“Yes.” She swallowed and shook her head. “I mean, no. I just… I just wanted to apologize for what I said last night. Please forgive me. I didn’t mean it.”
A frown appeared. “Which part?”
“Pardon?”
“Which part didn’t you mean?”
“Oh.” She chewed on her lip. “The part about our social differences.”
“Ah.” He nodded. “Nothing to forgive, lass. I realized they were merely words spoken in anger. Is that it?”
“Well, um, yes.”
“Right. I should be back on Friday.” He moved closer still, dropped a kiss on her cheek, and then turned to leave. “Go and put some clothes on before you catch a chill.”
“No, Max, wait, please!” She reached out, as if doing so might hold him in place.
He halted and turned to her again. “Louisa, I really have to go.”
“But you’re still angry, I can tell.” Her hand dropped to her side. “Please don’t be. My father says a man must never leave his home angry lest he might live to regret it.”
“I’m not angry at all,” he said. “I’m sure being married to me is not easy, and I’ve probably expected too much from you. We’ll discuss it when I return. Now, if you’ll excuse me, my dear, the carriage is waiting.”
Expected too much?What did that mean, exactly? Had she failed him, then? Tears blurred her vision as he walked away. “Maxwell?”
He paused at the carriage door and turned back once more, arching a brow in question. Louisa pushed a strand of hair from her eyes. “I love you,” she called, and hugged herself.
Another frown appeared and he stared at her for a prolonged moment, hands slowly clenching at his sides. Then, “I have to go, Louisa. I’ll be back on Friday evening.”
*
“Did you sortit out, Harlow?” Ashbridge asked, as Maxwell clambered back into the carriage.
“Nothing to sort out,” Maxwell answered, feeling slightly ill as he settled back against the soft leather. “Everything is fine.”
The man huffed. “Women,” he muttered, and turned his gaze to the window. “Irrational creatures. Apologies if I fall asleep and start snoring.”
Maxwell resisted an urge to look back at the manor, afraid it would be his undoing. He knew Louisa would still be there, barefoot on the steps, watching as the carriage drove away. Instead, he met Finlay’s gaze and then switched his attention to the window, not willing to acknowledge the vague look of disapproval on his brother’s face.
Even for Maxwell, who generally slept little, the night had been a long and restless exercise in self-recrimination. Although he hadn’t actually heard her, he knew Louisa had cried herself to sleep. The mere thought of her doing so sickened him to the core, yet he’d clung doggedly to his pride.I warned her, he argued silently, seeking to lighten the lead weight on his conscience.She knew, from the start, how the marriage would be.
So why did he feel so bloody guilty?
Damn it.
He dared to look at Finlay again, and this time was granted with a sympathetic smile, which he actually found worse than the previous look of disapproval. He scowled at his brother and turned his attention back to the window, feigning interest in the passing countryside. His reflection stared back at him like a separate entity, critical and accusing.
He filled his lungs slowly and relaxed his expression, determinedly shifting his thoughts to the importance of the upcoming meeting. He needed a clear head. But a little voice at the back of his mind told him it was going to be a long week.
Then, from the opposite seat came a couple of snorts, followed by a sequence of snuffles, finishing off with a series of rhythmic, throaty snores. Maxwell exchanged yet another glance with his brother, both now sharing expressions of amusement.
It was also going to be a long trip.
Chapter Fifteen
Amuted humof conversation permeated the smoky air of the hotel’s dining-room. Male voices dominated, several of which emanated from Maxwell’s dinner table. At that precise moment, however, Maxwell was paying them little attention. His mind had wandered onto another track, and not for the first time that week. It appeared his feelings toward his wife had undergone a change. It had been unexpected. Unforeseen. Unwanted, even.
He’d argued with himself constantly, trying to deny the truth of it. Louisa had, after all, been warned about his lifestyle prior to him placing the wedding ring on her finger. She’d been told what to expect. He’d taken great pains to clarify it, precisely because he didn’t want to hear her complain about his frequent absences. Therefore, her tirade on Saturday night had surely been unreasonable. Except, when all things had been considered, it hadn’t been unreasonable. Not really.
