“Felicity,” he said, then shook his head. “I’m sorry—Lady Barbridge. I wasn’t expecting you.”
She stiffened at his formal address of her. How she hated it, just as she had the night before. But she was also grateful for it, because it shook her out of her fog of attraction for this man and made her remember exactly what she was here for.
She closed the door behind her and took a step toward him as she hardened her face, hardened her voice, hardened her heart.
“I realize you were expecting Stenfax,” she said. “But plans have changed.”
“Plans?” he said, tilting his head slightly. “What plans do you have for me, my lady?”
There was a hint of teasing to his tone. An underlying kindness and boyish charm that almost melted her heart. She couldn’t let it.
“If it were up to me, Asher, there would be no plans,” she said through gritted teeth. “You see, I don’t want you here.”
Asher heard Felicity’s words, spoken in the cold, formal tone of a woman brimming with disdain for him. But her voice and her words didn’t move him as much as her expression did. Under the coldness, under the stiff formality, he saw pain slashed across her face, unmistakable in her eyes. And he couldn’t help but think of a time when all she’d had in those same eyes was bright innocence.
Something had happened to her. Something far more terrible than what her brother had hinted at. This wasn’t mere trouble—this was utter devastation.
His heart broke for her. “If you don’t want me here, Felicity, then whyamI?” he asked, his tone soft, he hoped soothing.
Her eyes fluttered shut when he said her given name. He could tell how much the intimacy of its use affected her. It affected him, as well.
But this wasn’t about him.
She opened her eyes and stared at him, holding his gaze evenly, almost defiantly. “What do you know about my life after youleft?”
She emphasized the last word and he stiffened. Her subtle accusation was not something he appreciated. Nor deserved, at least in his mind. But now was not the time to argue or explain that.
“After you married, not much,” he admitted. He didnotadmit that after her marriage, he hadn’twantedto know much. It hurt too much. “My father left the service of your family so soon after, I was cut off from most information.”
Her expression softened slightly. “How is your father?”
He drew back at her unexpected veer from the subject at hand, but he shrugged. “He has a nice little cottage about a day and a half’s carriage ride from here and is well, despite the pain in his hands.” He leaned closer. “But you are stalling, Felicity.”
Her lips pinched at his accusation. “Yes, I suppose I am.”
He had a strong urge to reach out and place a hand on her arm. To let his strength and his warmth comfort her because she clearly needed it right now. But that wasn’t his place. His father’s words from six years ago echoed in his head.
You must see now, you aren’t one of them.
Touching her would not be welcome. Worse, touching her would make everything so much harder for him. She was already an almost undeniable temptation as it was and she was standing five feet away.
“You can tell me,” he said softly. “I won’t judge you.”
“You can’t promise that,” she said, her tone sharp. Then her shoulders rolled forward. “But I said I would tell you, so I suppose I must. You mentioned my marriage.Thatis why Stenfax asked you here.”
Asher stared at her, brow wrinkling in confusion. “Your marriage? You’ve been a widow for years, Felicity—my understanding is that all the legal threads have been tied up. What in the world could my coming here have to do with your marriage?”
She bit her lip and her chest lifted faster, as if she were having a hard time catching her breath. He saw the fear in her eyes, the pain as she clenched her hands at her sides.
“Everyone believes my husband died in a hunting accident,” she whispered, her voice rough and so low he had to move closer to fully understand her. “But…but it isn’t true, Asher.”
She lifted her gaze to him and her eyes were filled with panic and terror. He wanted so much to help her, to ease it.
“Then how did he die?” he asked, her demeanor making him fear the answer. Dread it.
“I…I killed him,” she finally said on a low and broken sob that cut through him as deeply and as thoroughly as any knife would have done. “And someone may know it.”
Chapter Four
