could tell he was tired. "No, honestly, it won't make a difference. I did seem to like the swaying of a ship, though. I found that soothing."

  "That is perhaps hard to replicate."

  "Maybe I should take a commission in the navy." He said it lightly as if it were a joke, but she frowned. So he could gather more awful experiences to plague his dreams? "I will sleep again. I just need some quiet moments. Go back to sleep."

  Laying down again, she tucked her hands under her cheek and watched him as he sat in the chair, turning his attention to the fire. What thoughts were he getting lost in?

  The urge to comfort him was still there, but if she tried, it would end up somewhere she didn't want to go, and then he would have more than hope to fire his intentions. And once that levy broke, she wasn't sure it could be boarded up again. Then where would she be? In love with a man she didn't want to love. She'd worked so hard to get herself to a state where she wasn't in love with him. She'd bled enough without doing herself new injuries.

  Chapter 30:

  ELIZA WAS UP BEFORE HIM, which wasn't surprising as he'd been up half the night. Much more awkward when someone was in the room with him. It had been a long time since someone had slept in the room with him. A habit he only indulged in when forced to in the more dire of circumstances.

  Her soft feet padded quietly across the room, trying to be quiet. But sleeping in dangerous locations with spies and assassins had made him react to even the slightest noise.

  "You don't have to tread softly," he said, but didn't open his eyes. For some reason, it had been a particularly difficult night and he was tired. But moving around, he would shake the tiredness.

  "I'm sorry," she said.

  "Are you hungry?"

  "Actually, I am."

  "I am sure Lord Sunderstone will put on a fantastic spread for breakfast. I think entertaining is him in his element."

  "He does seem to like having people around. Someone said there was a picnic planned today at some nearby lake."

  A picnic with these dreadful people, he thought darkly. There was nothing wrong with them as such, he just wasn't used to people anymore. Barking orders was comfortable, but it didn't suit a place like this. So in a sense, these few days had the benefit of forcing him back into normal discourse with people, although he was much more interested in a picnic for just him and Eliza.

  There was a sweetness in thinking of such things for just the two of them. He wanted to show her things, to see the wonder in her face. Some of that wonder had been lost from her and he regretted it.

  The sun was creeping in through the window and it looked set to be a clear, warm day. One of the last before the weather turned truly cold. Warm days and cold nights. He liked this season.

  "I'll dress and then I'll leave you to. Would you like me to call one of the maids to assist you?"

  "I haven't had a maid helping me in a long time. I probably wouldn't know what to do with one, but thank you."

  With a nod, he rose from his makeshift bed and stretched, then pulled on his shirt. He'd come back and refresh himself after breakfast, but for right now, he’d give her some time to get ready for the day. And himself a moment to be without her. There had been times during the night when all he'd wanted was to join her in that bed. His hands had itched for her, her softness and warmth.

  Leaving the room, he closed the door behind him and made his way downstairs. The servants were busy managing the house and he made his way out into the cool, fresh air and smoked some tobacco. It was a morning ritual that gave him a moment to plan for the day, and today was about Eliza, and the objective of getting them closer to where he wanted to be.

  Firstly, he wanted her to be comfortable in his presence, because she wasn't. Secondly, he wanted her to trust him, and she didn't. If those two things were achieved today, then it would be a marvelous day.

  The gardeners were out trimming, and in the distance, he saw grooms exercising horses. Coming from where he'd been, it was hard not to see this all as pointless. Gardens and racehorses—things that had no real bearing on life. But then he'd lived with such heightened stakes, it was hard to adjust to life back in England. It was also hard to stop himself from seeing this all as pointless.

  Some soldiers could never readjust to civilian life. It was well-known. They came back into the service again and again, and stayed well beyond their usefulness. If he failed at this, he would become one of them. He feared that he'd been ruined that way, left unable to fare again as a civilian.

  Walking, he enjoyed the fresh air and solitude for a moment, but breakfast was served soon and Eliza would come downstairs. Someone was moving inside and he wondered if it was her, but it wasn't when he walked in.

  Only a few people were awake for breakfast that morning, others likely recuperating from the night before.

  Eliza joined him and they ate with the others. Lord Sunderstone arrived and they talked about the arrangements for the day. Carriages had been organized to take them to the lake shortly after breakfast concluded.

