“Why?Will you apologize?And how long do you intend to stay?I’ll have Goodings make up a room for you.”
He took that in with a souring expression.“May I sit, please?”
She extended a hand toward the far Chippendale chair, then pulled her dressing gown close about her.
He took it.His gaze went round the room, the yellow Chinese wallpaper filled with dragons and butterflies bringing surprise and humility to his face.
The decor of her bedroom was a cheerful resurrection of some of the best artistry he’d seen in Shanghai.The dragons breathing benevolent fire as the butterflies of pink and yellow danced about the larger ugly creatures were a whimsical allegory.He’d forgotten the details of the story of how the dragons had saved the butterflies, but it was a Chinese fable that told how the strong often saved the weak and the weak one day showed their greater strength to save the strong from themselves.
Just as Ada had saved him.
They belonged together and he’d suffered pangs of despair without her.Visions of her came to him at night when he was alone and fraught with doubts.He hungered for her company, her bright hair and dancing eyes, her humor, defiance and her spark.At times, he could even taste her on his tongue.Just to think of her made him swell with need.Even to contemplate satisfying himself left him hollow.He never tried.But he’d had to do without her because until two days ago, he’d had no definite means to reclaim his dignity and their reputations, let alone reclaim her as his wife.
“I have read daily of your triumphs here.You’ve been busy.”
She acknowledged that with a slow nod.
He licked his lips.“The vicar of All Saints wrote to me last week, praising your tea party and your beauty.”
“Kind of him.Do men of the cloth notice women’s looks?”
“A man would need to be blind not to see yours.”
She pointed a finger at him.“A silver tongue.”
“And true.”
She inhaled, shaking off the compliment.“Are you here for the day or—?”
He could take the train back tonight, but he didn’t want to.“I’d hoped that you let me stay.”
“Oh?”She arched a brow.“Why not return to London or better yet to Paris?”
He felt the chill from four feet away.“I went on business.”
“So I understand from the papers.With my brother, no less.Did you have fun?”
“No!Not without you.”
“Can you imagine what I had to say here?That you were off, away—” She flung out a hand and tears dotted her lashes.
He squeezed his eyes shut a moment.This was horrid.He’d known it would be.But nothing for it but to go on.“I know I’ve caused you so much heartache.But I had to work night and day to figure out how to survive.How to earn enough money to keep you and the girls.”
“Mustwe be rich?”
He clenched his hands.“No.But we must have dignity.I must have it.I was raised with it, born to it.One cannot leave off needing it.You must see that.”
She dropped her gaze to her hands.“I do.”
“Oh, Ada, forgive me for all this.”
“There is no need for it.We both were sullied by Richard’s actions.Never apologize for another’s actions.Certainly, not his.”
“Very well.”
She glanced at the clock on her mantel.“Tell me your news, will you?I’ve much to do before the guests arrive.”
He had such high hopes this morning that she’d welcome him, hear him out, give him a chance to show her that he could succeed, could change their lives and their marriage for the better.“Perhaps I’m too late.”
