He wanted it to happen again.
She had been dodging his company ever since, and that was a good thing, because he had no idea what he was going to say to her when next they spoke to one another.
He signaled one of the maids to bring tea into the sitting room and made his way to his favorite chair. Aunt Tabitha sat opposite him, in the seat she always took when she came calling. She eyed him carefully.
“So you say you enjoyed the ball?” she asked.
“Aunt Tabitha, I sincerely hope you aren’t here to levy accusations at my wife again,” he said. He would head this off here and now. “If that’s what you’ve come to do, I’m going to have to stop you, because I truly do not wish to hear it. I know who she is, and I know her reasons for marrying me. That ought to be more than enough for you.”
Aunt Tabitha leaned forward. “Norman, I regret the way I spoke to your wife,” she said gently. “You were right to stop me. I was too accusatory, and much too forward.”
“Oh.” Norman was taken aback—he hadn’t expected to receive an apology so quickly. He’d thought he would have to fight for it. “Well… thank you for saying so.”
“But that doesn’t mean that I was entirely wrong,” she continued. “The way I expressed my concern—yes, that was wrong. But the things I was concerned about may not have been. I still want to discuss that with you, if you will allow me.”
“We can talk about it,” he said slowly. “But you may not bring this up in front of Susan ever again. She shouldn’t have to worry that she is being questioned when she hasn’t done anything wrong.”
Aunt Tabitha nodded. “Where is she today?”
“She’s out on a promenade with her sister. They’ve gone to the park. I don’t expect them back for a few hours.”
“Then now is a fine time for the two of us to discuss this?”
“I want to give you the opportunity to get it off your chest,” Norman said. “So yes, let us talk about it now. But please know that this is the very last time I will want to have this conversation. So I hope you say everything you want to say.”
She nodded. “I think that’s more than fair.”
The maid returned with the tea, and for a few moments the two of them were quiet as they were served. Aunt Tabitha smiled at the maid as she accepted her cup, then waited until they were alone before continuing to speak.
“Norman,” she said. “You are not in love with your wife.”
It wasn’t what he had expected to hear. “I never claimed to be.”
“Of course you did. Everything you’ve done since you met her has been about claiming to be in love with her. Not just the wedding, although that is part of it, but the way you two treat one another in public. You want everyone to believe you are in love with her.”
He shrugged. “Perhaps I do. But you never fell for the charade. What difference does it make? I’m hardly the first man to marry for convenience.”
“No,” she agreed. “You aren’t. But I wanted better for you. And what’s more… you wanted better for yourself.”
“I don’t know what you mean.” He sipped his tea.
“You do know what I mean,” she countered. “When you learned that you had inherited Heathmare, what was your first thought? I know it wasn’t about how you could advance your business interests or blend into London society. What did you think of the situation?”
He pressed his lips together, seeing where she was going and not liking it. “I thought that I would be losing my freedom.”
“That was what mattered to you,” she agreed. “And it’s what has always mattered to you—having the freedom to make your own choices. You want to be able to choose who you marry.”
“I did choose,” he said lamely.
“You chose based on obligation, not on love. You felt you needed money and social standing. Isn’t that right?”
“You say it as if this was some opinion of mine,” he said. “Ididneed those things. I continue to need them.”
“But you have them now. Thanks to your marriage to Susan, you have her dowry, and you’ve entered into business with her father. And Susan—you say she didn’t marry you out of a desire to become a duchess.”
“That’s right.”
“And I know that wasn’t for love. She hardly knew you.”
