“Why?” she persisted.
“Because I don’t trust that blackguard who calls himself anearl,” he thundered, his eyes darkening.
Ah. So he had been jealous of Ravenscroft. She was secretlypleased. Still, there were logistics to be considered. “What of my lady’s maid?She won’t know to find me here.”
“I’ll damn well be your lady’s maid for the night,” hegrowled. “In the morning, I’ll have her sent up for you.”
Another thought occurred to her just then, and she had toknow. “Do you trust me?”
His gaze searched hers. “I’m not certain,” he admitted atlast. “I’ve misplaced my trust far too many times, it would seem.”
Maggie was more convinced than ever that he and Nell hadbeen speaking of Lady Billingsley. A tiny sliver of triumph sliced through herat the thought. Perhaps his old and dear friend had not been the angel he’dbelieved her to be after all. And while Maggie couldn’t compete with a paragon,she could certainly compete with a mere woman. If she wanted to compete at all,that was, and she wasn’t entirely certain she did. Indeed, her brain was doinga fair job of convincing her that she ought not to, even if her passionateheart felt otherwise.
But in the end, she was tired, and giving in to a very smallbattle didn’t seem too foolish a decision. “Very well,” she capitulated. “Ishall stay.”
* * * * *
Early the following afternoon, they arrived at Denver House,Simon’s country seat. The visit was Maggie’s first, since they had wed inLondon and he had not even bothered to provide her with a honeymoon. Instead,he had run off to the arms of his mistress. It had been a cold revelation toMaggie, who had been naïve enough to believe her husband would treat her withthe respect she deserved. She had imagined settling into a comfortable life,getting to know her husband, exchanging pleasantries over dinner, raising a sonor daughter. She had not imagined abandonment or rampant adultery, though shehad been warned by her mother in advance that not all men proved faithfulhusbands.
Her mother, she’d discovered, had been woefully inept atwarning a young bride about the realities of a society marriage. Maggie wasassailed by an odd mix of feelings as Sandhurst handed her down from thecarriage and she took in the imposing façade of the home she’d never seen. Goodheavens. Her heart went to her throat. Lady Needham’s country house had beenimpressive indeed, but Denver House was magnificent.
She stared at the immense structure with its rows of windowsflanked by an east and a west wing at either end. Doric columns stretchedacross the front as if they were a row of soldiers at the ready. Twin curvedstairs descended to the gravel thoroughfare. Bas relief carvings decorated thestone walls.
The entire scene took her breath.
“Welcome to Denver House,” Simon intoned, his voice grave.
“Dear heavens,” was all she could manage. She had seen manya great building in London and New York, but this place was somehow differentfrom all the rest. She forced her gaze back to her husband, who watched herwith an impenetrable expression etched on his handsome face. “It’s unbearablylovely.”
“It’s a crumbling pile of familial rubble,” he correctedher, his voice cool.
She supposed that if she had been raised in such a structureshe too could have been unaffected by its charm. Her father’s townhouse in NewYork was grand, but not nearly as regal. “You don’t like it here?” she guessed.
“I will present you to the staff,” he surprised her bysaying, neatly skirting her query.
Although she knew she ought to be stern with him for nothaving brought her to Denver House before, she couldn’t help but be pleased byhis announcement. It was far too late in coming, and under all the wrongcircumstances, but she was once again choosing her battles. “Thank you. Thatwould be wonderful indeed.”
He offered her his arm, looking uncomfortable. “I’m aware itshould have been done well before now.”
“Yes,” she agreed, not allowing him to escape her censureentirely, for even though they had created a tentative truce, it hadn’t sweptaway a year of his bad behavior. “It most certainly should have.”
A wry smile curved his lips as they walked to the entrance.“You’re not the forgiving sort, are you?”
“Only where forgiveness is well-deserved.” She kept hervoice prim. She did not wish him to think that lovemaking was a panacea. Ofcourse she enjoyed the wicked things he could do to her body, but that hardlymeant she’d forgotten the stark realities of their union. Now that they wereaway from the dream world of Lady Needham’s party, it was easier for theirdifficulties to reemerge.
“Is there a way it can be earned?”
Their shoes crunched on the gravel in time. Despite her caution,she was enjoying this slice of life as it could have been for the two of them,as it perhaps would have been had he not already found love elsewhere. She hadto admit that she longed for the simplicity of companionship, the ease offriendship, that she knew some women found with their husbands. Was it too latefor her and Simon? She very much wished to believe that it was not, but shefeared the opposite.
Maggie considered his question then, forcing her mind to theconversation at hand rather than the emotions surging through her at this oddhomecoming. “Do you wish to earn my forgiveness? Truly?”
“You doubt me?”
Maggie chuckled. “Of course I doubt you. A year of absencedoesn’t procure a great deal of faith in a man, you know.”
“I daresay it wouldn’t.” He patted her gloved hand with hiswhere it rested upon his arm. “I admire your tenacity, my dear. It’s so veryAmerican.”
“Thank you,” she returned. “I suppose.”
