“Surely Searle cares for you, at least in some fashion,” Freddy argued then. “You seemed so happy on your last visit, and then you left for your honeymoon. I had such high hopes for you.”
“As did I,” she admitted, dejected. “I am hopelessly confused, for I have lost my heart to him…or at least, to the side of him he showed me in the last fortnight. It was a different Searle, Freddy. He was tender and sweet, as if his only task in the world was to please me. I felt as if I had come to life for the first time in his arms. Does that sound foolish?”
“Not at all, darling.” Freddy shook her head. “It sounds like what a wife ought to feel for her husband. Indeed, it soundspreciselylike the way I feel whenever I am with Mr. Kirkwood.”
Somehow, her friend’s revelation only increased her sense of dejection. “But what you and Mr. Kirkwood share is a true and real love. What I shared with Searle was one-sided, built upon lies and manipulations. He only married me so he could provoke Alessandro into dueling with him and gain his revenge.”
“Revenge is an ugly and dark beast, is it not?” Freddy asked quietly, her expression pensive now. “But if you will recall, Duncan and I fell in love under similar circumstances.”
That much was true. Mr. Kirkwood had been determined to gain vengeance against the father who had abandoned him in his youth, and in so doing, he had used Freddy to gain what he wanted. In the end, he had done everything in his power to win Freddy back.
Leonora swallowed thickly. “But you and Mr. Kirkwood were in love. Searle does not love me. I am not even certain he cares for me.”
“Angry as I am at him for his mistreatment of you, I cannot help but to wonder, Leonora,” Freddy surprised her by saying. “I think back to the manner in which he was aiding you at the ball. He seemed genuinely concerned for your comfort. And knowing you as I do, I am certain you would not have fallen in love with a man who never showed you any kindness or affection. Surely you had inklings that he cared?”
Her friend’s words gave her pause, made her search through her mind for a re-visitation of all her interactions with her husband. He had made love to her for the first time with gentle care and beautiful consideration. He had gifted her the Searle rubies and told her she was an angel. He called her Leonie, and his kisses melted her. When he made love to her, he worshiped her—there was no other word for the glorious manner in which he made her body come to life.
How could the Searle she had come to know in the last few weeks be the same man who planned to destroy her?
“I…” she allowed her words to trail away, realizing she had no idea of the manner in which she ought to answer Freddy. Had Searle given her reasons to believe he cared for her?Yes.Had he also betrayed her brutally?Yes.“I do not know what to think or believe or trust, Freddy. As terrified as I am that he fooled me, I am more afraid I fooled myself. That I was so desperate for the husband and family I have longed for, I was too blind to see what was plainly before me.”
“No.” Freddy’s response was as instant as her frown. “You are not to blame for the situation in which you find yourself. Searle is.”
“But I am a fool, am I not?” This time Leonora could not contain her tears. “Because I love him still, even after realizing what he has done. I cannot simply stop my heart from feeling.”
Her misery rolled through her, pouring out as sobs. How could she love him after his betrayal? How did he retain the power to make her so weak? Why did she long for him, even now? It made no sense. Her heart was a confused, hopeless mess.
Freddy sat beside her on the settee, drawing her into an embrace. “You are not a fool, darling. Searle is. Shall I box his ears for you now?”
She hugged her friend tightly, sniffling into Freddy’s shoulder. “No.”
“Are you certain? I would like nothing better.”
A laugh bubbled up inside her. Ridiculous, but there it was, levity in the midst of great sadness. Only true friends could accomplish such a feat. “Thank you, but no. If anyone shall box Searle’s ears, it will be me.”
Freddy’s hand moved over her back in a soothing circle. “Very well, I shan’t box his ears. But I do have a different tactic in mind. One that, if Searle feels for you the way I suspect he does, will put an end to this duel nonsense. Do you want to hear it?”
“Yes.” She sniffled. “Oh dear, Freddy. I do believe I am leaving an indecorous stain of tears and, well, perhaps even snot upon your sleeve.”
“I do not mind, my darling,” her friend assured her. “That is what friends and sleeves are for. Now, do listen to my plan…”
*
Morgan returned toLinley House just in time to dress for dinner.
He had gotten thoroughly sotted with Monty, and then the two of them had engaged in a bout of sparring in Monty’s ballroom rather than Gentleman Jackson’s, which left him in possession of a bruised jaw. Monty had fists like great, meaty ham bones. Morgan was not nearly as quick-witted and responsive when he was in his cups. The result had been disastrous.
But, as his valet Carr shaved him—Morgan winced when the man’s razor skated over his freshly bruised flesh—and then helped him to slip into evening wear before tying a cravat at his neck. He had to admit he felt strangely numb. Almost as if he were trapped within the body of a stranger, going about his day, no inkling of what he ought to do or where he should be.
Because all he wanted to do was seek out Leonie. It was a dreadful impulse; one he would be wise to banish with as much haste as possible. But there it was. He was at home, and somehow, home had come to mean his wife. His body ached for hers. His heart thrummed for her. His eyes had looked for her everywhere.
He did not even know if she was at home, for his pride had not allowed him to inquire with Huell. And if she was, he knew without a doubt she would not deign to dine with him. But he had nowhere else to go. No social engagements, for he had begun summarily refusing all invitations sent him following his marriage to Leonie. The social whirl was not for him, and he had only suffered the various balls and musicales he had endured because he needed her as his bride.
He did not wish to go to the club, for Kirkwood would likely have heard of his actions by now. Morgan did not doubt his wife had instantly run to Mrs. Kirkwood’s side upon her return to town, divulging everything. Which meant Kirkwood would either toss him out on his arse or challenge him to a second duel.
Both of which he deserved.
He thanked Carr and dismissed him, lingering for a few moments in the dressing room of his chamber, staring at himself in the looking glass. He scarcely recognized the man looking back at him. Jaded, harsh, all ugly angles and tired skin, he looked weary. And angry.
