The Nuisance Wife

by Camille Oster

  "Excuse me," she said and quickly rose, feeling the need to escape, because she couldn't stop the emotions flowing. On quick feet, she rushed away from the group, needing a moment. A thicket of trees drew her and she hid in its shade, trying to get hold of the emotions that flowed unbid and unwanted.

  "Are you alright?" Caius' voice said. He must have seen her and come after her.

  With her fingers, she wiped her tears away. There was no point pretending she wasn't crying, because the evidence was undeniable. "I'm not sure…" she started.

  "Did Bertie say something to you?" Caius asked, clearly concerned.

  "No, nothing like that. It's just, this is all just a little overwhelming. I don't want to be here." With you, she wanted to say. This was just too hard, and whatever she did, she did something wrong. She couldn't be the wife he needed her to be. Forgiveness just wasn't in her right now. She couldn't just put all the hurt and broken trust to side and pick up where they’d left off. It just wasn't that simple.

  Caius winced. "So, not Bertie, then. No matter what I do, I can't seem to stop making you cry."

  "It's not…" she started again. Maybe he knew her well enough to read her, to recognize how she reacted to all this. What was there she could say to explain this, and her reticence? "You know, I’m not doing all this to reject you. I'm not even saying you don't deserve forgiveness, or maybe you don't. You are a victim in all this as much as I am, but I just can't… put everything behind me. I wish it was that easy."

  With eyes down on the ground, he listened to what she said. "Maybe we have talked too much about this for one day."

  That sounded imminently sensible to her, because she wasn't getting anywhere with it.

  "We've had words on the topic," he continued, "and I think we are better leaving it for another day, so for now, instead we should remember why we are here. The children in the workhouses. Convincing Lord Sunderstone will have a marked impact on their lives. That is the reason you are here."

  Absently she nodded, taking in his words. Yes, that was the reason they were there, and so much easier to focus on than the quagmire of emotions, hurts and injuries between them.

  His eyes held such assurance when she looked up into them. How could he at the same time be the source of all her unease and also a comfort for her ambitions? It was almost as if he did marvelously as her friend, but miserably as her husband.

  "Yes, you are right," she said, wiping away the last of the wetness from the corners on her eyes.

  "And also, I have to say, that although I hate that I am responsible for your frequent burst of tears, I have to tell you that you look adorable when you cry."

  Reaching out, she pinched his stomach, a familiar gesture she used to do when he teased her, and now it threatened a renewed wave of sadness, because those things where still there, along with all the hurt and badness underneath. It was what made this so hard to deal with, because she saw glimpses of her husband. But also, he had changed, as Bertie had noted. She saw that too.

  Chapter 32:

  CAIUS WAITED FOR ELIZA to arrive in the salon. Around him were as finely dressed people as he’d ever seen, and that included a number of people who hadn't been there earlier. Their party had swelled significantly with local gentry that Sunderstone had invited for the evening. It was labeled a party, but Caius expected there would be dancing involved, which made it far more than a party in his eyes.

  Right now, however, he waited for Eliza to arrive. She's had her opportunity to put her proposal to Lord Sunderstone that afternoon. She’d talked and the man had listened carefully, but with little indication as to where his thoughts were. Not a man to make decisions lightly, so he would likely mull it over, and Eliza wouldn’t have an answer until the man returned from France.

  Once she'd made her case, she'd had the good sense not to push further. Eliza was good at reading people, had a mind for business, which was probably why she'd done so well.

  After, she’d gone upstairs to rest. All in all, it had been a trying day for her and he hadn't really helped. Ahead of them was an evening of dancing and socializing, things he knew she wouldn't relish. Nor did he.

  His musings were disturbed by her walking into the salon, wearing her nicest gown. Her eyes searched for him and stopped when she saw him. As opposed to what he feared, she didn't seek anyone else and came toward him.

  "I hope you are well-rested," he said. "You look lovely."

  "I am rather severely underdressed." Her eyes searched the ladies around her and she was more simply dressed than the colorful silks and satins. Rather than a simple country dance, some of these ladies were dressed for a royal ball. But as the season hadn't officially started yet, they were perhaps eager to display their new additions.

  "Well, I don't think either of us have invested to any degree in our ball attire," he said wryly and received a smile from her.

  "No, honestly, I haven't planned on any balls, or attended any since… you left."

  "Then there is little disruption of my name appearing on your dance card." It might have been the wrong thing to say because she frowned and looked away. But he couldn't unsay it now. He seemed practically incapable of not saying things that reminded her of the ill things that had been.

  "I think I may be too rusty to dance," she stated.

  "Fine steps have not been a part of my life lately either, I must say. I think supper is being served," he said as he spied Sunderstone's butler entering the room. Eliza followed his gaze.

  They walked with the rest of the gathered party into the dining room, where the table had been extended and many more placings had been laid out. There was a congenial chatter going on as everyone settled into their seats. Eliza sat next to him this time.

  "Well, here you two are. You seem to be squirreled away somewhere together," said a woman whose name Caius couldn't remember. She leaned closer. "I wish my husband would look at me like yours looks at you," she said to Eliza.

