Keeping her back to him for fear that she would lose her nerve if she met his gaze, she drew a deep breath and said, “Yes, actually there is.”
The legs of his chair scraped against the wooden floorboards as he stood up. “What is it? Do you need another raise in your allowance?”
“Is that why you think I married you?” she bit out. Unable to keep herself from looking at him, she turned and caught a glimpse of confusion creasing his brow before he regained control of his expressions and the wall, the wall she so detested, fell into place.
“Are you feeling well?” His halfway unbuttoned shirt tightened as he leaned back against the edge of his desk, drawing Lynette’s eyes down to his bronzed chest before she forced herself to look up.
I will not allow myself to be distracted by physical attraction, she vowed silently. Not this time. This time I will say what I should have said the week after we arrived at Dunhill, and if he turns me away I shall heed Temperance’s advice and leave.
Except if she left, she had no intention of returning.
Ever.
It had taken her nearly all day, but she’d searched deep inside of herself and realized, after hour upon hour of agonizing self-reflection, that she couldn’t do it anymore.
She couldn’t pretend she wasn’t in love.
Couldn’t pretend Nathaniel’s nonchalance did not hurt.
Couldn’t pretend everything would magically get better all on its own.
She may have had everything she’d ever wanted - a beautiful home, a generous husband, a secure future for herself and her sisters - but she did not have the one thing she needed and without it...without it, what was the point?
By marrying Nathaniel she’d been able to provide for Temperance and Delilah, but what had she taught them by doing so? That material possessions were more important than love? That happiness could be bought? Well, she had learned the hard way that it couldn’t...and she’d also learned that no amount of dresses in the world could make up for what her relationship with Nathaniel was lacking.
Kindness.
Respect.
Love.
Those were what made a marriage work, not the amount of money spent on an allowance.
Lynette did not know what she would do if she returned to London, but she knew she would rather be a pauper on the streets than a wife to a man who was incapable of loving her. Unless Temperance was right...and Nathaniel did love her...but if he did, why had he never said anything? How could he be so sweet, playful, and attentive in bed and so very cold, emotionless, and distant outside of it?
She was tired of having two husbands, and tired of playing the role of two wives. The charade was beginning to break her, bit by bit, piece by piece. And she feared if something did not soon change, she would soon wake up alone to find herself completely broken.
“No,” she answered honestly. “I am not feeling well.”
He braced his hands on either side of the desk. “Is it something you ate?”
“No, Nathaniel, it is not something I ate.”
“Too much sun, perhaps?” he suggested. “You were at the fair for a very long time.”
“It is not because of too much sun! It is because...because…”
Green eyes taking on a seductive gleam, he pushed away from the desk and approached her with long, languid strides. “I know what will help,” he said as he trailed his hand up the length of her arm and sank his fingers into the nape of her neck.
“No that - that will not help! Not with this.” Twisting out of his grasp, she backed up until her shoulders hit the opposite wall with enough force to rattle a painting of Nathaniel’s grandfather, the sixth Earl of Townsend. “I - I do not want to make love. I want to talk.”
“Talk?” Nathaniel repeated blankly. “About what?”
“About everything!” she cried with a frustrated sweep of her hand. “About us. About the way we act around one another. Nathaniel, do you love me?”
The moment the question was past her lips she wished she’d never spoken it, at least not quite so soon, but there was no taking it back now. She watched with a sinking heart as Nathaniel’s entire body stiffened and he jerked to a halt halfway to her, large hands diving into the deep pockets of his trousers.
“I...have grown fond of you,” he said carefully.
“You should be fond of a great aunt. You should be fond of an acquaintance. But you should love your wife.” And he doesn’t, she thought bleakly. He doesn’t love me.
Thick eyebrows drawing together over the bridge of his nose, Nathaniel started to say one thing, broke off, and instead asked a question. “Where is this coming from? Have I upset you in some way? If so, I apologize-”
“Oh, hang your bloody apology!” Lynette cried, shocking them both with her uncharacteristic vulgarity. “The only thing I want is something you are incapable of giving.”
“Now see here,” he began as his eyes narrowed, “I told you from the beginning what this marriage would be and what it wouldn’t. You and your sisters have been well provided for. To be quite frank, I have been more generous with you than most husbands are with their wives. If you are unsatisfied with our arrangement-”
“Yes! Yes, I am unsatisfied. I - I thought it would be enough.” She gestured at the study with a broad sweep of her hand. “I thought this would be enough. I thought if Temperance and Delilah were well cared for and happy, it would be enough. But it isn’t. Can’t you see it isn’t? Can’t you feel it as well?” she implored desperately.
He drew his shoulders back. “The only thing I am feeling is your ungratefulness.”
A numbness descended upon Lynette. As her passion and fight drained away, she was left with only a sense of weary regret. “I am sorry,” she whispered.
“Good.” His jaw tightened. “You damn well should be. I have upheld my part of the bargain and for you to march in here and insinuate otherwise is ridiculous. If you want a higher allowance, you need only ask and save me the dramatics as I’ve no patience for a woman’s caterwauling.”
