“You never intended to remain in London,” Helen said after a few beats.
Clio frowned at her. “Sorry?”
Helen was nodding to herself, apparently feeling increased conviction in her line of argument.
“You are not tied to London,” she reiterated. “Some people certainly are. Hugh and Persephone, for example. They are city folk, through and through. You shan’t find them living elsewhere. But you? You wanted to see more of the world.”
“Yes,” Clio allowed cautiously. “And I still can, I suppose, but that won’t change anything about the terms of my marriage.”
Helen shook her head sharply, like Clio was missing the point.
“No, Clio, I just mean—well, the North is part of the world, isn’t it? And you haven’t spent any time there, have you?”
Clio opened her mouth to respond, realized she had no idea what she was going to say, and closed it again.
“You think I should … follow him?” she asked. It sounded almost too fanciful, like her cousin was suggesting that Clio sprout wings and fly.
“Follow him, accompany him—whatever you want to call it,” Helen said. “Has he outright said that he wants to be far away from you?”
Clio jolted. “No,” she said, feeling like some kind of realization was being pried open within her. “He hasn’t.”
“You just assumed, from context?”
“I … yes.” Clio was looking back on things with new eyes.
“And have you outright toldhimthat you wish to be parted?”
“No, I haven’t,” Clio admitted.
Helen looked as though she were the governess, now, one forced to lead a recalcitrant pupil to a very obvious point.
“Do you think that perhapsheis assuming from context that you wish it to be so?” she prodded.
“I … yes,” Clio said. “It’s certainly possible.”
And then Helen laid down her final card, the ace in her hand, the one that sealed the game.
“Do you wish to be parted from him?”
The way Helen asked it made it seem so simple. Clio felt her heart begin to race, as though she was doing something reckless, potentially fatal, and not just answering a straightforward question.
“No,” she admitted in a whisper.
No, she didnotwish to be parted from Hector. He was her husband, and more than that, he was … He wasHector. He made her laugh. He annoyed her beyond reason. He made her feel dizzy just from looking at him. He brought her pleasure and comforted her, and he hadn’t abandoned her when she’d needed him most.
He made her feel like she wasn’t alone.
And all those things added up to an emotion that she wasn’t yet ready to name, but she could declare this one thing: that she did not wish for them to be separated, that she didn’t want to have amarriage in name only, that she wanted atruehusband, one who spent his days and nights at her side.
“No,” she said again, with a little more confidence. “I do not wish for us to live separate lives.”
“Well, then,” Helen said, as though the answer was obvious. This was all well and good for Helen, but Clio did not consider it obvious in the least. Her silence must have revealed as such, for Helen let out a disgruntled, impatient sound.
“Well, then,” Helen repeated, a good deal more pointedly, “you need to stop hiding behind excuses. You need to stop making assumptions or letting yourself be misunderstood. You have to say what you want. You have to take the life that you want. Nobody is going to deliver it to you on a silver platter, Clio.” She gave Clio a determined look. “You have to go after what you want andfight for it. That’s the only way that you will get all the happiness that you deserve.”
CHAPTER 22
Hector was not easily intimidated. He was stronger than most men, even with his damned leg, and even before he was a duke, he’d been a blacksmith.