  Eliza's cheeks colored. Perhaps it looked that way to others.

  "I suppose after so many years apart, you are like newlyweds again." The woman winked and laughed. It's been a pleasure to meet you. I do hope we'll see you both this winter. I will put you on my invitation list. We typically plan an evening around the second week in December."

  "Oh, that is very kind," Eliza said, her cheeks still colored, because she couldn't really say anything else. It was kind of the woman to consider them, even if Eliza had no plans of them attending anything together. And it may not be that he stayed in England. Trying to imagine a long winter with nothing to do but to dodge invitations left him feeling queasy.

  Fish was the main course and he enjoyed it. "The Chinese like fish a great deal, but their flavors are very different," he said after he'd finished. "We have more subtle seasoning."

  "Do you like the Chinese dishes?"

  "I do, but I’m not so proficient with their utensils. They have dexterity in their fingers that I cannot achieve."

  "It must have been interesting experiencing such a different culture. I find it hard to imagine."

  "It is a very established culture. They have their ways. On the whole, they are very friendly, but they are at the same time guarded. Family is important, and their relationship with the mystical. They're very superstitious. I don't entirely understand what their beliefs are, but everywhere you go, there's a shrine somewhere, in shops, residences, offices."

  Around them, everyone was rising, so it was time to walk across to the ballroom, which was some distance from the dining room. Music was heard as they got closer, and footmen held trays of champagne in glasses, availing them to anyone who wanted one.

  Taking two, he gave one to Eliza. She'd always liked champagne and sipped her glass. "I can't tell you how long it's been since I've had champagne," she said with a smile.

  "I suppose these evenings do have some compensations."

  "We must not be ungrateful," she chided. "Lord Sunderstone has been very kind to invite us. And hopefull
y he will conclude my proposal is beneficial."

  "You might have to make an appointment with him on his return from the continent."

  "Yes," she agreed. "But for right now, I think I've achieved as much as I can."

  "Does that mean you wish to leave in the morning?"

  She nodded. "Unless you want to stay."

  "Not particularly. My objective here has been the same as yours." On one level that was true, but it also didn't comply fully with their edict for honesty. "And also to spend some time with you."

  Color stained her cheeks again. It made her uncomfortable when he spoke about them and their relationship, and more often than not it ended in tears, which he didn’t want. Time to change the subject. "I believe Bertie has the aim of a dance with you. Here he comes."

  "Ah," Bertie said jovially as he joined them. "Splendid night, isn't it?"

  "Yes," Eliza agreed. "This ballroom is quite magnificent."

  "I do enjoy a ball. Caius was never that partial to dancing."

  "Really? I recall a time when he was," Eliza said, and there had been a time when he'd come to every dance there was for a chance to dance with her. Every minute they could steal together, they would. Every dance had been something he would wait for with pounding heart.

  "I was inspired," Caius said. "I only enjoy balls when Eliza attends." And that part was still true. He would attend every damn ball in the season if she were there. "Then again, if she were to go down a mine to dig coal, I would probably join her there too."

  "Ah, so there is the trick. You have changed him completely."

  Eliza looked lost for words for a moment. "He does have a way with words."

  "Does he?" Bertie asked. "I never found him so. I think you bring about this change in him. But even so, I will endeavor to steal you away from him for the span of a dance."

  "I would love to," she said with a smile.

  An irrational spear of jealousy shot through Caius as Bertie led Eliza away to the dance floor, particularly as Bertie had managed to get a dance and he hadn’t. But then he had been reticent to ask her.

  As he watched, she went through the steps, looking as elegant dancing as he recalled. How many times had he stood in a ballroom watching Eliza dance, wishing it was him she danced with? Once they’d gotten engaged, he could claim more than two dances, but for some reason, once they’d married, they hadn't attended many balls. Maybe because he'd had the prize he'd sought.

  Clearly she enjoyed dancing. He should have taken her to more dances. He should have kept people like William Garrick Castle away from her. How had he had such bad foresight? And then such lack of trust in her? Because he'd been devastated beyond reason, and reason had fled. Then he had fled.

  The dance finally ended. "I'm sorry," he said when she returned to him, "for not taking you dancing more often once we married. In that light, I must insist on the next dance."

  "Oh," she said and looked uncomfortable for a moment. She hadn't been uncomfortable as Bertie had led her on the dance floor, but he could see her nervousness now. Octavia appeared in his head, espousing what a good sign that was.

  His heart beat like it had used to whenever he’d led her onto the dance floor, her gloved hand in his. How he wished it wasn't a barrier between them, but then again, the barrier between them had little to do with a glove.

  The music flowed as did the steps, the currents of their movements. Nothing existed but her. Perhaps the unrecognized risk in all this was that he fell in love with her all over again, and would yet again be destroyed when it wasn't returned. Perhaps it was too late. There were no guarantees in either love or war. When it came down to it, all that could be was hope. And that was the position he now found himself in again.

