“Your father won’t allow it. Did you forget that he tossed us into the streets? What do you think he would have done tonight? Embarrassed both of us in front of everyone, that’s what. I would never humiliate you like that.”
He didn’t want to admit that she was most likely correct. But he would have defended her if anyone had dared insult her. It was a matter of pride. “You should have had more faith in me.”
“There’s nothing you could have done.” She turned to face him. “It’s better for everyone if I just stay out of society.”
“Then you’ve already given up, haven’t you?” There wasn’t any hope of starting over again if she wasn’t going to try. He wouldn’t force her to stay here against her will. “I’ll send you back to your brother’s home with the children. We’ll end the marriage and go our separate ways.”
“There’s nothing for me to go back to. I can’t take them home again. There’s hardly any furniture, and I need money for food. Royce has outgrown his shoes, and he needs a new coat. Victoria will need dresses, soon enough.”
“I’ll give you the funds you need.” When she remained silent, he prompted, “Isn’t that what you want? Your freedom and a means of caring for them?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know.” She hugged her waist, fighting back tears.
“Which is it, Emily?”
She shook her head and crossed the room to the door. With her hand resting on the knob, she said, “I…I think you should go.”
Her indecision made him question what it was she truly meant. He needed to break through her shield of indifference, to find the Emily he’d known before.
He pulled her mouth to his, kissing her with all the pent-up frustration he felt. Her lips were slightly open, and he stole her mouth, tasting the warm sweetness of her.
Unexpected desire blasted through him. She tried to push him away, but within seconds her hands relaxed until she was kissing him back. It was the innocent kiss of a woman who had not been kissed in a long time. The years seemed to fall away until she was once again the young girl he’d practiced kissing in a stable. Only now, he held a woman in his arms. A beautiful woman who made him lose his sense of reason the moment he touched her.
He drew her against him, molding the base of her spine while his body ached to claim her. He cupped her firm backside, pressing himself against the juncture of her thighs.
He broke away, his pulse pounding. He wanted to strip her bare and make love to her. He’d been married for nearly four months now, and he’d never seen his own wife naked.
There was something inherently wrong with that.
“Do you still want me to go?” he breathed against her mouth. Her face was flushed, her breathing unsteady.
“Please. I can’t bear it when you touch me.”
Stephen let her go, unable to say anything. Her words bruised his mood, and he didn’t bother to look at her before he closed the connecting door, leaving her alone.
Tonight, she had proved that she didn’t want him at all. As a husband, he was failing miserably. He would never force himself upon a woman who didn’t want him. And her rejection cut him deeper than the knife wound across his ribs.
What would it be like to have her willing? He pictured her full of fire, as passionate as he. Long ago, it had been that way between them.
A flash of memory took hold, and he saw a vision of Emily laughing, pulling him into her arms. Only it wasn’t the young girl whose face he saw.
It was his wife’s face. A recent memory—one he’d never seen before—and he fought to hold on to it.
In the vision, he saw a breathtaking woman who hugged him while snowflakes fell from the sky, lightly dusting her hood. One flake fell upon her lashes, drawing his attention to her brown eyes. Her cheeks were bright from the winter chill, her smile welcoming.
Icy snow dampened his shoulders and hair, and she tempted him with the spicy darkness of her kiss. He could see the love in her eyes, feel it from the warmth of her embrace.
A cloak of guilt shadowed the memory. He’d given her the security of his name, an arranged marriage to bring her out of the hardships she was enduring. In return, she’d helped him to break free of his father’s interference. She’d asked only one thing of him—that he would find her brother and bring him home again.
And in that, he’d failed.
The memory faded, and Stephen stood from the chair. Quietly, he opened the adjoining door to his wife’s bedchamber. She had extinguished the candle, and the room was too dark for shadows.
“Emily?” he whispered.
There was no reply. But really, what had he been expecting? She didn’t want him to touch her, that was clear.
What he didn’t know was whether or not to remain married to her. The simplest solution was to let her go. She deserved a second chance at happiness.
