Page 65 of A Marriage of Convenience with a Rake
“I’m well.” Again, she could not make her voice sound warm or friendly. It sounded icy.
“Oh. Well, I just needed to tell you I had good news.” He sounded hurt, now, and Eleanor felt part of her heart ache, even though the other part, the larger part, was crying out in pain, confused and hurt and wanting to hit back at him.
“Good,” she said tightly.
“Don’t you want to know?” he demanded. “I rode all day to get back to tell you.”
“Tell me, then.”
“What in Perdition’s name,” Sebastian swore raggedly. “I tried my best! I rode straight back after meeting at the court. And I’m exhausted. Sorry,” he added, as Eleanor sobbed before she could prevent it.
“No,” Eleanor whispered. “No. I don’t believe you.” She was sobbing without being able to stop, unable to hold back her tears.
“What? What is it?” Sebastian demanded, going to her and holding out his hand. He took her hand in his again, but this time she could not bear it; she couldn’t bear to be near him and his lies. She snatched her hand away from his grasp.
“Please,” she whispered. “Please, just let me be.”
“Eleanor,” Sebastian whispered. “What in Perdition is happening? Why won’t you talk to me?”
“Because I don’t believe you anymore!” Eleanor sobbed. “I can’t trust you. None of what you’ve told me is true. Is it? Is it?”
Sebastian blinked at her in hurt and bewilderment.
“What do you mean?” he demanded. “What has happened?”
“You never told me,” Eleanor sobbed, unable to hold back a second longer. “You never told me you had got another woman expecting your child.”
She looked over at Sebastian, tense and unsure. She hadn’t meant to shout those words at him. She had wanted to keep the fact that she knew a secret; had not trusted him to be honest if she told him outright that she knew. She watched as his face paled.
“What?” he whispered. “But that was years ago, Eleanor. It was years ago.”
He tried to come and stand beside her, to take her hand, but she tensed, pulling her hand away.
“You should have told me,” she hissed. “The whole of London knows—no, the whole county knows. And I do not. You should have told me.”
“It was years ago,” he repeated softly.
“It still happened.” She looked at him without expression. “It happened, and I cannot trust you. Mayhap that is why I don’t matter to you.”
“What?” Sebastian blinked. “You do! You do matter.” He came to stand close to her again and Eleanor tensed.
“I don’t, Sebastian. You never wanted to wed me. You were never interested.” She sobbed. That was the worst part. He had never seemed interested in the way a man should be interested in the woman he was wedded to.
“That is untrue,” Sebastian whispered, reaching for her hand. She let him take it, her fingers stiff and cold in his own. “I want you, Eleanor. I need you.” He tried to lift her hand to his lips, but she drew back.
“You don’t,” she hissed. “You can go to this other woman for what you need, if that is what you need.” She pulled her hand away.
“Hell!” Sebastian shouted again. “I can’t! I can’t, Eleanor.”
She blinked at him. His face was twisted in pain and a small part of her was not sorry; wanted to see that.
“Why?” she demanded coldly. “Why can you not?”
“Because she’s dead.”
Eleanor stared. He was sobbing now, tears soundless as they ran down his cheeks. She swallowed hard, almost unable to take in the words.
“She’s dead,” he repeated. “She died eight years ago. She died having the child.”