  Chapter 33:

  THEY HAD BID FAREWELL to Lord Sunderstone the evening before, and he’d been merry with drink and dancing at the time, and had treated them like intimate friends. He'd also promised to see Eliza on his return to further discuss her interesting ideas. In her mind, she saw that as a hopeful development.

  Only the servants were up and their carriage waited patiently for them outside as footmen carried their trunks down. All others were still in their beds, recovering from the evening before that had extended well beyond the time she and Caius had retreated to their rooms. Luckily their room was quite far away from the boisterous ballroom.

  "Truthfully," Caius said as he sat down in the carriage after helping her get in, "I enjoyed last night more than I expected to. Attending a ball was the worst possible way I could imagine spending my time, but I did enjoy it."

  "You always enjoyed balls."

  "I enjoyed spending time with you, and that hasn't changed."

  Biting her lip, she looked down into her lap. "Thank you for bringing me here. I do appreciate it, and am glad to hear it wasn't too onerous." Her emotions were still so harshly mixed. One moment she felt happy, the next she was in the pits of despair. How could she get a handle on her emotions? This wasn't like her. She was a steady creature, who focused on the practicalities. But then she’d never been indifferent to Caius, and that seemed a state she couldn't reach.

  "Lord Sunderstone's parting words were encouraging," Caius said.

  Outside the window, the parkland was moving by at the swift pace of horses eager with morning strength. Perhaps they were curious about where they were off to, or they expected to return to Bickerley where they likely belonged. "Not a bad day for travel." It was cool and crisp, the air clear. Too warm for a mist, but only just.

  It was hard to find topics to discuss with him as they tended to veer straight to deep and painful sentiments, which left the weather and his travels. Every other topic seemed to tread on toes in one way or another, and she wished they could move away from that.

  "How is your brother?" she asked.

  "As of yet, he is unmarried. I believe Octavia is encouraging him to attend the season this year, but he keeps on sighing with discontent."

  "If he wants a bride, he has to go out and find one. I'm assuming if there is an appropriate girl nearby, he would have married her already."

  "Something seems to hold him back."

  It had been the same six years back when they’d been together. Something was holding him back then too, and she suspected his heart was engaged elsewhere. Some woman had his heart and he couldn't get it back.

  And there came a renewed wave of sadness, because in some ways, it reflected their own situation—unhappily in love. "Finding happiness isn't easy," she said, then wished she hadn't.

  "It takes certain leaps of faith." It was a statement very much directed at her. She'd leapt and she’d suffered for it. How many times had she wished she'd never met Caius? William Castle Garrick was one thing, but it was Caius that had turned his back on her.

  Not more of these emotions. "Mrs. Fisher, my housekeeper, says it should be a good raspberry season this year." For grasping for topics of conversation, that was an absurd one compared to heartfelt leaps of faith.

  "You always liked raspberry jam."

  How did he remember all these things, especially after he'd spent so much effort trying to forget her, according to his own admission.

  "I left because the worst thing I could imagine happened," he said, the statement taking her by surprise. They were having two different conversations vying for attention. Admittedly, her conversation was about the raspberry season, his was the deepest feelings in his heart.

  There was nothing she could say. Should she accuse him yet again of not having faith in her and assuming that stupid man's statement was true? What was the point?

  "Maybe I feared the power you had over me. Because one careless act would utterly destroy me."

  "But there was no careless act."

  "I believed there had been, perhaps I’d been waiting for the fear to eventuate."

  This was something new, something she hadn't heard before.

  "I feared being so vulnerable, and it felt as if the minute I was, I was punished f
or it. And yes, maybe I refused to look too closely. I just fled, because I’d already taken the blow. In some sense, I don't think it would have mattered if it was true or not. The blow was real, and I wasn’t strong enough to withstand it."

  Eliza blinked. She didn't know what to say, how to react to this.

  "I don't think I was ready to be your husband in every way it entailed. Don't get me wrong, I loved being your husband in terms of being in love and having a grand time, attending parties and the honeymoon—but everything else, the harder things, the blows. I don't think I had the maturity and wisdom to deal with them. I was too young. So when the first blow came, and it was a powerful one, I didn't know how to deal with it. Until then, the only things I worried about were losing poker games and incurring my father's displeasure."

  Silence descended within the carriage. Maybe this accusation stretched to her too. She’d been so absorbed with being victimized that she couldn't see beyond the wrong that had been done to her.

  And to be fair, her distance now wasn't because of offense that she’d been wronged, but because she couldn't trust enough to put her heart on the line. "I think it could be said, we were both too young to deal with the situation with maturity."

  "And we destroyed our marriage because of it." His words were harsher than hers, but yes, they had. “And now," he said slowly and she held her breath, because she wasn't sure she wanted to hear what he was about to say. "And now I wish to court you."

  "What?"

  "I wish to go to every stupid ball in London and put my name on your dance card."

  "You hate balls."

  "I never hated balls when I was courting you."

  How was it he always managed to leave her stumped for words? More importantly, how did she feel about this? It did circumvent the strife she felt at just picking up where they'd left off. That felt wrong and she couldn't just plow through that barrier, but courting? It had some possibilities. In her mind, she could almost imagine it.