Tom had been lovely and gentlemanly as ever, of course. True to form, he had been more concerned with her than with his swollen nose. He had held her hand all the way to the door, promising he would return to call upon her on the morrow.
All whilst Needham had hovered at the periphery, like a demon presiding over them, glowering and radiating disapproval. Nell had seen Tom off before hastening to her chamber, where she had promptly rung for a tray of tea and toast to settle her still-ailing stomach.
The tea and toast mocked her now from a low table, alongside a stack of leather-bound volumes. Three of them, in all. One for each year he had been gone. In her dudgeon, she had plucked them from their hiding place in her wardrobe.
She told herself she would not read them.
But a new, unrelenting curiosity had caught hold of her. Perhaps it was because he had returned. Perhaps it was because she had always wondered what her husband had been doing whilst he was abroad. His essays on travel had been well-received.
She had purchased them with no intention of ever cracking the spines.
Why had she bought them?
What would reading them accomplish?
What would remaining here, with the husband she no longer wanted, accomplish?
On a sigh, she crossed the room and sank into a chair. Of course, she had little choice but to remain where she was. Needham possessed all the power in this farce. A man could obtain a divorce with more ease than a woman, which had been why his agreement had been necessary.
But he had not agreed, had he?
She fixed a cup of tea and took a sip. His earlier words returned to her. Needham wanted an heir. Impossible. As she had told him, there would be no heirs. Because she would sooner welcome an asp into her bed than the Marquess of Needham.
The tea was sweet on her tongue. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to gather her wits. So much had happened in the course of a day. But she must not allow this to make her veer from her chosen path. She was not growing younger, and if she wanted the opportunity to become a mother, she needed her freedom from Needham.
At once.
But the Needham who had returned was not the same man who had left. She opened her eyes, her gaze settling upon the neat little stack of books once more. Perhaps if she wanted to understand him—if she had any hope of persuading him that divorce was the best option for the both of them—she ought to read. She ought to discover what he had been doing.
And with whom.
Nell picked up the first volume he had published, and she opened the book to its frontispiece.An Englishman Abroad. Not a terribly inventive title, she told herself. But it was as she flipped to the next page that she paused, on the dedication.
This book is inscribed to my wife.
BY THE TIMEJack finished meeting with his steward, it was near to dinnertime.
In spite of the wild house parties she had been throwing, it was apparent that Nell had taken great care in overseeing the management of the estate. The tenant farmers were happy. Their crops were excellent. Necessary repairs to Needham Hall had been made. Although the letters he had received from Jones during his travels had always suggested the same, hearing it for himself, overlooking the ledgers, and meeting Jones in person had been gratifying.
It had also made him realize how much he had missed not just Nell but Needham Hall as well.
Being back felt right.
All he had to do was find his wife.
After the altercation with Sidmouth, she had fled to her chamber. He had allowed it, of course. He was not particularly proud of having broken the nose of his wife’s lover. But he had to admit that, like returning to Needham Hall, planting Sidmouth a facer had also felt right.
He made his way to his chamber, thinking it odd indeed how, now that he had returned, it felt in some ways as if he had never been gone at all. He stopped at Nell’s door and knocked.
“Who is it?” came her suspicious call.
“Jack,” he told her.
“Go to the devil!”
He grimaced, trying the door and finding it latched. No surprise there. “Will you be joining me at dinner?”
“No.” Her clipped response was also expected.
