She released his hand, folding her palms together. “I don’t suppose I was suited to marry Lord Lisford.”
“You will find someone,” he promised. “And you’ll be happy.”
“So will you,” she said. “If you’re willing to open your eyes and try.”
For a heart-stopping moment, he thought she was talking about the two of them. He had a sudden vision of Amelia Andrews reachingout to embrace him. He suspected she wouldn’t know how to kiss a man. Innocent and untouched, he imagined the taste of her soft lips, the touch of her hands.
Desire roared through him, and he was stunned at the dormant needs that had suddenly flared to life. No. Not now, not with an impulsive slip of a girl. He wasn’t ready to let go of Katherine. This marriage was meant for Christine, not him.
Before he could speak another word, Amelia added, “If not my sister, then perhaps Miss Harrow or someone else on the list.”
He inhaled a sharp breath, thankful that he’d misunderstood her. “Perhaps.”
Margaret returned to them, and her face was flushed as if she’d been running. A few strands of hair were loose around her face, and he suspected what that meant. He risked a glance at Amelia, wondering if she knew what her sister had been doing.
“I am sorry,” Margaret said quickly. Without explaining her reasons, she said brightly, “What did I miss whilst I was gone?”
David sent a conspiratorial look toward Amelia. “Nothing. We were merely discussing the weather.”
Beatrice walked inside her bedroom and was startled to see Henry standing in front of her wardrobe, staring at her gowns.
“Is something the matter?” She couldn’t understand why he was here. Although he was her husband and had every right to be in her bedchamber, it seemed as if he’d been searching her belongings. It was almost intrusive.
Henry didn’t move from his position, and he touched one of the day dresses. “When was the last time you bought a new gown for yourself?”
“Five years ago,” Beatrice admitted. And truthfully, she’d been ashamed to wear it. She’d felt as if she were trying to be one of the debutantes, seeking a husband. When another gentleman had given her his attention, it had unnerved her. She was past forty, well beyond the days when being beautiful meant something.
She resisted the urge to close the wardrobe. “I don’t really need new clothes, Henry. Our girls need gowns more than I do.” It was embarrassing to see him touching one of her gowns. The muslin had frayed at the hem, and the color had faded over time.
“Were things that bad when I was at war,” he asked quietly, “that you felt you couldn’t afford new clothing?”
She didn’t want to tell him the truth. Yes, ithadbeen that bad. They had been living in the Highlands where it was nearly impossible to bring in food and supplies during the winter. She’d given up her own portion of food on several occasions, not wanting the girls to go hungry. They had survived—but barely.
He closed the wardrobe door. “It was, wasn’t it?” A moment later, he reached for her wrist, his strong palm touching her bare skin. “I noticed that most of your jewelry is gone. Including the sapphire bracelet I gave you.”
A harsh lump closed up her throat, and she willed the tears back. “I sold it to pay for the things we needed.”
He said nothing for a long time. The silence hung between them with the weight of a marriage.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked at last.
“Because even if I had, you couldn’t come home. And your brother controlled the estates at that time.” Henry’s older brother had spent money on whatever he wanted, so much that when her husband inherited the title upon his death, they had also inherited the debts.
“I would have found a way to help you,” he said.
“I didn’t want to trouble you with our problems when you were so far away.” She traced the outline of the wardrobe, not wanting to look at him. The dark expression on his face was a blend of anger and sadness.
“You’re my wife,” he said. “I would have done something.” His hand slid from her wrist down to her palm.
“We learned to take care of ourselves,” Beatrice said. And though it had been so hard, she’d found a strength she hadn’t known about. “And I never needed sapphires and diamonds.”
I needed a husband, she thought inwardly.Someone to hold me at night when I was afraid.
“Where is the bracelet now?”
“I don’t know. I sent it to Charlotte and she gave me the money for it. I suppose she sold it to a jeweler.”
He released her palm. “We’re not destitute, Beatrice. If you want new gowns and jewels, buy whatever you want. I’ll take care of the bills.”
