His breath caught. ‘Romola was here?’
‘Yes.’
His bride fixed him with a look that laid his soul bare, as if she had seen inside to the rotten core, seen the miserable, lost wretch that he was.
‘And what did she have to say?’
‘That she was your mistress and that you had thrown her over for me – a temporary state of affairs, according to her.’
How calm Grace was, staring him down as if they were discussing the parlous state of the weather or the latest fashions. Her strength impressed and shocked in equal measure. ‘What do you have to say for yourself, Rawden?’
He had never liked being cornered. ‘Do not speak to me like I am some errant child,’ he growled, fists clenched, and she flinched. Rawden tried to calm his temper, which was more for Romola than for her. ‘Yes, Romola was a friend of mine.’
‘Friend? What a charming word for it,’ said Grace, quietly but with venom.
‘Whatever I had with Romola, I have finished it because it had run its course and because I am a married man now. I went to see her and told her it was over, and if it gives you consolation, it was a bloody affair with a great deal of recrimination on both sides. But I did it to be fair to our agreement and to spare you humiliation.’
‘In the latter, you failed miserably. Your mistress stood and denounced you on your own doorstep. Are there to be more women paying me a visit, or do you intend to continue your other liaisons?’
‘I have no others, no matter what the gossips of the ton say. And what of it if I do? I made no promises, and nor did you.’ he snarled.
The desolation on Grace’s face made him want to hold her, but she stepped back when he reached a hand out. ‘Why Rawden. Why do it?’
‘Do what?’
‘Why drag me into your bed and use me? Why consummate our vows if you have no intention of honouring them?’
His temper, held by a thread, snapped. ‘Because they were lies said by two strangers.’ He took Grace by the shoulders. ‘We agreed to marry for duty and convenience, as do most couples in the ton. Those words we said meant nothing.’
‘But actions do. So what was last night – a diversion because you were bored, a cruel jest?’ Her face was stricken, which only made him angrier, with her, with Romola and, most of all, himself.
‘You tell me. Did you welcome my attentions, or were you stamping on my pride, laughing at me, toying with my feelings?’
‘You don’t have any feelings. And I did my duty by you, Rawden. It was what was expected of a bride, and I knew no better.’
‘Same for me. It was a moment of madness brought on by loneliness. I knew you did not really want me, Grace. You merely tolerated it, didn’t you?'
Grace did not dispute him, and his pity for her predicament sank under the weight of slighted pride. ‘I made no secret of what kind of man I am, so you should not be surprised if I am a blackguard.’
‘No, I should not. But if we were not strangers, and if you knew me at all, you would know I have no intention of being humiliated by you. From now on, we will stick to the terms of our marriage. You may do as you wish, Rawden. Go back to your mistress, take ten new ones if you like, but you may never touch me again.’
‘It is a husband’s right to touch his wife,’ he snarled.
‘I am not a thing to be used and thrown away. I will not have you discard this marriage when you tire of being charitable.’
He would not tire of her. It was a certainty that came upon him in that moment, rocking his selfish world to its core. He wanted her, even now, when she was shrieking at him like a fishwife. Grace Howden was like a poison in his blood, rotting him from the heart outward.
‘Grace, I do not see you that way. I have told you that Romola and I are finished.’ He took a step towards her, and she backed away. ‘I ended it because I want you, I burn for you, and because of that, I could not bear to touch her anymore.’
‘How can I believe that from a rake such as you?’
‘Believe the worst of me, but there is no changing this. It is done, and we will go on, the two of us, and make this marriage a success.’
‘No,’ she said, turning her back on him.
Rawden twisted her around. ‘Can you not see that you are far better off with me than your dreadful uncle? This marriage has saved you, yet you expect me to apologise for who I used to be, to become something I am not, to grovel at your feet.’
‘You are wrong. This is no salvation and no marriage, either. It is just a finer kind of prison, with a jailor I despise.’
