Sir Montague looked down at her with an odd expression in his eyes. The mockery was gone. “Ah, but for that, I would have to marry for love.”
“It is not”—she struggled to get the words out—“so very difficult.”
“And yet, nevertheless, unlikely. Something great would have to induce me into matrimony. Excuse me, Duchess.” With a slight bow, he left, moving towards the card room and not stopping to greet anyone on his way.
Theo barely had time to watch him leave before Nathanial accosted her, one hand on her arm, fingers a little too tight. “Don’t pine too obviously,” he said, something hard in his voice. “Someone might notice.”
Theo blinked and tried to pull her arm free. “I am not pining, Nathanial. Let me go.”
“The next dance is about to begin. Come.”
If she pulled away now, there would be talk—even more talk—and Theo could not bear that. But nothing could stop her glare as he led her to where other couples were forming. “You could haveaskedme.”
“And given you a chance to refuse?”
Theo’s head ached. Her heart ached. Nothing about this evening had gone right.
Nathanial’s brow pinched, and the hand around hers tightened. “Are you all right?”
“We don’t have to do this,” she said wearily. “Put aside your concern, Nate. I know you do not mean it.”
His jaw worked and she looked away before she could see anything more in his face. “Fear not,” he said, something cold in his voice. “This is the only dance I will solicit your hand for.”
Theo tried to be glad, she really did. But she was tired and all she wanted, all she had ever wanted, was Nathanial’s good opinion. And, with his hand warm on her arm, their bodies close like this, it was impossible not to remember the last time they had been this close.
For a moment, she was tempted to tell him that she had been the one in the garden, to give voice to this last secret thathaunted the space between them. For a moment, she wanted to use this final moment of physical intimacy to break down the last barriers they had erected around themselves.
But to do so would be to bare her heart, and she could not face his disappointment. Or worse, his horror.
“It pains me I must ask this,” Nathanial said, “but for the sake of onlookers, I feel a smile might be appropriate.”
If Theo forced a smile now, she might burst into tears. She pressed her mouth more firmly together and concentrated on keeping her breathing even. “Is it not enough that I am dancing with you?”
“If it were, I would not have asked.” He paused for a beat, and when she did not look or smile, added, “You accepted the role of Duchess when we married, and this is what it entails.”
“And you promised to do everything in your power to make me happy. Instead, you—” Now she truly was going to cry. She turned her face away, blindly staring at the wall. Nathanial stopped, leading her to one side, but he did not let go.
“I am trying toprotectyou,” he said, taking her chin and turning her face back to his. “Sir Montague is not entertaining you because he holds you in affection. He’s using you to hurt me.”
Theo thought this night might be the worst of her entire life. “I am all astonishment,” she said, forcing the words out past a throat that closed around them. “I thought for him to be able to hurt you, you would have to care about me.”
The look that leapt into his eyes made her stomach clench. “You are my wife.”
“A mistake,” she said thickly. “As I’m sure you will agree by now.”
His arms tightened around her. “By God, Theo, mistake or not, you are still married to me, and you will not forget it.”
“I hate you.”
“I’m gratified to hear I have inspired such strong emotions.”
If they were not in a ballroom, she would have pulled away long ago, and fled. Nathanial would not have been able to see how deeply he could wound her, and she would have had space to vent her emotions. Instead, as he pulled her back into the dance, tears shimmered across her eyes, though none fell, and she did not dare look at him again. His arms held her close, and occasionally she thought she felt his thumb swipe across her arm, or her back, or occasionally her hand, as though he could not help himself.
As though, despite how much he clearly despised her, he hated to see her distress almost as much as she hated letting him see.
“The dance is almost over,” he said after several long minutes of their silence. “Before you escape, I will kiss your hand.”
Theo shook her head, feeling the tears wash across her eyes and threaten to break down her cheeks. “You do not need to. That is a—an archaic formality.”
