“You are a means to an end, nothing more. I haven’t need for you at present, as I believe I have made more than abundantly clear.”
“Yes, of course you have.” She spun toward him, eyes flashing with gray fire. “Have you ever spared a thought about me, even once in these last three months?”
Everett would have laughed were he not so infuriated by her claims. “Good God, why would I want to linger upon something so unpleasant?”
“Then surely you must agree that divorce is the most sensible course for us both. You do not want to be married to me, and I most certainly do not wish to be bound to you. Our union was very clearly a dreadful mistake.”
“I’m not divorcing you. I need an heir, and I’ve grown weary of my mother berating me for ignoring my familial obligation.”
“You won’t have an heir, you frustrating man. Did you not hear a word I’ve said? I don’t want to be married to you.”
“Madam, you know the grounds for divorce.”
“Adultery and desertion.” Her chin went up.
“You haven’t proof of either,” he snapped.
And he knew it all too well, damn her. He hadn’t taken a lover since well before they had married. Moreover, he most certainly hadn’t deserted her. He had left her to her own devices in the country because he hadn’t been able to stomach looking at her after he’d realized what and who she was.
Everett had been betrayed before. He would never again put himself in such a wretched, vulnerable place.
Never.
“Indeed?” she asked crisply, resuming her task at the final window. “How interesting you think so when I’ve spent months being ignored and then arrived at this den of iniquity where you are indulging in all manner of vice. I am confident I can prove both.”
“And drag our good names through the mud in the process? What would your father say to that? I think not.”
The Marquess of Eastlake was a cold, parsimonious arsehole who disapproved of everyone. Everett doubted very much that Sybil’s father would welcome her back into the familial fold were she to cause such a scandal.
She threw open the last curtain. “I want a divorce, Riverdale.”
“And I want an heir. I’m afraid we’re at an impasse.”
“You can have your heir,” she snapped, whisking her voluminous skirts like they were a weapon she could use against him. “You may have all the children your heart desires. But it shan’t be with me.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, madam.” He scowled at her as she moved toward him, bringing with her that damnable scent he couldn’t help but find so enchanting. “I am not enduring another sham courtship and wedding ceremony. Once was quite enough.”
As he finished his proclamation, something suddenly occurred to Everett.
Perhaps there was a way they could both have what they wanted.
The light infiltrating his room thanks to the curtains Sybil had thrown open in her ire made him see it all with perfect clarity.
“Why would you insist upon holding us both in a marriage neither of us wants?” she demanded, magnificent in her fury.
Always magnificent, if he were honest. She possessed a face that wasn’t just classically lovely, but interesting as well. Even if he hated knowing what she had done, he couldn’t deny she was astoundingly gorgeous.
“There may be a way for us both to have our way,” he said slowly, thoughtfully stroking his jaw and the stubble of whiskers his valet had yet to shave. “I’ll give you what you want. But in exchange, you must first grant me what I want.”
Her eyes narrowed. “And what is that?”
“My heir.”
She shook her head adamantly. “No.”
“No?” He shrugged. “Then we’re both doomed to be disappointed, I’m afraid. Now, if you don’t mind, my valet should be appearing at any moment to shave and dress me for the day. Your discretion would be most appreciated.”
She hesitated, and he knew why. He could read her well enough, even if he hadn’t been able to read her about her involvement with another man. If he had but known she had a lover, he never would have asked her to marry him.
