“Eleanor!” His vision had blackened with his rage as herealized the depths to which she’d sunk. She had been cruel, had hurt Maggie.“Eleanor, goddamn it, show yourself.”
She refused. He knew which chamber she’d been assigned,neatly solving the immediate problem of giving her a tongue-lashing. Withoutbothering to knock, he threw open the door. Eleanor was seated at a writingdesk but she stood hastily at his entrance, her eyes wide.
“Sandy, whatever is the matter?”
“You can dispense with the pretense of your innocence,” hehissed, crossing the room to her and only stopping when he feared he may becapable of grabbing her arm and hauling her out the door. “I know what you’vedone.”
“Are you not pleased?” She frowned at him. “I’ve only made itapparent to the silly cow that she has no place here.”
He had not been so enraged in a very long time. He clenchedhis fists and took a breath, forcing himself to calm. “She has every placehere. She is my wife.”
“In name only,” Eleanor protested, her voice soundingsuddenly fragile.
But Simon was unmoved. “Indeed, Eleanor. Just as you havebeen wife to your husband. If he beats you, then you should not return to him.But you will need to find another roof above your head. You cannot remainhere.”
“I beg your pardon?” Her already wan complexion had goneeven paler.
“You must leave. I cannot countenance your machinations,” heexplained, realizing he had erred in ever allowing her to stay when she hadfirst arrived. She had ever been a weakness of his, and he had pitied her,still moved by the tender feelings he’d had for her. But he should have urgedher to seek other shelter. He had been too bloody stupid to see it.
“You love me,” she protested, going to him and placing adainty palm on his chest. “You’re simply angry. I only did what I thought youwished me to do. You mustn’t permit yourself to feel sorry for her.”
He shook her touch away. “No, Eleanor. I do not love you. Idoubt now that I ever did. Nor do I think you love me. We were two peoplesearching for something bigger than ourselves, naïve enough to think we’d foundit.”
Her expression disintegrated before him. “How can you be somerciless?”
“I might ask the same of you, madam,” he reminded hertightly.
“Are you truly taking up the cudgels for that woman?”
Yes, damn it. He was. Over the course of the last month, hehad learned quite a bit about the wife he’d ignored. She was a poet, a wildlover, a kind heart. She hadn’t deserved to be thrust into the position inwhich he had placed her. That much he knew for certain.
“I am,” he said at last, feeling as if he had just taken upa cause in a civil war. “I have to, Eleanor. You made your choice a long timeago, and now I have made mine.”
“How could you?” Her hands fluttered about her as if theywere lost butterflies before she pressed them to her mouth.
He had the uncomfortable impression that she was stifling asob. He didn’t want to hurt her either, but she had left him with a decision tomake. He didn’t know what would come of his marriage with Maggie, but he didknow they were inextricably linked for the rest of their lives. He didn’t wanther to disappear from his life.
“I’m sorry,” he managed, the rage seeping from him as if hewere a torn sail. “I’m going to find her, and when I return, I want you gonefrom here. You may take my carriage.”
Tears slid down her cheeks in earnest now as a sense offinality weighed upon the moment. “Where shall I go? Billingsley will not takeme in now.”
He didn’t believe her. “I never asked you to leave him,” hereminded her, his tone gentling as she continued to weep. “You chose yourfate.”
“He chose it for me,” she argued.
“No.” For Simon knew differently. He would have doneanything to keep her, run away with her to the continent if he’d had to do so.He had told her as much then. She had still walked away. “You chose it. I beginto think you aren’t at all the woman I believed you to be.”
“But I love you.”
“You also lie. Frequently and without compunction.” Heforced himself to think of Lord Needham and her early indiscretion with him.How many others had there been? Likely, he would never know. “I will alwayscare for you, Eleanor, but our time together must be at an end.”
“You’re throwing me over?” Disbelief clouded her voice.“Truly? You would be so callous as to chase after her and toss me out as if Iwere no better than rubbish from the dustbin?”
“Not rubbish,” he corrected her. “Merely my past. I must gonow. I hope when next we meet it shall be as friends.”
He didn’t wait to hear her response. He left the chamber,determined to find Maggie if it was the last thing he did.
* * * * *
