She shook her head. “He is so angry. He acquired a special license. I don’t think he cares about me. He detests me but wants to be in Alice’s life.”
A snort escaped Rose. “I can’t imagine Alice wants anything to do with him. She is protective of you.”
Lisbeth sniffled. “It makes it even more awful. Alice is so angry, and he enthralls Jeremy.”
“He should have wooed you properly.”
She shook her head at her friend. “Did you hear what I said? He hates me.”
“Thomas Easton loves you. Everything he has ever accomplished is to prove he is worthy of you.”
He had always been worthy of her. It was she who wasn’t worthy of him. “The wedding was a disaster. There is no love left, trust me.”
“Can you annul it?”
Lisbeth flushed and fidgeted uncomfortably. “It has been consummated.”
Rose shot her a pointed look. “But the love is gone?”
Lisbeth had no words to convey how much anger existed in Thomas’s eyes every time they spoke. Rose squeezed her hand. “Give it time.”
“You don’t understand. Too much hurt and lies have occurred. Some things can’t be fixed, and this can’t. We will live separate lives. I plan to take Alice and Jeremy to the country for the time being at the end of the week. I need to get out of the city.”
Rose sighed and took a drink from her flask before handing it back to Lisbeth.
*
Thomas sat atthe Den; it was his third night there. Devons reluctantly offered to let him stay at one of the cottages on the grounds that bachelors frequented when they were visiting London. Of course, he first explained to him why he should go back to his wife. The woman would not stop tormenting his thoughts.
He’d played cards and drank, and a few of the lords had tried to entice him into visiting some ladies with them, but the thought left him disgusted. Lisbeth was his wife, and as much as he despised her, now that he’d made the vow, Thomas couldn’t break it. She was his. When he was completely in his cups, sometimes he wondered if he’d forced the marriage so he could have her or because of his daughter.
The daughter, who hated him. Thomas suspected only time would fix that. Guilt coursed through him that he hadn’t been back since the night he’d made love to Lisbeth and she’d thrown a glass at him. In truth, he deserved it. He took a sip of his drink.
The whole situation was a sordid mess. Thomas shouldn’t have forced Lisbeth to wed him, no matter how angry he was. He cringed, remembering the horror he’d seen on Alice’s face when Lisbeth explained they were wed. What the fuck was he doing? Thomas considered leaving England altogether, but something held him back.
“Easton, you’ve been a bore tonight,” Lord Braxton moaned.
Matthison, his friend from his voyage to England, nodded in agreement. Before he could respond, both men’s eyes widened, and gasps echoed through the great hall. He wasn’t facing the entrance, so he turned in his chair to see. A furious Rose was stalking towards him, with her husband following behind her as if a duchess charging into a gentlemen’s club was perfectly normal.
“Bloody hell,” he muttered, standing.
She reached him and glared. “I would like to speak with you, Mr. Easton.”
“What are you doing here? You are in the middle of a gentlemen’s club,” he whispered to her, and then glanced at her husband, who shrugged. He sighed. Rose was lucky she married a duke; gossip could only affect the hoyden so much.
Devons approached and nodded to a room. “That is a private space if you need to use it.”
Sinclair nodded before following Rose to the room. Thomas sighed and joined them. Once inside, the duke shut the door. Rose hissed, “Did you force Lisbeth to marry you?”
“You have no idea what she’s done.”
“Alice is yours.”
It was like another stab to his heart. Rose and her father were like family to him. “You knew?”
Rose rolled her eyes. “No, I went to see Lisbeth, and she told me.”
“I had to make sure I could see my child,” he bit out, somewhat relieved that she hadn’t known all along. “How can you side with her?”
