Page 85 of Secrets of the Marriage Bed
‘Alistair, please. Do not lie to me.’
He rose to his feet and leaned over the table hands planted flat on the surface. ‘How dare you, madam?’
She flinched at the ice in his tone, but rose to face him. ‘When I told you I was barren, when you said not to worry, I thought you were being kind. That you were offering comfort. But that wasn’t it, was it? The other night when you—’ She made a circle with one hand. ‘You don’t want to even try for a child with me, do you?’
He shook his head. ‘I do not.’
She sank back on her chair, the pain in her heart making it hard to draw breath. ‘Why?’ she whispered. ‘Is it because of what I did? Where you found me? You are ashamed.’
He looked shocked. Stunned. ‘Certainly not.’
The pain eased a little. ‘Then what?’
He closed his eyes briefly, then stared up at the ceiling. ‘I already have an heir of my body.’
The words made no sense. Nor did the anguish in his gaze. ‘You have an heir? You were previously married?’ Why had he never mentioned this? Why not so much as a hint of having had a child? She frowned. ‘My child would not supplant your previous issue.’
He gazed at her, his face a mask of bitterness, his eyes like shards of ice. ‘I have never been married. Any son of yours would supplant Jeffrey.’
‘Your nephew?’
‘My son.’
Her stomach fell away in a sickening lurch. The dissolute Duke. No woman had been safe from his seduction. All the rumours battered at her mind. He’d played his own brother false. ‘That is...awful.’
She struggled out of the chair, stumbled blindly for the door. How could he? She turned back. ‘You never intended to wed.’
He held himself rigid. ‘No more than you did.’
What a fool she had been to hope that this marriage could be better than her last. ‘I wish I had never met you.’
His lip curled. ‘I suppose you would have preferred old Lord Pefferlaw to have won the bidding that night?’
A low blow. She straightened her spine. ‘It might have been a whole lot better than ending up with you. At least I would have known where I stood. At least he wouldn’t have pretended to care.’ At least he wouldn’t have stolen her heart and then walked all over it.
She stalked out where she ran the gauntlet of three hovering footmen and a worried-looking Grindle. They must have heard the anger in their voices, if not the words.
Finally, in her chamber, she gave in to the anger coursing through her veins. And the despair.
She threw herself on to the bed and struck her pillow with her fist. Damn him. All the time she’d had this faint little hope he was beginning to care for her the way she cared for him, that perhaps caring might make a difference to her ability to conceive. What a joke. He cared only for the rights of another woman’s child.
Worst of all, how could she blame him for trying to do his duty by his son? Jeffrey was an innocent in the whole horrid mess.
Reality lay heavily on her chest. They were married and there was no way out.
For either of them. Bleakness filled her heart.
* * *
The old adage, be careful what you wish for, certainly seemed to hold true in Alistair’s case. He’d started off wanting to keep his wife at a distance and now she barely spoke to him. Day by day what little accord they’d found in their marriage was withering on the vine.
And while he’d hedged her about with the footmen he trusted, he’d been riding around the estate day in and day out in hopes of flushing out his enemy.
He handed his reins over to Jaimie, who gave him a look of exasperation, but since the man’s previous admonitions about overdoing things after hisaccidenthad gone unheeded, the man merely shook his head and went off to walk the horse out.
Once indoors, Grindle met him with an envelope. He didn’t recognise the seal. Something ornate with a ship in the middle and cherubs blowing trumpets. He did, however, recognise the return address.
At last! Word from Lewis. Now he would know the identity of his enemy.
