Would it never go away? The sense of not being good enough?
Even little Finn had his nanny.
She clasped her hands behind her back, lifted her chin, and locked her gaze on the back of Cecily’s head as she followed them all inside.
Dark and cold, the foyer’s austere décor matched the architecture perfectly. Marcus had grown up here? This was his home? Emily wrapped her arms around herself to suppress a shiver.
Cecily and Mr. Nottingham did not stay long. Lucky them! After taking an uncomfortable tea with Marcus’ family, they excused themselves to make a quick escape.
How had their plans changed so drastically?
Cecily apologized with a warm embrace and told her to write daily.
Write? She nearly laughed out loud. A foreboding washed over her that after the next few days, she just might have the makings of a novel.
Hi, Dad
Something was off with Emily. Marcus couldn’t put his finger on it. He’d assumed her distance had something to do with her monthlies, and yet, she’d never acted this way with him. Not angry so much as distant. As though she’d extinguished something inside of herself.
Perhaps it had something to do with meeting Waters. Marcus wasn’t so much a fool that he didn’t remember how their marriage had come about in the first place. He’d meant to spite the old man by marrying the Mossant girl. And when that hadn’t come to fruition, he’d married Emily.
An unsuitable bluestocking. Had he even called her that? He’d made a mockery of the proposal. Dropped to one knee as though all of it had been the greatest of jokes.
Despite telling her she was good enough for Carlisle, he’d done a hell of a lot to convince her she wasn’t good enough for him.
Marcus swallowed hard. Was he the reason for that bleakness behind her gaze?
“You didn’t really marry her, did you, Marcus? Tell me it’s a joke,” Corinne beseeched him after one of the servants led Emily away to their chamber, breaking into his unsettling thoughts.
Corinne’s tone raised his hackles.
“She is my wife.” The words felt right. He’d not allow anyone to disparage Emily, let alone his own family. “You’ll do well to remember that.”
He’d not had many opportunities to speak with his sister since falling out with his father. She’d always been something of a silly, frivolous girl but kind-hearted and sympathetic. Her comment surprised him.
It shouldn’t have. Before marrying, Emily truly had been on the fringes of Society.
He scrubbed a hand over his face. She herself had suggested he marry an undesirable bride to retaliate against his father.
Undesirable.
The word bothered him.
Unsuitable perhaps. But he certainly no longer saw her that way. He’d not allow any of them to belittle Emily. Not Corinne, nor his mother.
Guilt pricked at his conscience. Had he belittled her?
He’d shown her affection on some occasions but on others, he’d treated her more like a fellow schoolmate. He’d considered her an equal intellectually, but had he ever given her the due respect of a wife? That hadn’t been part of their initial agreement, had it?
Everything had changed, though.
How was it that one tiny woman could scramble his brain somehow?
“Oh, come now, Marcus. She looks like somebody’s governess. Or companion. It’s a joke. You can admit it to me. Your way of getting back at Father. Brilliant, really. It’s a shame he’s too ill to appreciate it.”
Corinne had changed.
Except, she knew him too well. She knew how much he hated their father. She knew he’d do practically anything to extract revenge from the man who’d sired him.
