Page 96 of The Quiet Wife
“Then we shall say no more.”
Frances dabbed at her mouth with her napkin. “I’m not quite sure what you mean by that. Are you saying that we have reached that stage in our marriage where we each go our separate ways and ignore any… infidelities?”
He scowled, and she wondered why she was goading him. Perhaps she was tired of being treated like a simpleton. Tired of feeling unloved and unwanted.
“Each?”
“As I understand it, many couples in society do it once the family is complete. Take lovers, I mean. I presume Mrs Caldicott has such an arrangement with her husband?” she ventured.
He gripped his knife, and his knuckles went white. Her heart hammered in her chest, but she would not back down. She would not.
“You will not take lovers,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Ah, I see. But you will?” She paused as if to emphasise his hypocrisy.
“Damnit, Frances…”
“Well, perhaps you could contrive to see your mistress somewhere other than our home? Walking in on your naked backside parked between a woman’s legs is not an experience I want to repeat, nor would I ever want the children to have the misfortune of finding their father like that.”
She rose to her feet, shocked at herself for saying those words, but pleased she hadn’t let Frederick brush it aside as though his infidelity was nothing. But he leaped up and grabbed her arm so tightly she feared it would bruise. He shook her. Hard. Making her stagger and clutch at him for balance.
“How dare you,” he hissed, his face close to hers. “Howdareyou speak to me thus?”
She flinched, but something inside her held firm. “I dare, since you started flaunting your fancy piece in my face,” she managed.
He let go of her arm but grabbed her by the hair, making her stumble against him and clutch at his hand.
“I will not discuss this further. Understand? You will not speak of this again.”
“I understand. Let me go, for God’s sake, before someone comes in and finds us.”
He thrust her from him and sat back at the table, picking up his knife and fork and resuming his breakfast as though nothing had happened.
Edith and William came into the room, and after she had greeted them as warmly as she could, ignoring the curious glances at her hair which was askew, she hurried to find her sister to speak to her before Frederick could, her heart racing faster than her feet.
She ran along the corridor, clutching the back of her hair. Not only did it feel tender, but he had disordered it shockingly. She felt for pins as she went and tried to rectify it. As she did so, she ran headlong into Jemie.
She shrieked, but he held her steady. “Good morning,” he bowed politely.
She put a hand to her chest to steady herself. “Good morning,” she babbled, almost weak with relief it was only him.
“You are in an awful rush?”
She glanced around and nodded and spoke in a frantic whisper. “I need to get to Lizzie before Frederick does. He came looking for me last night and wanted to know why I wasn’t in my bedchamber. I said I was with Lizzie, so I need to tell her.”
He nodded, but his face was tense. “Your hair is falling down.”
“I know. I’m going to repair it just as soon as I find her.”
“What happened?” His tone was mild. Very mild. Too mild.
She swallowed. “I…”
“Is that a bruise?” He brushed a finger over the red mark on her arm left by Frederick’s grip.
“Jemie…” She opened her mouth and closed it again, taking a deep breath. “I had an argument with Frederick. It didn’t go well, but I simplymustget to Lizzie before he does. I promise I will tell you all later. Please, please do not say anything to him.”
His burning eyes were the only indication that he was blazingly angry.
