“Fox. Please.” She approached him on careful feet. “Stop.”
“Why should I?” He pulled the bottle back and pivoted, pinning her with a baleful glare. “I understand I can’t help myself when up against whisky. I’m aslaveto its demands.”
Leah blanched, but then straightened her spine, pressing on. “Ye are better than this. Better than—”
“Than what?” he spat. “A drunkard? A souse?” He took another long swallow. “I don’t believe that I am. And neither do you.”
“Fox—”
“You say nothing to me of my drinking and your views. Yet, you confess every thought to your brothers. That is no kind of wife!”
Leah hissed in a pained breath. An actual physical blow would have hurt less than his words.
Because he was right.
She should have taken her concerns to him directly.
And she was no kind of real wife to him.
“Husband,” she began, “I am sorry that—”
“Enough,” he ordered, swigging again from the bottle. “I don’t need your apologies. You . . . you pester me with questions about my own past, while saying nothing about yourself, your own wants and needs. Why is that, wife?”
Leah froze, his words pinning her.
Because telling ye such things is embarrassing.
Because I dinnae trust yourself.
The thoughts winged through her, illuminating the stark truth—
She wanted Fox’s trust without giving him hers.
“No words then, wife?” he continued, downing more whisky. “I suppose this confirms your low opinion of me.”
“It isnae a low opinion. Rather, if only—”
“Leave,” he ordered, voice so cold. “I have nothing to say to you.”
“But . . . Fox . . .” She extended her hand.
“Leave. Me. Be!” he roared, taking a step toward her.
Frustrationhurtfearclogged Leah’s throat, but she respected his wishes. Lifting her skirts, she turned and left the room, shutting the door with a quiet snick.
But she stood in the hallway for a long while, her head pressed against the closed library door, tears silently falling to the stone floor at her feet.
Fox woke thenext day to the usual—headache, nausea, regrets.
But this morning added something new: the sound of Leah’s voice drifting upward from the courtyard below.
“Goodbye,” she called. “Safe travels. Give my love to Aileen. I shall try to visit once the baby arrives.”
He groaned and rolled over in his bed.
Of course. His wife was seeing her brothers on their way.
Fox should be at her side, waving them off with a smile and cheery words of goodbye.
