And desire for more.
Did he dare to surrender a secret? Which one? That he was not who he claimed to be? That his life was a deceit from one end to the other? That Lady Beckham might withdraw every penny from his reach that was derived from her income and holdings? Arthur found he did not—for without the funds to publish her book, Patience might find him an unsatisfactory spouse.
It was a poor moment to realize that he was falling in love with his clever wife.
It was a worse moment to realize he would do almost anything to keep her by his side.
A secret. How unfortunate that every one of his secrets had the potential to turn her against him forever. He was snared between bad choices.
Dame Fortune, it seemed, had abandoned him at the worst possible moment.
CHAPTER9
“You ask for proof of my intention, Patience, but I might ask for your trust.”
She flung out her hands. “But you cannot continue to live without a care for anything beyond your own entertainment! A man of enterprise needs to be sober and prudent. He cannot gamble. He cannot cavort all the night long when there is a business to be run in the morning!”
“I do notcavort,” Arthur said tightly, but she dismissed this argument with a wave of one hand.
“You gamble, sir. You dance and you drink and you wager and you duel, and –” she made the most alluring sound of frustration, distracting Arthur from the argument at hand “– and I do not evenknowhalf the pastimes you undertake. I know only that you should abandon them all.”
That he was found lacking when she had no notion of his plans, annoyed Arthur as little else could have done. He had long understood the risk in divulging a secret to others, and the fact that Patience judged him and found him guilty before she asked after an explanation did not encourage him to change. “You should have wed a bookkeeper,” he said tightly.
“I thought you were a man of good sense. I thought you would strive to better understand the business you mean to enter.”
Arthur’s temper, though seldom roused, flared.
“Why?” he demanded of her, hearing his voice rise. “When I order the roofs to be rethatched on the tenants’ houses on my mother’s estate, I do not have to know how to thatch a roof myself. I do not have to judge the thatch or its thickness or compare the price of labor from this town to that. I decree that it shall be done and people who know how to ensure that a good job is done see the task completed, then I pay the cost on her behalf. Why should this venture be any different?”
Patience, to her credit, did not retreat but folded her arms across her chest, looking as stubborn as Arthur felt.
To his dismay, tears gathered in her beautiful eyes. He took a step toward her, but she abruptly turned away.
She took a breath. “I warn you, sir, that I cannot remain with a man whose word cannot be trusted.”
There was a moment of complete silence. If ever Arthur had wished to lay the truth bare to another, this was that moment. He would have liked nothing better than to have surrendered the entirety of his truth to Patience, but he feared that the revelation would only make matters worse.
First, it would prove that he had deceived not only her, but all of London.
And second, it would prove that he did not have the funds for her venture.
“Do you mean to leave?” he asked in a whisper, hearing his own fear in his tone.
She tossed her hair and met his gaze, her own eyes filled with tears so that he felt like a cur. “A secret, Arthur. Just one.”
He stared at her, wanting honesty between them, wanting her to desire him for his own sake. But no one had ever desired Arthur for his own sake, and he could not believe that this sensible and pragmatic woman would either.
His characteristic charm abandoned him, just as he feared his new wife might do.
There was an irony, to be sure, in the fact that one woman in all of England found him lacking, and she was the sole one he desired. Worst of all, there was nothing he could say to change her view.
Save surrender a secret that would drive her away.
There was only silence between them, a silence that yawned with a thousand unwelcome prospects to Arthur, a silence interrupted by the patter of rain against the windows. He found it a chilling sound.
He turned and went to the window, purportedly looking into the street, wondering how he might gain her good view again. He feared there was no victory to be had in this chamber on this night.
If he left, he might make some progress on her goal and thus regain her favor. It was a slim chance, but the sole one he had.
