Page 82 of Six Nights to Marry a Marquess

For the first time in days, Thedore managed a smile. “It would be my pleasure to do business with you.”

They went on to discuss some terms and made plans for the commencement of their venture. This deal was the final salve his wounded finances needed, a crucial step toward stability. If only he could salvage his heart the same. Now more than ever, he wished he had his wife in his life, her presence a missing piece that no amount of business success could replace.

When Asmont took his leave, Theodore sighed. He was supposed to annul the marriage as he told Agnes he would, but he could not bring himself to. In his heart, she was his Marchioness. His study door opened, and when he looked up, expecting Thompson, he saw Harriet.

“The Earl’s visit is a blessing since it finally got you out of this confounded study,” Harriet was anything but pleased.

“A blessing in more ways than one,” Theodore agreed, managing a weary smile despite the tumult churning inside him.

“What are you doing, Brother?” she asked, her brows knitting together in worry. Her gaze, sharp and probing, seemed to look right through him. “Where is your wife? It’s beenthreedays. You’re like a mad man in this house. And she hasn’t responded to any of our missives,” she added, her voice rising with each word.

“It is for the best, Harriet,” Theodore said, trying to sound convinced. But his voice faltered, betraying the uncertainty that gripped his heart.

“Have you seen your state, Theodore? That is for the best?” she asked in equal parts disbelief and displeasure, her hands on her hips as she faced him squarely. “And I have no doubts Agnes is in a similar state. What is wrong with both of you?” She threw her hands up.

“I’m trying to protect her, Harriet,” Theodore lost his patience as well, his voice rising slightly.

“From what?” His sister asked, her tone softening, pivoting from confrontation to concern as she sought to understand the root of her brother’s drastic actions.

“From myself, Harriet. I am trying to protect Agnes from the man that I am,” his exhaustion suddenly manifested in his voice, each word heavy with a burden he had long carried alone.

“Theodore...” Tears suddenly sprang to Harriet’s eyes, and she mellowed as well, her earlier frustration dissolving into empathy as she truly comprehended the depth of her brother’s turmoil.

“I do not want to hurt her, Harriet. I do not want to subject my wife to what our mother went through,” he finally admitted, the raw honesty in his voice revealing the fear that gnawed at his heart.

“You are not our father, Theodore. Don’t you see?” Harriet took his hands in hers and squeezed in reassurance, her gaze intense, willing him to believe her words. “You are far from who he was. And you willneverbe him. Do not allow this to make you lose the most important part of your life. Do not let his memory take your wife away from you, Theodore.”

Life without Agnes was unfathomable. He could not bear the mere thought of it, the emptiness it suggested. He did have a heart that could love, and it belonged to her.

He rose. “Thank you, Harriet.”

“Tell me you are going to bring her back home,” Harriet called after him as he walked toward the door, and he only smiled.

CHAPTER 37

Theodore knocked on the door, and the Richmond butler opened it promptly. He was surprised to find Anthony in the foyer, standing with an air of casual waiting that seemed slightly out of place.

He quirked a questioning brow, and his friend responded, “I am waiting for my wife. She’s inside with yours.”

For some reason, Theodore felt quite optimistic upon hearing this. And it took a lot to rein himself in from marching into the drawing room, and sweeping his wife into his arms. The mere thought of seeing Agnes, of being so close yet so far, stirred a tumult of emotions within him.

“Is all well, man?” Anthony asked him, noting the tense set of his shoulders and the slight edge in his stance.

“You look like hell,” his friend went on to observe, his tone blunt but not without concern.

“Suffice to say I have been the veriest fool,” Theodore responded, his voice tinged with regret and self-reproach. It was a rare admission from him, one that spoke volumes of his current distress.

“I knew you would do something like that,” Anthony shook his head, a wry smile flickering on his lips. “You best rectify whatever the situation is,” his friend advised, clapping him on the shoulder in a supportive, if somewhat chastising, manner.

Theodore nodded his agreement, feeling the weight of his friend’s words. He knew he had much to make amends for, and the anxiety of not knowing how Agnes would receive him gnawed at his resolve.

The butler, who’d gone to announce him, finally returned. Theodore felt a combination of anticipation and anxiety rush through him at the sight of the man, each step the butler took toward him seeming to echo in the spacious foyer. His hopes went plummeting, however, when he spoke.

“Her ladyship says she is indisposed,” the butler announced, his voice neutral but carrying an undertone of finality that made Theodore’s heart sink. The word ‘indisposed’ hung heavily in the air, a polite barrier that felt like an insurmountable wall between him and Agnes.

“Perhaps she did not get the message properly,” Theodore said, hearing both hope and desperation in his voice, sending the man back to her with a slightly urgent tone.

When the butler returned with the same message again, Theodore found himself unable to accept it still. His heart sank further, the weight of each denial heavier than the last.

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