It was difficult indeed to take a man seriously when he was holding a square of linen over his mangled, bleeding nose.
“Of course she is her own person,” he snapped. “That has never been in dispute. However, the fact remains that she ismywife. Not yours, Sidmouth. Nor will sheeverbe yours. There will be no case. Neither will there be a divorce.”
Nell turned her back on him, facing her paramour. “Come, my darling. I will take you somewhere else so I can tend to your poor nose.”
“You will not.” Jack moved forward, catching Nell’s elbow and staying her when she attempted to shepherd her lover from the room. “You are going nowhere with him.”
She reeled as if he had struck her. “How do you dare, my lord? You lied to me, betrayed me with my own friend in this very house, and then you abandoned me for three years. I will be damned before I allow you to take my happiness from me.”
Her happiness?
Fucking hell.
“And I will be damned if I allow Sidmouth to take my happiness fromme.” Because she was his happiness. She always had been. She always would be. Even if seeing her now, understanding that her hatred for him had only grown in his absence instead of lessening, nearly proved his undoing.
She would always be the only woman he had ever wanted.
The only woman he had ever loved.
“Your happiness? In making me miserable?” she asked.
“There is no need for further violence, Needham,” interrupted Sidmouth before Jack could respond.
“What are you saying, Tom?” Nell looked up into her lover’s face, clutching at his shoulders as if to keep him from fleeing. “You must remain precisely where you are. You have been desperately injured. Or if you must go, I will follow.”
Sidmouth dabbed at his nose, which was quite swollen and bruised, crusted in blood, though the flood had seemingly stopped. “I am perfectly well, my love. I will take lodging in the village. I shall not be far, I promise.”
These little mutterings between his wife and the viscount grated upon him. So, too, did the manner in which his wife clung to her lover.
“Why the village, Sidmouth?” he asked coolly. “Why not return to London altogether? I am happy to pay your passage.”
Sidmouth straightened. “I will not leave her here with you. I do not dare trust a man who would attack another without provocation.”
“Without provocation?” Jack sputtered. “I should think a man attempting to steal my wife from me isampleprovocation.”
“Cease this madness!” Nell interrupted, her voice angry, her tone almost shrill. “Tom, you will stay here, and Needham, you will go to the devil where you belong.”
“If he stays,” he warned his wife, “I will not be held accountable for my actions. I will not stop at his lordship’s nose.”
While Nell was filled with bluster, Sidmouth was not.
He placated Nell with a soothing pat to her shoulder. “It is no trouble, my darling. I will not be far. In the next few days, we will sort this dreadful matter out, once and for all.”
“Yes,” Jack agreed somberly, his eyes never leaving Nell. “We shall.”
Chapter Three
NEEDHAM HAD ATTACKEDTom.
Nell could still scarcely believe it.
The sight of poor Tom’s face, a river of blood gushing from his nose as he attempted to staunch the flow, would not leave her. She paced the confines of her private apartments once more. She had retreated here, following the wretched scene of an hour ago, needing to separate herself from her husband.
Needing time.
Distance.
A chance to clear her mind of the fog infecting it.
