At his wife’s acerbic reply, James stilled.
“I beg your pardon?” he said slowly.
“You heard me.” Beneath her lowered brows, Evie’s eyes blazed with passion. “I read her note. I know she wants to get better acquainted with you—to discuss your future together.”
“Now wait one minute?—”
“She was certainly dressed for the occasion.”
“Christ.” He threw his hands up. “What does her bloody dress have to do with anything?”
“It has to do with everything. She sent you a flirtatious note. She dressed in a provocative gown, one she was practically falling out of, and arranged for the two of you to be alone at a cozy supper. I might not have caught you in flagrante...yet. But the intent was there.”
Rage surged, darkening the edges of his vision.
“How dare you,” he thundered. “Do you think so little of me that you would accuse me of such sordid trifling?”
“It is not you. It’s her. I know what I saw?—”
“Devil take you, Evie. I am done.”
He paced away from her and shoved at a chair, sent it toppling over before whirling to face his wife. She was wide-eyed, white-lipped…and beautiful. A beautiful stranger. One who did not know him—at all. Even as fury had a stranglehold, it was despair that knocked the breath from him.
“This isn’t about Lady Vernon. It is about you,” he said. “About the contempt you hold for your own husband. How long have you despised me? How long have you thought me a man without honor—a scoundrel capable of breaking his word and his vows?”
Evie wetted her lips.
“You had the right of it after all.” Weariness dragged at him like a sodden cloak. “I am an idiot for believing that, despite everything, there was hope for us. How could there be a future when you hold so little feeling for me? At least now I understand your indifference. From the start, you did not want this marriage, but fool that I was, I thought I could win you over. That you had a heart to win over. Now I see that I was wrong, and you were right. You don’t care about our marriage or me. You are not suited for intimacy, and I am done trying to make this work.”
He turned to go.
She grabbed his arm.
“No. That’s not true.”
He steeled himself against her pleading. “It is over, Evie.”
“I do care. I care too much.”
Clenching his jaw, he shook her off. “It is too late.”
He headed for the door. Evie somehow beat him to it, barring his way.
“Please listen,” she begged. “I know my behavior tonight was unseemly, but it wasn’t because I doubted you. I know you are a man of honor…how could I not when you married me because of it? When I see, day after day, how good and noble you are. To your family and friends, to the constituents you want to help. And most of all, to me.”
He quelled the quickening in his chest. He couldn’t allow himself to be pulled back into the cycle of hope and disappointment. He was done.
“I am not what you need,” he said flatly. “Perhaps the reverse is true as well. We have had our chances and failed to make each other happy.”
A tear trickled down her cheek.
“You are everything to me.” Her voice hitched. “The failures are mine, don’t you see? I have never deserved you, and I knew that from the start. That is why I refused you…because I knew I was not good enough for you.”
That had to be a lie, for it made no bloody sense.
“There is no need to grasp at straws,” he said curtly. “Let us give each other the courtesy of ending this with honesty.”
“I am being honest. I swear it, James. Why are you so dashed oblivious?”
