She’d told him that he hurt her.
I hurt her.
Her innocent honesty punctured his heart.
He’d hurtBethany, the sweet girl who’d shadowed her older brother and his friends every chance she had. The girl who’d fetched and carried for her mother and only ever offered support to those around her. The little girl who’d stared at him with eyes the color of an approaching storm, and never failed to offer a kind word to those who needed one.
The woman who’d given herself to him freely last night.
“Last night was a rousing success.” Chase nearly choked until he realized Bethany was referring to the ball. “And my mother has declared Tabetha’s come-out may proceed as planned.” She conversed with his mother warmly, in a quietly dignified demeanor. Not only did it seem to calm his mother but also the staff. She carried on, describing her sister’s excitement and particulars of the upcoming party in more detail than any man ought to ever be forced to suffer through.
But he would not complain because she wasn’t insisting he explain the earlier revelation over soup.
“It will be a lovely party, dear. And how lucky they will be to have newlyweds in attendance. My son has always been very popular amongst theton.”
Chase swallowed a groan.
“It’s regrettable that you can’t attend. My mother says she has missed your company but wishes you well.”
His mother shifted an uncomfortable glance in his direction.
“Mother’s nerves suffer in crowds.” It went without saying, but his mother, as usual, had turned to him for reassurance.
“Of course.” Bethany’s shoulders slumped for a brief moment, giving the first indication that forcing cheerful conversation was wearing her out. She poked at a piece of food with her fork, but rather than actually eat it, she scraped it off and then did the same thing all over again. “Nerves can be a dreadful thing.”
His mother agreed, and then listed a few of her other ailments. Fighting the desire to excuse himself and run around the park a few times, Chase downed his wine instead while Bethany straightened her back and spoke of the weather, fashion, and all the different flowers in blossom already this spring.
She was not going to give away his secret and although he felt less apprehensive with each course served, he couldn’t help wondering how the hell he was going to juggle all of this. An imbalanced mother. Abandoned sisters. His dead father’s mistress. And now an anxious wife. How was he going to please all of them?
By the time Mrs. Finch arrived to escort his mother upstairs, Chase would have willingly settled for a decanter of scotch and a good cigar.
And air.
But he was going to have to talk to his wife first.
“Have you explored the grounds yet?” The extensive gardens set behind the house had been put in by one of his ancestors a few centuries before and Chase had spared no expense in providing for their maintenance. The space soothed his mother and God knew anything that soothed his mother was worth its weight in gold.
“I intended to today… That and meet with your housekeeper. But I didn’t climb out of bed until well after noon and then I had to visit my sister…” The flush in her cheeks reminded him of how creamy the rest of her skin was.
For the first time all evening, she met his gaze fully, without regret or sadness.
“Will you join me for a moonlight tour?” He hadn’t brought her flowers so he would bring her to the flowers instead. He removed his napkin from his lap. “Bethany?”
She nodded, rising, making her little nervous gestures again. He needed to set matters right between the two of them. He needed to know what he was going to have to do to keep from hurting her.
Again.
They didn’t have far to walk as a set of terrace doors exited directly from the dining room. He opened one and gestured for her to precede him.
“Your mother is fragile.” Bethany was the first to speak after they’d stepped outside.
Living in this house, she was going to be exposed to his mother’s unsettling eccentricities. That reality ought to be concerning but it wasn’t.
“She is easily disturbed but her nurses are very capable of keeping her in check. Does she make you uncomfortable?” He wanted Bethany to feel at home at Byrde House.
“Not at all. Well, a little. But I like her.” A light breeze ruffled the leaves, and Bethany paused and inhaled the spring-scented air. “Lilacs. I can’t stand the fragrance in perfume, but I love how they smell in nature.”
The vast courtyard had been cultivated to provide a tranquil and serene retreat with both floral and sweet aromatic plants.
