Marigold sniffed. “Neither do I.” Although she would rely on the income from Reggie and Matthew’s trust until she could sell her jewelry and find another way to support herself. That thought and the precariousness accompanying it made her stomach twist.
She’d been content with loneliness before, when her association with the marquess meant living on the knife’s edge of doubt and desperation, her body primed for flight and exhausted by it. Now, with that danger extinguished, she was unbalanced, adrift, longing for the ballast that would stabilize her. But she wouldn’t admit it,wouldn’t give into the urge to attach herself to something larger simply so she wouldn’t have to carry herself. She would stand on her own now, no matter how much missing Archie threatened to cut her at the knees.
Lily took a long sip of her tea and set the cup down with enough force to send some liquid sloshing over the porcelain rim. “I’ll send him away. Whatever he’s up to…”
Marigold studied her sister, saw the pull at her mouth and tension in her jaw. “Is that what you want?”
“Of course not.” Her lower lip trembled, the closest to vulnerability she’d seen in her sister’s expression yet. “I didn’t choose to be lonely. It was thrust upon me. At least you chose your independence.”
Marigold nodded, shifting as an unpleasant ache, one that had been thrumming steadily behind her sternum since she left Archie at the courthouse, took up its insistent throb. She’d chosen her fate by ending her marriage, but even more so by pushing Archie away. The frustration she’d felt in the hearing had allowed the warped coils of self-doubt and fear to send her back within her protective walls. Permitting someone in her heart meant relinquishing control, leaving herself vulnerable. Freedom would keep her safe, but could she stand being lonely now that she knew the alternative?
“I’m frightened,” Marigold said, the words breaking something loose in her chest. “Of moving to London, the b-boys in school, of being alone.”
Lily’s lips flattened. “I am, too.” She chuckled, took a petit four and ate it in two bites. “Look at us, trying to show the world howbrave we are when all we’ve done is make ourselves miserable with loneliness.”
Marigold’s throat burned, and she pressed her eyes shut to battle her tears. For all the strength she’d needed to fight for her divorce, she’d been too cowardly to fight forherself, the unexpected and rare love she’d found with Archie.
And he loved her. Respected her too much to question her decision, to force her into something she didn’t want.
When she exhaled, her breath caught in a choked sob that made Lily’s brows shoot up. “I d-don’t want to b-b-be lonely,” she managed, and her sister reached across the table to take her hand.
“Do you have to be?”
Marigold shook her head, a stilted laugh breaking free as her mind leaped forward to how she could fix the mess she’d caused. “No. B-but I need your help.”
Lily’s lips pulled up on one side. “Anything. What is it?”
Marigold winced. “I need you to t-t-teach me more about rugby.”
Chapter 38
“Youlooklikeshite,Grant.”
Archie shot a glare at Owen and ran a hand through his unruly curls, likely sending them into more disarray than they’d been before. The Rovers’ manager wasn’twrong; when his mother set him straight and he returned to York, he’d been shocked to find a flurry of cases waiting for his attention. Every day in the three weeks since the divorce hearing ended had brought a fresh case to his door, some divorces, but many more from women looking for someone to take their claims seriously. His already long hours had gone even later into the night, but he found himself fulfilled by his work, eager to see the results of his labor play out over the next few months.
But despite Jasper’s cajoling, he’d been too drained to attend rugby practices or the most recent game. Personal grooming, sleep, and recreation were far from his top priority.
That spot was reserved for lamenting the loss of Marigold from his life.
But in a moment of weakness that morning, Archie had agreed to travel to Rotherham to practice with the Rovers, and Jasper volunteered to drive them in his barouche with such alacrity that Archie became immediately suspicious.
Jasper chuckled at Archie’s side, and Archie scowled. “Remind me why you’re here?” he asked.
His assistant straightened his hat and gazed over the pitch. “I’ve always enjoyed rugby.”
“Youhaterugby. You call it barbaric, inhumane, sadistic—”
“People change, Archie.”
Archie heaved a sigh but didn’t argue, lacking the willpower. When he’d watched Marigold leave, his ribcage had cracked open, and it remained that way, split and bleeding, raw and vulnerable. He doubted it would ever heal, and he hoped it wouldn’t, because the pain was a memory of her, one piece he still claimed. To remind him they had been real, thatshehad been real.
She must be on her way to America by now, her life in England sealed up and buried, left to rot in the Yorkshire countryside alongside the memories of their affair. Soon he would have to move on, stop hoping to see her around every corner, wishing for the laughter of her boys or the touch of her hand.
“Oy!” Owen cried, breaking into Archie’s morose thoughts. “Are ye goin’ to stand around wool gathering all day, or are ye goin’ to play?”
His teammates barked their laughter and, despite the lingering ache in his head and chest, he ran over to join them. Several men patted him on the back, as though his pain was visible on his skin, and a momentary peace settled in his bones. His heart may be shredded to ribbons, but he would find joy in this, in his friends and his sport, in his work, his mum and sisters. Marigold would forever haunt him, but perhaps the memory would someday become a pleasant one, something he could reflect on fondly as the time he’d fallen in love, only to lose it with his impulsive actions.
The early September sun beat down on them, and before long his skin was striped with mud and sweat, and the first smile he’d known in weeks spread across his lips. He braced his hands on his knees as he bent over, savoring the burn of his lungs and throat as he fought to recover from the strain of the last play.
