Page 65 of Unseen

“I could not bear to wake you.” He crossed the room to my side, and took my face gently in his hands. “You looked so beautiful as you slept. And you were no doubt exhausted after our wedding night.”

“I was.”

He brought his lips down to mine, kissing me softly, and that same flutter wafted through me, the ache for his tenderness. He released me, giving me a wide smile, and took his place at the head of the table.

“I’m very sorry to attend business so soon after our wedding, beloved, but I’m sure you understand there is much to be done.” He reached over and took my hand, planting a soft kiss upon my knuckles. “You shall have my full attentionon our honeymoon.”

“You mentioned that.” I poured him a glass of red wine. “You truly intend to take me to Spain?”

“Indeed. You’ll love it.” He took a swig of his wine, and leaned back in his chair. “Away from dreary London at last. We leave on Monday. A ship will take us to Calais, and from there we go south on the rail.”

“I shall have Mary begin to pack my things then.”

“And what did you do with yourself on this lovely day?”

I took a swig of wine to delay answering, placing the glass back on the table and clearing my throat. “I, uh, well. I received a letter from my aunt.”

Azriel raised an eyebrow and grinned at me. “Aunt Adelaide, how lovely. No doubt wishing to send us her salutations, and well wishes for our marital bliss?”

“She intends to come and see us. On Friday. I think it best that you not be here when she arrives.” I met his gaze, just as the door opened and the maids hurried in with dinner. “So I may explain to her.”

“You think she will object to my presence?” Azriel’s eyes flickered to the maids as they set about serving food onto our plates. “Surely as the man of this house I should be there to receive her.”

“I disagree.”

The maids paused for a split second, quickly resuming their duties and scurrying from the room.

Azriel’s eyes stayed on me, narrowing as he took up his glass of wine again. “You mean to hide me from your aunt?”

“I am not hiding anything, I am simply trying to navigate an exceedingly difficult situation.”

“An exceedingly difficult situation. What a loving description for our marriage.” Azriel laughed and loosened the tie at his collar. “Though I suppose it is rather apt.”

“We have to be careful.”

“Of what?” His self-assured smile met me over the edge of his glass. “Your family?”

I lowered my voice, my eyes flickering to the door for a moment, certain the maids were still there with their ears pressed to the wood, desperate for a scrap of gossip to take below stairs with them.

“They may yet contest the marriage, Azriel.” I found myself reaching across the table to take his hand, squeezing it, hoping he would understand just how serious the situation was. “They have grounds. This union is illicit. They may seek to have it dissolved.”

Azriel looked down at our joined hands, lifting his thumb to clasp my fingers. “You have such beautiful hands, Evie. So delicate. So unassuming.” He lifted his eyes back to mine. “I had always wondered, did you drug my father that night?”

My eyes widened and I tore my hand away from him. “Hush!” I hissed, glancing over my shoulder at the door. “If you want to lose any leverage you might have, then please continue. But know it will end with me dangling from a rope in Newgate.”

“You know very well that is not an outcome I desire.” He leaned closer to me. “But then I suppose you must do all you can to convince your aunt that a dissolution of our marriage would break your heart, would leave you and your family destitute, and that you all have no choice but to accept me back into the bosom of the family, or be left penniless.”

“Yes thank you, I have the script well rehearsed in my head,” I spat back, snatching up my wine and downing the whole glass. “My god, you’re a monster. You know I actually had someone sing your praises to me today? Telling me that you’re really a good man underneath it all?” I scoffed, wishing I could smash the glass into his stupid face, which now broke into an amused smile.

“Did you now? I cannot imagine who would be singing such high praises of me, vagabond that I am.”

“And the worst part of it is, I almost believed it. I think I wanted to believe it.” I scowled at him. “I wanted to believe there was more to you than… than… this.” I gestured at him with a sharp wave. “This arrogant, self-assured, cynical prig of a man. I wanted to believe that maybe somewhere under there, you were good.”

“I am not a good man, Evie.” He shrugged. “I have never pretended to be a good man. I have never aspired to be one. My father was a good man.” He practically growled the last words of that sentence, his face darkening. “Oh yes, such a good man, an admirable man. A man of high esteem with nothing but a useless son and a string of dead wives for comfort.”

“Your father wasn’t a good man either.”

“I suppose that depends entirely on your definition of what a good man is.” He leaned on the table on his elbows, gazing at me intently. “Tell me, what praises were sung in my name today? What good deeds have I been accused of?”

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