&nbs
p; To Caius, a picnic seemed like the most inane thing one could do, but it was a day with Eliza, which was exactly what he wanted. And it was to his benefit that she didn't connect well with the women there, because if she did, she'd need him much less then.

  The wind had warmed considerably by the time they made it out to the carriages and it took yet another half hour for everyone to find a seat. Mustering ladies was a whole different affair than mustering soldiers, and he couldn't yell at them—as much as he wanted to.

  "I think we are both uncomfortable in this company," he said.

  "At least you are welcome. I am not," she replied. "I think they see me as a poor excuse for a lady."

  "Yet you are Lady Warwick."

  It was hard to pin her eyes and read her thoughts. She was being brave for being here, and he did feel a little guilty for her discomfort being to his benefit.

  It was a lovely drive, though, and they arrived at an idyllic looking lake, with trees surrounding it, reeds growing close to the shore and a grassy area. Even swans serenely swam across the still water.

  "Oh, it's lovely," Eliza stated, and Caius swore he'd build her a lake if that was what it took to convince her of returning to him. Unfortunately, it would have nothing to do with a lake.

  The picnic blankets had already been spread out, and there was enough food and champagne to keep them going if they were stranded there for days. Caius took a blanket at the edge of the group, and Eliza joined him. The women really were giving her the cold shoulder. On some level it annoyed him, because she was by far the better person, but he knew that women could be prickly when a new woman was introduced to the group. They played power games. Men did too, but through different means. And these were not Eliza's kind of games.

  "Do you wish to take one of the boats out on the lake?" he asked.

  "That might be nice," she replied and they rose. Three small rowboats had been brought over for their use and Caius untied one of them and helped her step inside. The small boat swayed slightly as he stepped in and took his seat.

  "I haven't rowed a boat since I was young, I think," he said, and moved them away from shore with strong, swift strokes.

  "It is quite lovely. They have little boats like this in Hyde Park."

  "I wasn't aware. I tend to stay away from Hyde Park. Too many people want to stop and chatter."

  "Is that so awful?" she asked with a smile. Was that the first genuine smile he'd got from her?

  "Yes," he confirmed. "If the conversation was modestly interesting it wouldn't be so bad. But gossip and fan-tailing, please spare me."

  "Perhaps we have both become ill-suited to this company."

  "I think so. Else we were only ever suited to each other."

  Her smile slowly melted away and she stared down at her feet. "I can't just pick up where we left off. I simply can't."

  "I am aware."

  "Are you saying you can?"

  He was quiet for a moment. "I'm not sure." This drew her attention back. From her perspective, he was perhaps contradicting himself. "I honestly don't know if I can settle. I am as uncomfortable and bored in their company," he said, nodding back at the shoreline they'd come from, "as you are. I have lived such a different life. Not one I particularly want to go back to, but I have found no balance here. You were my home here."

  "Don't say that," she said, looking down again. "It isn't fair."

  "No, it isn't. I know that as well as anyone, but it is nonetheless the truth. So if not with you, then I'm not sure I can stay."

  "You were quite happy to divorce me not so long ago."

  "I was driven by hurt and anger. And now I am not, but you still are."

  "And now you want to rekindle and simply forget about everything. It is deeply unfair you placing ultimatums on me."

  "It is not meant as an ultimatum. But I think you should know the truth. I cannot live here if you are here and living your own life, with another man."

  "That directly contradicts what you said."

  "I can only state the things I know and believe at the time. "

  "And now you have changed your mind."

  "I have simply understood my mind. Bickerley is yours, you can have it. The title, the money, everything."

  "It is not mine. I never wanted to be Lady Warwick."

  "You knew you eventually would be when you married me."

  Silence descended between them. It was fair to say she was even more angry with him now than she’d been when she'd arrived here. It wasn't an ultimatum; it was simply the truth. It could be said it was manipulative, a gamble even, but it was still the truth. Then again, a gamble included some kind of bluff, and in his bones, he knew he wasn’t bluffing.

  Chapter 31:

  WHEN SHE'D AGREED TO honesty between them, she might have agreed to more than she'd bargained for. Placing all this on her was unfair, but she also recognized in his eyes that he spoke the truth. Suddenly, she didn't want to be there, not that she’d really wanted to be there in the first place.

