The Ormulu clock ticked away on the mantel, Penny’s heart even louder in her ears.
Wrapping a large hand around a poster at the end of the bed, Marcus said, “How are you feeling this morning?”
“Much better. I’ve a bit of a bump on my head, but mostly the blow I took was to my pride.” She risked a smile. “I thought I could keep my balance.”
“You caught our son falling out of a tree. You’re lucky Owen didn’t flatten you like a pancake.”
“He has gotten bigger than I realized.” Seeing Marcus’ darkening expression, she added quickly, “It’s not Owen’s fault.”
“Not his fault?” Marcus’ scowl deepened. “The boy deserves a sound whipping for putting himself and you at risk.”
The very idea made her bolt upright against the pillows. From the instant she’d held her firstborn in her arms, she’d vowed that no child of hers would know suffering, not if she could help it. No babe of hers would ever feel unsafe or unwanted or unloved.Spare the rod, spoil the childbe damned.
Luckily, for the most part, Marcus deferred to her wishes. He was a stern disciplinarian, but his habit was to lecture and punish by means other than corporal.
“Owen’s been punished enough. I’m sure he feels terribly about it,” she insisted. “He doesn’t need—”
“Devil and damn, woman, will you ever stop defending the little rogues?”
Marcus stalked to the side of the bed, staring down at her, his hands planted on his hips. Judging that he appeared more exasperated than angry, she decided to be honest. “No.”
Her husband scowled. “He’s losing his outdoor privileges for a month.”
That was fair. “All right,” she said softly.
“As for you…” He dragged a hand through his hair. “Damnit, Penny, don’t risk your neck like that again.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think. I just saw him falling,”—she swallowed, flashing back to the panic, the utter horror of seeing Owen in danger—“and I reacted.”
Marcus said nothing. She couldn’t read his expression, didn’t know if she’d pushed her luck, made him angry again. He surprised her by sitting on the edge of the bed.
“We should talk,” he said.
Apprehension tickled her nape. “Yes?”
“The state of affairs between us. It can’t go on like this,” he said tersely.
Her stomach plunged. Had he come to a decision about their future? God, had he decided to divorce her after all—
“I can’t forgive the past,” he said in flat tones.
She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t even manage a nod. Terror paralyzed her.
“Thus, I believe the only solution is to move forward. To put it behind us,” he went on. “For the sake of the children, we must turn over a new leaf and start afresh.”
Slowly, her brain caught up. Sensation pierced her—relief so intense it was akin to pain.
“Would you be willing, Pandora?”
“Yes, Marcus, oh yes,” she whispered.
“There are conditions,” he warned. “First, after today, I don’t want to hear about your past again. Knowing about your indiscretions,”—he bit the word out—“doesn’t put me in a good place. So if there’s anything else you’ve lied to me about, any other lovers, you’d best get it over with and tell me now. Because after today, I want to hear nothing of it.”
Thereweresecrets she hadn’t revealed but not of the sort he was referring to. Not deceptions that she had to feel guilty about. She had the intuition that it was best to keep things simple.
“There’ve been no other indiscretions,” she said quietly.
He gave her a level look. “All right then.” He rose.
