Something inside of him had shifted.
This was why he resisted going to his wife tonight. This loss of his independence. This loss of individuality.
He gestured to the barmaid again. Drawing on years of flirtatious behavior, he winked. He wasn’t prepared, however, when she drifted across the room and settled herself on his lap.
Foolish Man
Emily took one step backward. And then another. Was she even breathing?
She should have known better. She should have stayed in her chamber. Left well enough alone.
Only, she’dwantedhim.
She’d thought to step out of her chamber, perhaps catch his eye. Give him some indication as to what they could be doing if he’d return to their suite.
He’d not been alone.
This must be what it felt like to take a fist to the gut. She’d watched a few pugilists put on an expedition near Cheapside once. She and Rhoda had given their maids the slip. Gone looking for a particular bookshop and gotten off track. The sensation of all the air whooshing out of her. Yes. It reminded her of what an opponent likely experienced when the other fighter landed a blow.
At first, she couldn’t move.
Perhaps she was mistaken. Perhaps the barmaid had tripped and landed accidentally on Marcus.
But Marcus did nothing to push the woman away. In fact, his arm snaked around the buxom woman’s waist and seemed to draw her closer.
He whispered something into the barmaid’s ear, and the woman laughed.
And when the woman laughed, her bosom bounced directly in Marcus’ line of vision. Inches from his eyes. And Emily just stood there, watching, almost like she had that night when he’d been with Mrs. Cromwell.
How could he?
Perhaps Emily had not understood their arrangement properly.
But she had. He’d been rather clear about his expectations of her.
Only, she’d not allowed herself to imagine what he might be doing after. She’d not considered that while she piddled around on some unknown country estate, her husband might be out swiving other women.
Intellectually, she’d known it. Yes. He’d not deceived her on this.
And the marriage itself, well, truth be told, it had been her idea. Indeed, the identity of his bride had changed but when she’d initially proposed the idea to him, she’d given him every indication that it would be strictly a marriage of convenience.
But seeing him thusly, with another woman.
Her eyes burned.
She’d not paid heed to the notion because she’d had no real knowledge of what it even meant. What that might feel like.
She’d not given him her body yet.
She’d not gone and idiotically fallen in love with the bastard.
Watching him with the barmaid wasnotthe same as when she’d watched him with Mrs. Cromwell.
No.
No!
Because now she knew.