“No, you misunderstand.” Gathering every ounce of courage she had left, she forced herself to lift her chin and meet his gaze. “I am not sorry for what I have said. I am sorry I ever agreed to marry you.” With a tiny sob, she whirled and ran from the room.
Nathaniel let Lynette go.
He was too angry - and bewildered - to chase after her.
What, he thought with a disbelieving shake of his head as he crossed to his liquor cabinet and poured himself a stiff drink, the bloody hell was that?
If there was one thing he liked about Lynette - aside from her delectable little body - it was her cool, level-headedness and even temper. Yet the woman who had just stood before him ranting and raving about love had been anything but cool and level-headed. What the devil had gotten into her?
Swallowing the scotch he’d poured himself in one fiery swallow, he promptly poured himself a second glass but did little more than swirl the amber liquid in absent circles as he began to pace back and forth across his study.
The only thing I want is something you are incapable of giving, she’d said.
But what did she mean?
He had given her everything she’d asked for and truth be told he’d enjoyed doing it. There was nothing he enjoyed more than to see her pink lips curve in a smile. To hear the musical sound of her laughter. To watch the corners of her eyes crinkle in delight. But that did not mean he loved her.
Or did it?
Nathaniel stopped short as disbelief lifted his eyebrows.
Had he done the unthinkable? Had he truly fell in love with his wife?
Despite what he’d said, he was more than fond of Lynette. The damn woman had entranced him from the first moment they’d met. He found her witty, challenging, and far too intelligent for her own good. She was also kind, patient, and endearing; three things he most definitely was not. She had the power to bring out the best in him. And, he admitted with a twist of his lips, the absolute worst.
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Was that love? Was love having someone accept you for your strengths and your weaknesses and accepting them in return? Was it wanting to wake up next to them every morning and fall asleep beside them every night? Was it desiring more for someone else than you did for yourself? Was it the constant thought of them, even when they were only but a few feet away? Was it a yearning to have them close, to touch them, to kiss them, if only to inhale their scent and feel the warm softness of their skin?
If so, then maybe he was in love.
Even though he didn’t want to be.
Love had never been part of the agreement. It wasn’t in the plan. Not in his and, he’d thought until she’d come storming into his study ranting about their marriage, hers either.
“If she does love me,” he muttered into his scotch, “she has a bloody interesting way of showing it.” Tilting his head back, he drained half of his second drink in one swallow and set the glass aside on his desk with an audible clink. There would be little use talking about it tonight. He’d never been able to abide a woman’s tears, and Lynette’s eyes had been filled with them when she’d fled.
Tomorrow, Nathaniel decided as he rubbed his chin where he’d allowed three days’ worth of stubble to grow. Tomorrow they would have a conversation. A reasonable conversation. He would find out what she wanted - because at the moment he hadn’t a clue - and he would give it to her and they would continue as they had been.
Content, amicable, and courteous.
The perfect marriage.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Annabel said you were in here. What are you doing?” Entering her bedroom without knocking, Nathaniel scowled fiercely at the trunk set on the foot of the bed and the dresses Lynette was carefully folding within it.
“I am returning to London,” she said calmly.
“The hell you are!” Stalking across the room he grabbed the dress she was holding and threw it to the floor. It was, she noted, the most emotion he’d displayed since they had spoken their vows.
After a night spent restlessly tossing and turning, her mind was made up and she wasn’t about to let her husband change it. She may not have wanted a separation, but she needed it. She needed time to clear her head and the space with which to do it. She’d already told Temperance, who would tell Delilah when she awoke.
It was still early in the morning. The sun was just rising in the pink, hazy sky and dew clung to the grass, sparkling like diamonds. Like a coward, she’d been hoping to sneak out before Nathaniel awoke but she hadn’t counted on Annabel’s nosy nature. The girl was an absolute dear, although how she seemed to always know everything about everyone Lynette hadn’t a clue.
“I have already arranged for a driver and a carriage to take me home.” Looking away from Nathaniel, she knelt and picked up the dress he’d discarded. It was a simple rose colored frock with old fashioned lace trim; one of the half dozen dresses she’d brought with her to Dunhill and hadn’t had the heart to throw out even though she had not worn it since last autumn. It paled in comparison to her new gowns and the hem was sagging, but she refolded it as though it were a priceless treasure before carefully tucking it inside the trunk. The last time she’d worn it, her parents had been alive. The last time she’d worn it, she hadn’t been in love...but she had been happy. Oh, there was the scandal to contend with, but without knowing the full extent of her father’s debts she’d been blissfully unaware of the troubles that would soon seek her out. Now she had a dozen dresses to replace it. Dresses of fine quality that fit her body like a glove. Dresses with hemlines that did not sag. But she wasn’t happy in those dresses. She wasn’t loved in those dresses. And more than anything else, Lynette desperately wanted to be loved.
She wanted the knight-in-shining-armor she’d dreamed about as a young girl. She wanted to be carried away in a castle in the clouds and told how important she was. How precious. How dear. She’d thought the love and happiness of her sisters would compensate for that which she lacked, and in some ways it did, but not in the ways it mattered most.
