Page 9 of One Wicked Secret
She had not seen the coachman since her wedding day.
An unwelcome memory slipped into her mind. An embarrassing encounter where she had tried to encourage Daniel to kiss her during the journey from Chippenham to Henley.
He had closed his eyes, ignoring her while taking a nap. Yet when he’d repeated his marriage vows hours earlier, she had glimpsed a flicker of tenderness beneath his guarded gaze.
The marquess drew her from her reverie to convey his felicitations. “I wish I had witnessed the ceremony firsthand instead of hearing about it with the other unsuspecting fools in the ballroom.”
“It must have come as quite a shock, my lord.”
The marquess glanced at Daniel through dark, knowing eyes. “I’m disappointed Dalton didn’t tell me, but I’m notsurprised he married you. Even so, he owes his closest friends an explanation.”
She longed to bombard him with questions. Why wasn’t he surprised? Had Daniel spoken about her? She couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d been forced into this marriage—but was it true?
“Not now, Rothley.” Daniel opened the carriage door, said a swift goodbye to the marquess and ushered her inside. “Drive, Jarvis. I don’t care where. I’ll give you directions once I have them.”
Elsa straightened her skirts so as not to look at Daniel when he slammed the carriage door shut and fell into the seat opposite. She braced herself for another argument, but he took a plaid blanket from the box beneath his seat and draped it over her lap.
“It’s cold tonight.”
The kind gesture only added to her mental torment. “I’ve spent the winter at The Grange. The cold seeps through the walls and creeps through gaps in the doors. We were snowed in for a week at Christmas.”
Still, she had kept her nose pressed to the window, convinced he would visit his family for the holidays.
A muscle in his cheek twitched. Perhaps he’d heard her boiling contempt because he said, “I don’t want to fight with you, Elsa.”
“No, you want me to obey your commands.”
He relaxed back in the seat, his legs spread wide, the fabric of his trousers clinging to his muscular thighs. Daniel Dalton was the epitome of confident masculinity. Everything from his easy sprawl to his air of quiet dominance confirmed it.
“I need you to obey me.”
“I need you to take my virtue to save me from dying a spinster, but as you know, we’re often denied our greatest wishes.”
“You won’t die a spinster. You’re married.”
“Die a virgin, then.”
The flippant comment was meant to rouse a reaction. With a discerning eye, she studied his face, hoping to glimpse the fondness they used to share. But her blood ran cold.
Anguish clouded his eyes, a warning the problem between them would never be resolved. He didn’t want to kiss her wildly beneath an oak tree or make passionate love on a blanket in a meadow.
‘Out of sight, out of mind’ was Daniel Dalton’s new motto.
“I’m your wife, not your prisoner. I’ve rented a house in town on a short-term lease. Clara and I have made friends at The Burnished Jade and have no intention of returning to Henley-on-Thames.”
He leaned forward and calmly said, “It’s not safe for you here. It’s not safe for Clara. You once asked me to trust your judgement, and I let you ride Zephyr. I’m asking you to trust my judgement now.”
How could she trust him when an invisible gulf stretched between them? It was too late to build bridges. The damage was done when he left without an explanation.
She had wanted to spend her life pleasing him and believed he was different from other men. Now, she was stronger and wiser and had to make a stand.
“You have no reason to distrust me, Daniel, but I’ll never trust you again. Our marriage was over before it began. Now our friendship hangs by a flimsy thread.” The chill of loneliness swept through her, the visible shiver impossible todisguise. “Were you drunk when you agreed to marry me? I wish you’d warned me of your indifference. Eloping with Mr Carver may have suited me better.”
She expected a disparaging remark about Mr Carver.
But he shrugged out of his coat and draped it awkwardly around her shoulders to avoid touching her. The garment smelled of him. Heat from his body enveloped her like a warm winter blanket. It was the closest she would come to an embrace.
Only when he sat back and took a fortifying breath did he seek to clarify a point. “Carver asked you to elope?”
