Page 3 of One Wicked Secret
“Now that I’ve settled the debt, I demand an annulment.”
The air left his lungs as he struggled to rouse his usual bravado. Arrogance would not temper her anger. To protect her, he’d have to lie through his teeth and compel her to return home.
Ignoring his friends’ confused stares, he captured his wife’s arm. “Excuse us. This conversation calls for privacy.”
“Don’t touch me,” Elsa hissed through clenched teeth as they moved through the crowd. She tried to tug her arm free, but he held her tightly to his side, his grip firm. “I thought the sight of me repulsed you.”
Another memory crashed into his mind. Her soft, golden hair splayed over a white pillow. The gentle rise and fall of her bare breasts as she lay sleeping peacefully next to thebody of a dead man. Blood coated her fingers. Crimson stains marred her thighs and the crumpled bedsheets, and the hunter’s knife on the nightstand.
That one wicked secret had started all of this.
He led her onto the terrace and scanned the garden for a place to hide. Hiding was a recurring theme in his life. But this woman was determined to drag them both out of the shadows.
“Where are we going?” She fought to yank her arm free.
“Stop struggling,” he growled, heading for the large oak tree at the bottom of the garden. “As your husband, I need a quiet place to remind you of your vows.”
“My vows?” Her derisive chuckle pierced the night air. “The audacity. You’ve broken all the promises you made to me.”
“Not all of them.” He’d sworn to care for her and provide every comfort. “You want for nothing at The Grange. You have a generous allowance and Clara for company.”
A sharp gasp escaped her. Thankfully, they reached the oak tree, and he pulled her behind the thick trunk.
Before he could say a word, Elsa jabbed him in the chest. “You lied to me, Daniel. You let me believe the trip to Henley was our honeymoon. I expected to live at Thorncroft, close to my brother, not miles from nowhere at The Grange.”
Guilt sat like a brick in his chest when he saw the tears threatening to spill. “I had urgent business in London.”
“So urgent you would leave your wife waiting in a candlelit bedchamber on her wedding night? I was so wracked with nerves I could hardly breathe. You took my dignity when you left without saying a word.”
He closed his eyes at the memory.
How long had she waited? How many times had she searched the house looking for him before waking Clara or finding his note?
“I explained why in my letter.”
The rider had arrived at his home in Chippenham with newsThe Aurorahad sunk off the Kentish coast. The other shareholders of Imperial Shipping had gathered in London, suspecting sabotage. But that’s not why he’d left.
“You could have taken me with you,” Elsa said, the deep lines on her brow a sign she desperately wanted to understand.
How did he explain she wasn’t safe in town?
How could he make her understand? She had been drugged and had no memory of the event that led to their hasty marriage.
“You would have been alone here,” came his next excuse. “I had to work with the salvage wreckers to recover the cargo.”
It didn’t matter to her; he could see that.
Nothing mattered but how badly he’d hurt her and the mistake he’d made in leaving her behind.
Had he married anyone else, he might have consummated their union, but he could not bed Elsa knowing he’d deceived her.
“You could have given me the choice, Daniel.”
“I couldn’t manage the wreckers knowing you were alone at home.” That much was true. “The Goodwin Sands are notorious for strong tides and shifting banks. One mistake could leave the men trapped beneath the wreckage.”
Amid the laughter and lively music from the ballroom, she stared at him. If she sought the boy who masked painwith mirth or the young man who nearly kissed her beneath an oak in the rain, her search was in vain.
“That was six months ago.”