How could she spend the rest of her life with a husband who was fond of her? One who looked at her and did not see a woman he loved, but rather one he’d married out of obligation and because it had been the practical thing to do. Well, she was done with being practical. For once in her life, she was ready to be fanciful. She was ready to listen to her heart instead of her head.
And her heart was telling her to leave.
Not because she had hope Nathaniel would come chasing after her - though it would be a lie to say she didn’t wish that would happen - but because when she was near him, she couldn’t think of anything else. He clouded her judgement. Made her do things she wouldn’t ordinarily do (their bedroom activities were proof enough of that). Caused her to hope, with every wayward glance sent her direction, that today would be the day he showed her some sign of outward affection. Some sign that he cared. That she was more than an obligation. More than a practicality. More than the woman he’d married to right a wrong his brother had committed.
So she needed to get away. Away from Nathaniel. Away from the pull he had on her. Away from the influences of her sisters. For the first time, she wanted to be alone with her own thoughts. For the first time, she wanted to put her needs first.
“You are not leaving,” Nathaniel said flatly. Crossing his arms over his chest, he glared down at her, the muscles in his jaw tensing as he clenched his teeth.
“In fact I am.” Continuing on with her packing as though he weren’t towering over her with the face of a storm cloud, Lynette began to pair together her shoes. “I know the Season will be upon us in a few weeks, and I shall return before then, but I do not yet know exactly when.” She looked up when she felt his hands close in a vice like grip around her upper arm. “Please let me go, Nathaniel.”
“The hell I will.” Instead of releasing her, he spun her around and dragged her against his hard chest. “Are you running away because of our fight last night?”
Because she was weak, Lynette inhaled his familiar scent and let her fingertips glance off the sturdy curves of his ribcage before she stiffened and drew back. “No,” she said with a shake of her head. “I am leaving because I need space.”
The edges of Nathaniel’s nostrils flared as he exhaled. “Space,” he muttered, turning away to drag a hand through his hair. “She wants space.” His eyes burned a bright, tumultuous green when he whirled to face her. “You are living in a bloody manor! Is it not big enough for you? Is that it?”
“No!” Lynette cried. At her sides, her hands curled into fists of frustration. “I - I do not care how large our home is or how many necklaces I have or - or how many horses are in the stables! All I want is you, Nathaniel. I have come to care for you a great deal. I - I love you, Nathaniel.”
Silence fell between them. Cold, hard silence.
“Please say something,” Lynette whispered, her eyes luminous with unshed tears. “Please.”
“You love me,” he said at long last.
“Yes I do. I-”
“Then why are you leaving?” He raked her up and down. “If you love me, why are you stuffing everything I have given you into a bloody trunk?”
She opened her mouth to explain, only to close it again with a soft murmur of dismay. Feeling her emotions was one thing, but being able to put them into words was quite another. “Because - because you do not feel the same way about me.”
His head canted to the side. “Have I not been a good husband?”
“You have, but-”
“Have I not given you everything you’ve asked for and more?”
A single tear slid down her cheek, glistening like a drop of dew in the early morning sunlight. “Yes, however-”
“And it still is not enough,” he said harshly. “One fight, one small disagreement, and you decide to leave me. Is that your brilliant solution? Well I may not be the husband you want, Lynette, but you are not acting like the wife I married.”
“Bec
ause I am not her!” she burst out, desperate to speak before he cut her off again. “I am not sweet and docile all of the time. I - I have feelings and moods and emotions, just like everyone else! And I know you do too, even though you refuse to show them. But I need to know how you feel, Nathaniel. I need to know that you want me.”
“Of course I bloody well want you,” he said with an annoyed shake of his head. “I married you, didn’t I? Lynette, what the devil is this all really about?”
Her shoulders slumped. “If you do not know, then I cannot be the one to tell you. Goodbye, Nathaniel. My carriage is waiting.” Shutting the lid of the trunk, she locked it closed and slid it off the bed and onto the floor. It was bulky, but not heavy, and she was able to lift one handle and drag it out of the room and down the hall. The entire way she kept expecting Nathaniel to stop her. To yell at her. To do something. But when she dared to sneak a glimpse behind her the hall was empty.
Biting her lip to stem the flow of tears - how tired she was of crying! - Lynette dragged her trunk down the stairs one step at a time. A footman met her at the landing and carried it for her out to the carriage that was waiting at the top of the stone drive. Stopping only to slip on a concealing wide brimmed straw bonnet and a warm shawl to ward off the early morning autumn chill, she hurried out the door and down the steps. At the bottom she hesitated, but did not turn, and with a small, sobbing gasp she stepped into the carriage and slammed the door.
Hands braced against the sill with so much force his knuckles gleamed white, Nathaniel watched Lynette’s departure through her bedroom window. When he saw her pause he unconsciously held his breath, muscles tightening beneath his jacket as he waited for her to come to her senses and return to the manor. But to his disbelief she climbed inside the carriage and within seconds it took off down the drive, pulled by a high-stepping bay with a flashy white blaze.
For an unknown amount of time Nathaniel remained at the window, staring out through the glass at a stretch of road just visible through the trees, waiting in vain for a glimpse of the carriage.
For the Love of Lynette Page 18
