Page 36 of The Seductive Love of a Lady
He went to the chest the decanter stood on and his palms pressed down either side of the silver tray. His head dropped in defeat. That cold, heavy lump of marble in his chest that some people called a heart, kicked.
He had hurt her irrevocably.
She had been stalwart for the last couple of weeks, ignoring his disengagement, and continuing to be kind, even though she spent hardly any time here. But he had started the game of going out. She was simply surviving it – as Caro survived Kilbride’s violence.
She is going to leave…Or certainly her aunt had been urging her to go.
I cannot lose her.
Standing straight, his arms lifted, his fingers clasped behind his neck and his head pressed back. He had a feeling her headache was his fault. He thought she would have stayed withher parents as she felt ill. The fact she did not implied she had come here to escape their urging.
This game of tug of war with her family was tearing her apart.
She had told him to leave her alone, and not to call her sweetheart.
Ah God.
All he had done by shutting her out was to convince her he hadneverloved her. Of course, she believed that; he treated her horribly now, behaving like the evil bastard people thought him.
Because that is who I am and she would have seen it in the end – she will go now or later.
But, I cannot let her go.
He sighed, his hands fell and he reached for the decanter.
I will make her want to stay.
The dinner arrived at six, and Drew sat down and ate alone. The maid arrived at half past the hour of seven. He sent her away, then settled in the chair where he had spent his nights of late, with the bottle of red wine that was sent up with dinner.
He looked at the chessboard, picked up a pawn and rolled it around in his fingers. In recent evenings he had sauntered around gambling dens alone, not gambling because he refused to waste Mary’s money. But he had wasted hours until he knew Mary would be in bed. Wasting the time he could have spent with the woman he loved.
What the hell was he running from?The chance of a perfect life.
The deeds to Caro’s cottage would be signed over to him in a week and then he planned to move her. He hoped she would be happy there.
And himself? Was he capable of happiness, of making this a good marriage? It was probably too late.
He had convinced himself Mary would find happiness without him. He was unsure of that now. She was deeply unhappy, and he was a heartless bastard, who had brought on her misery.
Neither of us are happy.
He had to try again.
A knock struck the door. He put down the chess piece and glass, and stood. What were the odds it was Marlow, ready to call him out to a duel?
‘Peter?’ Drew’s voice expressed his surprise. It was another man who had good reason to call him out.
Peter’s eyebrows lifted. ‘Are you going to ask me in, or am I no longer welcome?’
‘You may come in, but be quiet, Mary is unwell and sleeping.’ Drew stepped back, holding the door open.
Peter’s hands pressed into his pockets as he entered.
‘Would you like some wine, or brandy?’
Peter sighed. ‘Brandy. I need it. I thought you would send me an apology but you are clearly too pig-headed for that. So, I have come to hear it from your lips.’
Drew poured the brandy in silence and handed the glass to Peter, the image of Peter’s gloved fingers resting on Mary’s back in his head.
