Norman stiffened but said nothing.
“And then, after a couple of years of this, he went off to war,” Susan continued. “I suppose he thought he would win himself some glory, but I don’t care what his reason for going was—only that he was gone. Leah took her son and fled to Scotland, and she’s there still, hiding at one of our father’s estates. But we all live in fear that he might return from the war and come to find Leah. That he’ll resume his abuse of her, and of her child.”
Norman nodded slowly. “And that’s why you don’t want Marina to marry.”
“I do want her to marry.” Susan’s eyes filled with tears. “Of course I do. I think Gilbert loves her, and I want that to be true. I know she loves him. I want her to be able to have that happiness in her life. It’s not right that George should steal that from her. But at the same time… as kind as Gilbert seems, everyone thought that George was kind at first. And he turned out to be a monster. What if we’re wrong this time too? I just couldn’t bear it if anything were to happen to Marina.”
The first few tears spilled down her cheeks, and she turned away from him, staring hard out the window.
She couldn’t believe she had told him all that.
Even with Marina, Susan never spoke about what had happened to Leah. It was too painful. Most days, she couldn’t even bear to let herself think about it.
And now she had told Norman everything. He knew the whole excruciating story. Finally, he understood why she hadn’t wanted to marry him.
He didn’t speak another word to her for the rest of the journey home. But he didn’t take his eyes off her, either. He watched her quietly, softly, and in his gaze was something more tender than Susan had ever seen there before.
CHAPTER 20
Norman was drifting off to sleep two nights later when a soft knock at his door brought him back to wakefulness.
For a moment, he was frustrated. He didn’t like to be disturbed after he had gone to bed.The staff knows better.
But wait a moment—the staffdidknow better. If someone was knocking…
He got out of bed and put on his dressing gown. Whatever this was, it couldn’t be ignored. He pulled open the door.
Susan stood on the other side, fist raised, ready to knock again.
“Oh,” she said. “I’m sorry. Were you… you were going to sleep.”
“Well, it is the middle of the night,” she pointed out.
Her cheeks went red. “Right,” she said. “I know. I mean—I’m sorry.”
“What brings you here?” If she was going to offer him an heir again, he didn’t know what he would say. Itcouldn’tbe that—not after the story she had shared about her sister. The last thing she would want would be to have a man take her to bed out of any sort of obligation. He wouldn’t do it. And yet…
There she stood in her nightclothes. Her soft hair spilled loose around her shoulders, and he wanted to bury his hands in it. He wanted to inhale the scent of her. He had never been hungrier for another person in all his life.
“The window in my room is broken,” Susan said.
His reverie shattered. “Broken? What do you mean?”
“It’s the storm,” she explained. “Something hit it. I didn’t see what—it might have been a broken tree branch. It just shattered. The sound woke me up.”
As if on cue, thunder clapped outside. The storm had been raging for the past day and a half, and Susan and Norman had been stuck in the house. It was an odd set of circumstances, Norman had thought more than once. They were supposed to be stuck in the house together right now, but for an entirely different reason. It was as if the weather was trying to force them into observing the honeymoon neither of them had properly taken an interest in.
And now a window had broken. “I’ll have the staff move your things to one of the spare rooms,” he said, pulling the bell by his door. “You can stay there until the window can be fixed.”
She hesitated.
“Is there more?”
“I just…” she swallowed. “It frightened me. I’m sorry. Waking up to that crash… I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep now.” She shook her head. “This is embarrassing. I don’t know why I’m telling you this, it isn’t your problem.”
“Of course it is,” he countered. “You’re my wife.”
“I don’t know what that has to do with anything.”
