“When? You left for an entire year last time, and you only returned when your position was threatened. Is that what it will take?”
“No. Not anymore. I will come back because you are here, and I will not allow so much time to pass regardless of what happens.”
She was quiet for a moment, and he hoped it was because she believed him. He had every intention of returning to her as soon as he could, and it was not because of the issue of his title. His only reason for coming home as soon as he could was because of Anna and how much he wanted to be with her.
“Well,” she said, her face softening, “what if I were to join you? If it is your family that you are going to see, then that means they are my family too. I would like to meet them.”
He was hoping she would not ask. She could not accompany him, and it was for a reason she would loathe.
“The family that I am seeing does not know that I am married,” he explained. “They believe that they are my only priority, and so if I appear with my wife, it will be too much.”
“They do not know about me? Then it is no wonder that they expect you to arrive as and when they please. Perhaps, if you tell them that we are married, they will understand that you have other things to do.”
“That is not how my… situation… is. They will be furious with me for allowing a woman into my life, and it will only cause trouble.”
“So you will never tell them about me, is that it? Will I always be your secret wife that you only see when it is convenient?”
“That is not how I see you, and you know it.”
“Do I?”
They looked at one another, Spencer not knowing what to say to her. There was no excuse for what he was doing, even if it was what had to be done. He would miss her terribly, and each day that he was in the north, he would await his return, but he did not know what he would be confronted by there. All he knew was that it was urgent, and he had already put off his departure.
“I will return soon,” he promised again. “And I will write to you when I can.”
He went to kiss her, but she turned away. She was hurt, and he wanted to help her somehow, but there was nothing that could be said or done to persuade her that he was not trying to cause her pain.
As he boarded his carriage, he looked back to see if she had come to wave him away, but she had not. He was looking at a closed door, his wife on the other side of it, and his chest throbbed as he realized that he might not see her for a while.
He also wondered if she had worn the nightgown deliberately, to give him a final reminder of what he was leaving behind. If she had, she would have been successful, for he could not stop thinking about it. He imagined the satin in his hands as he unraveled it, peeling it away from her and discarding it, exposing her soft skin and exploring every inch of her.
He shook himself, remembering that he was going away for something important, even if it no longer felt as urgent as it had the day before. Sophia was in danger, and though he did not quite know what it was, he knew it had to be important. She did not write to him if she had no need to, even though her situation was dire enough that he was almost always required.
The journey was endless, and it became repetitive quickly. The trees were all the same, and the sky remained the same sad shade of gray throughout. He longed to be in his parlor room by the fire, Anna lying on the floor beside him and looking at her with her hair a mess and her cheeks stained. She understood him in a way that nobody else ever had, and forgave him more than she ever should have, and in return, he had hurt her again.
He wished that he thought of her less. He wished that, when he returned, he had found her repulsive, so that he would not have felt such desire for her. He craved her, body and soul, and that did not ease as she grew further away.
When he arrived, it was the middle of the night. They would likely be asleep, and though he did not want to intrude, he did not know what else to do.
“Shall I take you to an inn, Your Grace?” his footman called out.
“I do not believe that will be necessary,” he sighed. “If it is as urgent as it seemed, I ought to enter now.”
But he wanted to go to an inn. He wanted one more night away from such dreadful obligations. A part of him wished he had lesshonor than he did, so that he was able to say that it was none of his concern and continue to live as he pleased, but he could not help but blame himself in part for what had happened.
He opened the door and exited the carriage, making his way to the household. It was small and old, not at all fit for a duke, but it was enough. It was a place where he would not be recognized, which was exactly what he needed.
Entering the household, he felt the cold breeze against his skin. He had left provisions for the fire, but it was clear that it had remained unlit. He was furious, knowing that whatever the issue was, it was likely connected to that. Without finding the housekeeper, he made his way to the sitting room, lighting the fire and standing in front of it, wishing it were his own.
“You are here,” a voice came behind him.
It was stern and demanding, and he bristled at the intrusion. The gall of the woman, to speak to him that way when he had made his way there as quickly as he possibly could have!
“Your greeting could be kinder,” he said as he turned to face her.
“And you could remember that you have left me in a terrible situation,” the lady grumbled, blue eyes dark. “We need you here, Spencer.”
“I am needed there, too. You know that I have other duties besides you, Sophia.”
