“Emilia,” Wren breathed, his expression crumpling ever so slightly.
She shrugged, tears brightening her expression. “The changes happened so slowly over the years. He became more distant, and then more sharp and then cruel in his words.”
“Why?” Wren breathed.
“Because he wanted heirs and spares and I didn’t provide them,” she explained, her cheeks staining red. “God, how he hated me for it.Despisedme for it. In the last few years, especially, he would rail at me about what a bad trade he made in me as a wife. And in the last year?—”
She broke off and turned her head. Aiden squeezed her hand gently and she looked at him, her eyes bright with tears. Clearly she couldn’t continue and so he drew a shaky breath and said, “Emilia believes that he…that he tried to kill her.”
* * *
Emilia
Emilia felt like she was going to vomit as Aiden said the words she, herself, couldn’t. That feeling multiplied as Wren sank back against the settee cushions, his expression shocked and pale. She was dragging the two people she loved more than any other into something so ugly and cruel. It was what she’d tried to prevent for years as she lived her lonely life and only dreamed of them.
“Wh-why do you think that?” Wren stammered at last, his voice trembling now.
She swallowed hard. “I got very ill a few months ago. I thought little of it until our cook whispered to me not to eat the soup. She was terrified and I didn’t understand. I didn’t want to, I suppose. But I realized that night that Wilburnneverate it. I-I believe he was poisoning it. When I stopped eating it, I got better. And his frustration with me multiplied as I recovered. He then became very vocal that his life would be better if I were dead.”
Wren pushed to his feet and started for the door. “I’ll kill him myself. I’ll kill him with my bare hands.”
Aiden was up before Emilia could be. He caught Wren’s arms, yanking him back, keeping him from exiting the cottage. Wren fought him for a moment and then turned, collapsing against him as he shook.
“I know,” Aiden whispered close to his ear. “I know, I felt the same way when Emilia reached out.”
“Then how can you not want to rip him apart?” Wren growled.
“If you think I don’t then you have forgotten a great deal about me,” Aiden said. “But my main goal is toprotectEmilia. And storming off to confront her husband may not do that. Itcouldmake things worse.”
Wren’s jaw tightened and Emilia caught her breath. She knew that look so well—Wren had always done that when he was frustrated. Then he let out a ragged sigh and rested his head forward on Aiden’s shoulder. She was warmed by their support of each other.
“What can we do?” Aiden asked softly.
Wren lifted his head and stepped back, running a hand through his thick, dark hair and making himself look attractively bed-tousled in the process. He paced for a moment, his lips thin.
“I can…I can write some letters to the man about my so-called investigation,” he said, nodding as if in agreement with his burgeoning plan. “I’ll use contacts so that they seem to come from far away. I’ll draw him off the track with false leads. And it will buy us some time to decide how to best proceed.”
“Thank you,” Emilia said, relief flooding her, not just that he had ideas in mind that might help her, but also that he was no longer intent on rushing off to confront her husband.
Wren glanced toward Emilia, holding her gaze steady. “What you’ve been through, I…I cannot imagine. Though I always knew your strength, I see it even more here now.”
Emilia’s breath caught. “I fear I haven’t earned that compliment, Wren. I haven’t felt strong in the last seven years. All I’ve done in that time is try to survive. And missed you.” She looked toward Aiden behind Wren. “Both of you. I missed…usall these years. What kept me going was dreaming of you two…thinking about what could have been.”
Wren stared at her for a long moment and then he closed the distance between them in a long step. He reached his hand up to touch her cheek, traced the line of it until his fingers glided into her hair. She couldn’t breathe now, just stare into the darkness of his blue eyes and feel all the passion and love and desire she had lacked in her years as Lady Wilburn.
And when he bent his head to kiss her, she surrendered to it, just as she had to Aiden before Wren’s arrival. But where Aiden had been gentle, Wren was something different. Not cruel, never that, but more demanding, more forceful. She opened to him, lifting against his chest, losing herself in his warmth and protection.
“I’m sorry,” he said, pulling away with a shake of his head.
“I’m not,” she whispered. “I never could be.”
Aiden stepped up, his pupils dilated with clear desire after seeing Wren kiss her. It made Emilia shiver to see it. To feel the crackling tension between them all.
“You must be exhausted, Wren,” Aiden said. “Can I get you tea?”
Wren nodded. “Yes.”
“Sit with her and I’ll prepare it.” He smiled at them both and then slipped away, allowing Emilia a moment alone with Wren.
