“No,” she said quietly.
Outrage and incredulity seared through him. “Why the bloody hell not?”
“We just…didn’t.” She sat up, wrapped her arms around her raised knees. Her posture made her look young, a bit forlorn. “Most fashionable couples have separate bedchambers and don’t sleep together.”
“I’m not talking about most people; I’m talking about us.” He settled his back against the headboard, trying to understand the past he didn’t remember. Trying to keep a rein on his frustration and anger at himself. “Hell, Gabby, we set the sheets aflame together. More than that, I cannot fathom not wanting you beside me every night, even if we’re not making love.”
“Truly?”
The hope in her eyes was more than he could stand. “Sweetheart, didn’t you hear me? I’m falling in love with you.” He cupped her face in his hands and felt the preciousness of what he held. “Christ, I’m not falling—I’m bloodythere.”
“I love you.” A tear slid down her cheek. “I always have.”
“I’m not sure I deserve it.” He thumbed the moisture away. “What kind of a bastard did you marry, Gabby? What in blazes was wrong with me?”
“Nothing was wrong with you.” That was his wife, loyal to a fault. “You were just…different back then.”
“I was an idiot,” he said flatly.
“No more than I was.” She let go of a breath. “There were two of us in this marriage. I could have said something, tried to change things…but I didn’t.”
“What stopped you?”
She bit her lip. “I’ve been asking myself the same thing. Why didn’t I ask for what I wanted? Why didn’t I try to have these conversations that we’re having now? I don’t think I know all the answers yet.”
“You don’t have to have the answers.” He tucked a wayward tress behind her ear. “Just tell me what you’re thinking.”
Her eyes, so big and pure, searched his face. As if reassured by what she saw, she gave a quick nod, her hair rippling over her shoulders.
“When you asked me to marry you, I was ecstatic. In shock, truth be told, because I never, ever imagined a man like you would be interested in someone like me.”
He frowned, about to interrupt, but her rueful smile stopped him.
“You wanted to know what I’m thinking, and this is it,” she reminded him.
“Go on, then.”
“You were so handsome, powerful, and rich…you could have had anyone you wanted, but you chose me. A wallflower who was shunned, even at her own house party. Not only that, but you were kind to me. You listened to my silly woes and made me feel…important. I think I fell in love with you at that moment.” Her throat rippled. “When you proposed to me, you said you wanted a virtuous, trustworthy, and loyal wife. And I knew I could be those things—that Iwantedto be those things more than I’d ever wanted anything in my life. Because you were the kind of husband I’d always dreamed of having.”
The sincerity of her answer tautened his chest. He forced himself to remain quiet and listen, to let her release what she’d clearly been keeping to herself for so long.
“The only catch was that you said you didn’t believe in romantic love. I told myself it didn’t matter, especially because you offered other things that were just as important. Your affection, protection, and care. I have always felt those things from you, Adam. Always.”
He gave a terse nod, knowing that she was trying to reassure him. To lessen his responsibility when it was as clear as day that he’d had his head stuck up his arse. To his further frustration, he had no idea why.
“You were a good husband to me and father to our children. I was content. And even if I knew my love wasn’t returned, you were never cruel about it. Never made me feel stupid or awkward. On the contrary, you were ever so nice when I blurted out my feelings.”
“Nice?” He shoved a hand through his hair. “Christ, Gabby, you deserve so much more.”
“You gave me more than I’ve ever had in my whole life.” Her fervor hit him deep in his gut. “When I was a girl, I was…awkward. My mama died giving birth to me, Papa was busy with the bank, and I don’t think I ever really learned how to, well, get on with other people. My experiences at finishing school confirmed what I knew about myself: that I hadn’t much in the way of looks, charm, or accomplishments. That the only hope I had of making friends was to be as pleasing as I could, hide any unpleasant feelings, and always keep a cheerful demeanor.”
He knew it cost her to reveal these things to him. Her fingers were tightly clasped around her knees, the delicate knuckles white. A primitive part of him wanted to avenge her: to give whoever had hurt her what they deserved. But that reaction was selfish, for his own satisfaction. Knowing what his wife needed, he bridled his anger.
“You do not need to hide your feelings from me,” he said. “You don’t need to be cheerful if that isn’t how you’re feeling.”
“I know.” Her smile, bright and genuine, peeped out suddenly, like the sun from behind clouds. “Even though I’ve tried, I’ve never been able to hide my feelings from you. You’ve always seen through me…and what is more, you’ve accepted me. My tendency to worry and talk too much, all my different moods.”
He stroked her hair, feeling her tremble of pleasure. “You are perfect the way you are, love.”