  A complete awkwardness had descended between them. How was she supposed to take that? In a way it was sweet, in the way she'd imagined romance as a girl. In reality it wasn't sweet at all. His comfort and ability to settle in his own home was down to her. As gravely as she’d been injured, she was responsible for his happiness.

  A part of her said that was simply part of being a wife, but that wife had been utterly discarded and dismissed, sent away unwanted.

  Caius rowed in silence now and they made their way back.

  "You ask too much," she said.

  "I know," he replied.

  And for a while there, she'd started to feel more comfortable in his company—likely because he was the only person there she knew.

  With a silent, bitter chuckle, she recalled that she'd used to think getting divorced was making her life complicated, but it was nothing compared to not getting divorced.

  What did he expect from her? That she relent simply because he was in an intolerable position. There was nothing to say he would settle even if she did. If she didn't know him, she would wonder if this was manipulative, but she knew it wasn't, she saw how awkward he was, how trying this all was for him.

  But she wasn’t responsible for him taking himself off to the end of the world and choosing the life of a soldier. She was innocent of that charge. More so than he was.

  Please let me off this boat, she thought. At least he was taking her back, rather than keeping her out there on the middle of a lake, a captive. The shore was coming closer.

  "I'm sorry," he said and she didn't know how to respond. There was a lot he was sorry for. There was a lot to be sorry for.

  Words had dried up for her. There was nothing she wanted to talk about. As she watched, the shore came closer and eventually came the tug of the small boat gently grounding in the soft silt. Caius stepped past her and onto the shore. There were a few steps to the shore and his boots allowed it.

  "Come," he said and reached for her hand. As she stood, he reached for her waist to lift her to shore. It felt both familiar and intimate, far more intimate than anything they’d done so far. Something perfectly normal for man and wife, except they weren't man and wife in reality. They were former, pretending not to be former in front of these people.

  The pressure of having to safeguard that assumption descended on her again. Out of the frying pan and into the fire, she thought. A very different kind of discomfort, but right now, she preferred this lie to Caius' truths.

  She returned to the blanket she’d sat on before, but Caius kindly gave her some space and was drawn into conversation with a couple of men talking some yards away.

  A plate of late-season raspberries had been placed down and she nibbled a few, the sweet juice exploding on her tongue.

  For a moment, she had to wonder if this was all worth it, all the discomfort of being here, but no, it was. Still, she didn't like it one bit.

  "Beautiful day," a man said as he sat down and lay back on his elbows.
Eliza barely remembered his name. Bertie, she believed. "We should enjoy days like this before winter sets in, shouldn't we?" He was speaking directly to her.

  "Yes," she replied, and she had to agree. Days like this should be enjoyed, and maybe she should focus less on the unfairness of it all and more on being grateful for the beautiful location she found herself in. How long had it been since she'd sat down by a lake and simply enjoyed the sun? Truthfully, she couldn't remember. The business had taken most of her waking moments. Mostly because she enjoyed it and found it fulfilling, but she had been a little remiss in taking time to enjoy days like this. "One sometimes forgets the seasons living in the city."

  "You live in London then? Not at Bickerley?"

  Clearly he knew Caius well if he knew the name of his estate. She hadn't realized.

  "No, I have commitments keeping me in the city at the moment." It didn't feel good stretching the truth, because the truth was that she had no plans on living elsewhere at all, even with Caius’ offer that Bickerley was hers if he left.

  "I suppose with winter coming up, London's the best place to be," the man continued. "My wife loathes London, so she waits until it is virtually unbearable before she joins me."

  "You are a city creature then?" Eliza asked.

  "I suppose I am. I do enjoy things a bit more lively. Caius used to be the same. Such a gregarious, happy person, but I have to admit, I don't recognize him anymore. He is simply not the easy-going man he was. You must find him much changed too."

  For some reason the statement felt like a punch to her gut, because it was true. Even Caius had just said that he couldn't get back to what he was. His time away had changed him so radically, he couldn't settle anymore. And he held hopes that she could provide the means for him to do so. Rightly or wrongly.

  "Are you alright, Lady Warwick?" he asked, suddenly looking concerned, which made her feel worse still. Something in all this pierced through a barrier she’d raised and she felt tears moisten her eyes. As much as she intellectually knew she wasn't responsible, how could she not feel so when he placed so much hope on her. She was the one not giving him what he needed.