Page 77 of The Earl Takes All
Although she was studying her gloved hands clutched tightly in her lap, she could feel Edward’s gaze on her. The words had spilled forth so much easier when she was walking back from the mausoleum. “I think I knew.”
“That I had no brandy?”
She delivered a pointed glare that had him sitting back as though she’d punched him.
“I see.”
“I’m not certain you truly do.” Taking a deep breath, she squeezed her hands until the bones ached with the danger of cracking. “I knew something was different. I convinced myself that Albert and I had both changed during the months that we were apart. That it was natural for someone who wasn’t in another’s company every day to forget exactly what the other person was like. That our memories become faulty with absence. But I know he would never have approved of my readingMadame Bovary.”
“He may have.”
“No, he would not have. He was quite prim in his beliefs regarding what was proper. He would not have welcomed my advances when he was taking a bath.”
“I think you’re wrong there.”
“No, you knew him as a brother. I knew him as a husband. I assure you he would have been shocked had I insisted upon pleasuring him during his bath. He was good to me. Kind. I never regretted marrying him. Never. I never didn’t want to be married to him. But sometimes—” She inhaled deeply, let the air siphon out slowly. “Sometimes, I remembered a long-ago kiss in a faraway garden. And I would wonder things a married woman shouldn’t wonder. So I told my husband that I didn’t like his brother with all his bad habits staying with us. It was easier than acknowledging that his brother caused a whirlwind of confusing feelings within me.
“When you returned from Africa as Albert, the way I felt around you was very different. I loved Albert. Love him still. I didn’t want him to be dead. It was easier to ignore the nagging doubts. And by being too weak to face the truth, I betrayed him.”
“You didn’t—”
“I did. I have spent hours at the mausoleum talking to him, explaining myself, sorting out my thoughts and my feelings. You must never doubt that I love him.”
“I don’t. I never have.”
She nodded. This was so damned hard. “The problem, you see, is that I fell more deeply in love with the man who recently shared my bed, helped me bring my daughter into the world. So to be completely fair and honest, I have to subtract the depth of my love for Albert when he left and acknowledge that what remains is yours.”
“Jules—”
She held up her hand. “Please don’t say anything yet.”
He bowed his head slightly, acquiescing to her request. That should have made things easier. It didn’t. “When you were ill, so dreadfully ill, when Dr.Warren told me to prepare myself, that my husband would probably die, because of course he believes you to be Albert... I thought, ‘How will I possibly go on if he dies?’ There was a part of me that wasn’t sure I would want to, and yet I knew I must for Allie.”
“I promised I wouldn’t leave you.”
Tears burned her eyes. “But I’d hurt you. I made you think I didn’t want you.”
“Still, I’ve yet to fall out of love with you.”
A horrendous sob escaped. She covered her mouth, looking at him through the veil of tears. “What are we going to do?”
Moving to the other end of the sofa so he was nearer to her, he held out his hand. She should get up now and leave, she told herself, end this madness. Instead she intertwined her fingers with his.
“I am the Earl of Greyling,” he said. “To the servants, lords, and ladies, that’s all that matters. The title. Whether it is held by Albert or Edward, they don’t care. You are the Countess of Greyling married to the Earl of Greyling.” He lifted a shoulder. “I don’t see that we need to tell anyone that it wasn’t my hand that guided the pen that signed the marriage contract.”
“That seems sordid, unfair to you.”
He squeezed her fingers. “If we acknowledge that Albert is dead, British law will not let me marry you.”
She breathed in a deep sigh. “Yes, I’m aware.”
“Any children we have will be bastards. I’ll never acquire an heir.”
Pulling her hand free of his grip, she folded her hands in her lap. “We need to end this now. You need to send an announcement to theTimesexplaining what has occurred.”
“And your reputation?”
“Doesn’t matter. You need your heir.”
