Perhaps it would rain, and Marcus, Mr. Findlay, and Mr. Nottingham would be forced to ride inside. Would Marcus speak to her?
He’d ignored her to this point. If he accidentally met her eyes, his gaze turned hard and then shifted elsewhere.
Emily knew Cecily suspected something had gone awry. Anyone with half a brain could not help but notice Marcus’ cold demeanor, the fact that her husband of less than one week avoided touching, looking at, or even acknowledging her.
Emily must have set some sort of record. Repelling one’s husband within four days of wedded bliss.
“I don’t understand.” Emily couldn’t help but break the silence. At this point, she was more than ready to answer Cecily’s unasked questions.
Cecily sent her a meaningful look and nodded. “You and I know that your type of meddling was done with the best of intentions, but Blakely’s a proud man. You’ve stuck your nose into his life without permission in more than one instance recently.”
Emilyknewthis. She tried telling herself she ought not to have done so, and yet…She’d been right!
It appeared the Duke of Waters hadn’t been so cruel as Marcus had thought. What if the duke had died without Marcus ever knowing the truth?
“If I did not, then who would have? For such an intelligent man under most circumstances, Lord Blakely has been a stubborn fool where this woman was concerned. She hoodwinked him. He’d idolized her in his mind and hated his father for it.” Emily hated the green streak of emotion that shot through her. “He might as well have married her for the barrier she’s wedged between him and his family.”
Would Emily be that barrier now?
Cecily raised her brows, willing to play the part of devil’s advocate, apparently. “I know, Em. And I know you did all of this with the best of intentions, but I think you might do well to try to think of some way to apologize for… invading his privacy. Of course, the future will reveal whether your decision was for the best, but for now, you need to do something to recapture Lord Blakely’s goodwill. You don’t wish to go on like this indefinitely, do you?”
“Are you practicing marital wisdom based on your experience with me, Cece?” In the past, Emily had always been more of the teacher. To all of them.
When had the tables turned?
She did not need to look far to see her answer. All she needed to do was peek out the carriage window, at her husband’s proud back. Such confidence with horses. She allowed her gaze to linger on the corded muscles of his thighs, stretching the material of his breeches. As she studied the width and strength in his shoulders, she remembered how comforted she’d felt when he embraced her. Warm. Safe.
Good enough.
“I don’t know if he’ll accept a heartfelt apology.” Although she didn’t think she ought to have to apologize for discovering the truth, there were other things she’d done that she regretted. She’d heedlessly stormed past the boundaries of caring into outright manipulation. Which was apparently not a trait he found attractive in his wife. Emily winced. Exercising restraint would have driven her to Bedlam.
Exercising restraint might very well have been worth the effort, though.
Watching her husband sit atop his horse… So proud. So familiar and yet distant. Her throat thickened, and her heart ached. Being at odds with him provoked an entirely different sort of insanity.
“The longer this goes on, the worse it will get,” Cecily said in all seriousness. “Mr. Nottingham and I got ourselves into a horrible fight when we’d only been married a few weeks. I know that you, Sophia, and Rhoda assume I’m living happily ever after with my husband, and I love him with all of my heart, I always will, but a marriage requires effort. And sacrifice. A woman must learn to choose her battles wisely.”
“What would you and Mr. Nottingham quarrel over?” Cecily was right. She and the others did all rather assume Cecily lived something of a fairy tale, tucked away with her handsome hero.
“Don’t share this with Sophia and Rhoda. I’m only telling you so that you can better understand marriage.” Cecily turned and fussed with little Finn’s blankets on the bench seat beside her. “Flavion. We fight over Flavion.”
“The man who married you for money? The man who put an adder in your bed? The man who’s never spoken a sincere word in his life? Whatever could your husband find to quarrel about in regards to that rotter?”
“Flavion is his cousin.” Cecily shrugged. “And although Stephen sees most of the earl’s flaws now, old habits die hard. Stephen still takes on a great deal of Flave’s responsibilities. I think he’ll always feel guilty about not being here when his uncle died.”
Emily pondered Cecily’s words. “And you’ve fought over this?”
Cecily nodded. “At first, I wanted to tear my husband’s hair out. I resented that he could continue to feel any sort of affection for Flavion after everything he did to me. We yelled. I gave him the silent treatment. It was the worst forty-eight hours of my life. Every part of my soul hurt while we fought. And then it hit me.”
“What?” Emily leaned forward.
“I should never try to control this man. I should never try to tell him who to love, or who to hate. He is the man I fell in love with. Why would I want to change anything about him? Why would I wish to keep him from being the wonderful person who attracted me from the very beginning?”
Emily’s conscience pricked her. Had she been trying to change Marcus?
Perhaps she hadn’t tried tochangehim, per se, but she’d tried to control him. By exposing his first love, she’d become the same villain his father had been all these years. It didn’t matter that she’d in truth done nothing wrong having the situation investigated, and she’d maintain this until the day she died. But…
Marcus must make his own decisions.
