She did, staring into her beloved’s eyes, and, to her horror, her vision began to swim. She could count on two hands the times that she’d cried in front of her husband. Being rather hotheaded by nature, she was more apt to instigate an out-and-out row than succumb to tears. He liked to tease her that, with her temperament, she would have been one of the rowdy troublemakers in his battalion. He never knew how close he’d come to the truth. Perhaps she ought to have hidden her natural tendencies, but it had been too much trouble to cultivate the art of being a watering pot, even for him.
Now, however, she couldn’t stop the moisture leaking from her eyes.
“What the devil?” Marcus’ tone permeated her shock.
“You mustn’t pursue this. The writer of the note—he’s dead,” she said in a rush. “He was a spy, working for the French, and he’s no longer a threat. All of this is in the past. Please I can explain—”
“The letter says you were a spy, Pandora.” Her husband stared at her. “Is this true?”
Blooming hell.She fumbled for a response. “There’s a good explanation—”
“It’s a yes or no question,” he said incredulously.
Say no. Say no. Say no.
She seemed to have lost any ability to control herself. ’Twas as if she’d let go of tightly held reins all at once, and she was flying, flying into an abyss. Terrified, she couldn’t stop more tears from spilling over. Nor her chin from dipping in an infinitesimally small nod.
The silence was punctuated by sounds of domesticity beyond the room. Maids cleaning, silverware rattling on a tray. Everyday noises that seemed to come from a world away.
“And the rest of the letter?” The pain in her husband’s voice serrated her insides. “It claims that you… you seduced these three men. Pierre Chenet. Jean-Philippe Martin. Vincent Barone.”
The names tore into her like shrapnel. The last, in particular, left a gaping hole out of which her nightmares oozed. The alleyway of crushed violets. Smell of garbage. The taste of fear, tinny and acid, filled her mouth.
She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t hold Marcus’ blazing gaze. “I… I…”
“Goddamnit, you will look at me and give me the truth.”
She forced her eyes up. His face was now tightly controlled, wiped of expression. He wasn’t her Marcus any longer; he was Lieutenant-Colonel Harrington, a man who held those in his command to the strictest levels of moral behavior. Who was now looking at his wife as he would a soldier placed on court-martial.
She’d fought too many battles not to know defeat when she saw it. No weapons left, no place to hide.Damn the Spectre for doing this. Damn him for destroying everything.
“I had no choice,” she said through the constriction of her throat. “It was part of the mission. Please, I can explain—”
“Explain? How do you explain that you were a spy? A damnedwhore?”
His words sliced through her; shame bled out.
“I did… I did what I had to do,” she whispered.
“Youhadto lie to me? In twelve years, not once have you mentioned that you were involved in this filthy business.Damnation.” He dragged his hands through his hair, his expression going from angry to ravaged. “On our wedding night, you acted like you were a virgin. Was that… was that just an act?”
“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice cracking. “I didn’t mean to—”
“There wasblood on the sheets. How did it get there?” he roared.
A tremor travelled through her. In all their years together, Marcus had never raised his voice at her. But she was stripped bare now; there was nothing left to yield but the truth.
“It was chicken blood,” she whispered.
Blue flames leapt in his eyes, and then he was looking at her as if she were something he’d scraped off his shoe. As if he were seeing her for the first time—and what he saw disgusted him. She didn’t blame him. Even as self-revulsion made her stomach roil, she stumbled to her feet, held out a pleading hand.
“I was wrong to deceive you, Marcus. What I did was unforgivable. But I did all of it because I loved you so much—”
“Love?” Never had the word sounded ugly coming from his lips, but now it cracked like a whip. “Pandora—if that is even your name—you don’t know what love is. If you did, you would not have betrayed me from the moment we met.”
She’d faced death more than once, and yet her fear now made all past experiences fade to nothingness. Terror filled her lungs, closed over her head, waves and waves of it. Frantically, she fought to stay afloat.
“We’ve been happy. All I’ve ever wanted was to make you happy.” Tears streaming down her face, she touched his sleeve. “Please, Marcus, I can make things right—”
