No matter.
Wed was wed.
When Giles claimed his title back, she had no doubt that romantic tales would be spun about their wedding.
And they would be completely wrong.
Again.
“One of my maids has a friend who has a friend in Rafferty’s household. Apparently, after reading the paper this morning, he threw a teacup against the wall.”
Alyssia set down the paper and reached for her tea. “Is that so?” The corners of her lips twitched.
Annabelle nodded. “I wish I could have seen it firsthand.”
“Me too,” Alyssia echoed the sentiment. It would have gone a small way to smoothing the hurt he’d caused.
“Have you told your husband about what happened?”
Alyssia grimaced and shook her head. “No, and I’m not going to tell him.”
“Whyever not?”
“Giles has his own troubles to deal with.” She didn’t need to add any of her own. Besides, hers didn’t matter anymore. She was done. What was done was done. All she wanted to do now was move on from the ordeal.
“They were friends years ago, were they not?” Annabelle asked. “He’s going to find out one way or another. He might already know.”
That gave her pause. Giles might already know? He would have said something, she was sure. But then, she didn’t know him well enough anymore to claim that, did she? “If he knows, then he knows.”
“My mother always says that the key to an amiable marriage is conversation. One must have conversations with one’s partner every day.”
Even if it felt as though her teeth were being pulled?
Liar. That’s not how you feel at all.
Itwashow she felt. A little bit.
“Make sure to take your mother’s advice in the future,” Alyssia murmured, taking a sip of tea.
Her friend scoffed. “What will you do if your husband rekindles a friendship with Rafferty? Have you thought about that? A conversation would clear it all up.”
She had thought about it, and then promptly decided not to think about it any further. That was a matter to deal with when it came. At the moment, only a handful of people even knew about Giles’s return, so there was no use in dwelling on certain things now. “Let us have that conversation later, then.”
Annabelle shrugged. “It’s your choice. Have you penned a note to your father?”
Alyssia nodded. “This morning.” She shuddered. “He will not be happy.” Hopefully, he didn’t come rushing back to London. She’d done her best to reassure him without giving away too many of the details.
“Yes, well, there is nothing he can do about it unless he discovers you haven’t consummated the marriage and wants to try to force an annulment.”
“Aren’t you a marvelous ray of sunlight, Annabelle?” Could her father do that? There was no way for him to discover the truth.
“Come now, no need to sound to put out. I am merely the voice of reason and consequence.”
“What’s the use of there being two such voices?” She was well aware of her own situation.
“To bounce ideas off each other?”
Alyssia shook her head. “You are both impossible.”
