Page 41 of To Tempt a Scandalous Lord
“But that is good news,” she whispered.
“Yes, all very promising for the home, for all that I’m annoyed. But then I see you here,” his gray eyes roved over her face, “and I can’t help but fear you’ll let your passion, your ever-clever tongue, alienate these potentially beneficial contacts.”
His words shot ice through her veins, and Alicia clamped her teeth together to hide how her chin trembled.
“I just need some space, Alicia.” He pivoted to stare out the window again, leaving her staring with watery eyes at his back. “I am trying to save my bid for Prime Minister, whilst dealing with a contentious committee. I do not have the time nor inclination to tend to my marital problem as well.”
She was amarital problem. It pierced her pride. Herheart. It was like a twig striking a beleaguered dam, and Alicia jumped up before all her tears burst through her barriers and cascaded down her face.
“Well, allow me to bother you no further. I will keep to Campbell House and leave the home to you.” Donning her dignity like a cloak, she curtsied. “My lord.”
When she entered the foyer, Alicia found she did not have to summon her carriage for it awaited her on the curb.
Charlotte appeared out of a side door, her expression gentle. “I took the liberty of calling for your conveyance. I hope it was the right thing to do.” She grasped Alicia’s hand. “The walls are thin, my dear. It was impossible not to overhear.”
Pressing a hand to her mouth, unable to speak as shame choked her, Alicia eventually nodded.
Stepping forward, Charlotte wrapped her in a hug. “Marriage is hard, even for those of us who’ve done it before. Don’t let this conversation define the entirety of your union.”
Alicia hiccupped by way of response.
Releasing her, Charlotte offered a gentle smile. “I’ll visit on the morrow. Until then, be kind to yourself.”
Alicia jerked her head in thanks, and walked outside at a sedate pace. Once she was seated on the squab and the carriage was rolling down the street toward Campbell House, Alicia finally allowed herself the luxury to cry.
…
Niall stared at the closed door his wife had disappeared through, his emotions in tumult and his thoughts a scattering of dust tossed about on the breeze. He’d done it again. And she’d run offagain. Only this time with tears in her beautiful eyes.
This was supposed to be a marriage of convenience. Scandal had brought them together and their marriage was to protect their good names whilst they continued to lead their separate lives. As a future duke, family was a matter of duty, not of love.
But Niall had utterly failed to acknowledge that he’d never viewed Alicia as anything resembling a convenience.
In truth, he’d desired her, coveted her from the first, and suppressing his incessant draw to her taxed his patience. His resolve. This bewitching woman haunted his thoughts to the point that he could focus on little else. Niall had barely comprehended a word shared in his committee meeting that morning, and accidentally forgotten a lunch he had scheduled with an elector because his mind had been absorbed with the haughty lift of her brow and the curve of her lips.
Worse still, he’d overheard a group of gentlemen at his coffee shop joking about how he’d been a bit absentminded since his wedding. Then one had shared how Matthews had mentioned the new Lady Inverray fancied herself to be politically shrewd, so perhaps they could expect her to be writing his proposals from now on.
Just thinking about the exchange made him want to put his fist through something.
Niall tugged on his cravat, desperate to relieve the pressure building in his chest and up his throat. Why did his raw emotions come roaring to the surface wherever Alicia was concerned?
Had he really raised his voice to her? Had he truly called her amarital problem? It was no mystery why the color had bled from her face, and her exquisite brown eyes had grown shiny. The sight had cut Niall to the quick. That he had replaced the sparkle in her gaze with sadness made him a veritable villain.
Before he could wallow in his contrary emotions, a knock at the door reminded Niall where he was. Taking a quick moment to straighten his person, he called, “Come in.”
Lady Firthwell’s dark head appeared around the door. “If you’re not busy, my lord, I had hoped you could spare a moment to visit little Edith MacLean. She’s taken ill recently, and her sister mentioned it would bring her cheer to receive a visit from you.”
Edith was sick? Why had he not been told?
Probably because you were arguing with your wife, his traitorous mind told him.
Illnesses were not uncommon in a house full of children, but it always made him uneasy when a youngster fell sick, especially when it was a wee lass like Edith.
Smothering the tumult of emotions erupting in his chest, Niall nodded. “Of course.”
“I’m sure she would appreciate it.” Lady Firthwell gestured to a door down the hall. “Mrs. Simpson can escort you. Since I’m expecting, I promised Finlay I would avoid any ill children.”
“Very wise of you.” Niall offered her a polite bow. “I best see to our little patient. Hopefully it’s just a bit of the ague.”
