Disappointed he hadn’t argued with her, she kept silent, not a little miffed. What did he mean by asking what she would do in her home? She would do what any other widow did. What did his mother do?
As Silver Meadows finally came into view, she couldn’t help asking the question that had been on her mind since confronting him mere days ago. Not knowing if they would have the privacy to discuss it at another time, she steeled herself for his reaction. “Why did you not seek me out when you returned to England?”
His jaw tightened, but he didn’t look at her. “I told you. I discovered you were a widow. I saw no reason to disturb your life.”
The Marcus she had known wouldn’t have thought twice about storming up her parents’ steps and demanding her presence. Had he indeed changed that much or was there something else? Her heart hitched. Or was theresomeoneelse? The Mariel he’d known wouldn’t dare ask, but she was far beyond playing coy with him. “Was there someone else you had hoped to marry?”
He slowed the phaeton as he brought it before the grand steps to Silver Meadows. When it came to a stop, he finally looked at her. His gaze was unguarded and for the briefest moment she saw pain. Was it heartache for someone else?
Then, as if remembering where he was, his expression changed. “Hardly. I’ve had no time to be social, which has allowed me to agree to your proposal. Do you think I would do so with another waiting for me?” It was quite clear he was insulted.
Not wanting to part on such a sentiment, she waved off the footman who’d come to assist her down. “No, I apologize. I simply search for the true reason you have been in hiding. I meant no slur on your character.”
He gave a curt nod, but did not reiterate that it was her widowhood that had kept him away, which made her think she was correct, there had been something else.
“Were you wounded then and recovering?”
His hand tightened on his thigh. “I was. I believe that is why my family was notified I had died. My injuries were many.”
Concern had her lifting her hand, but at his stern visage, she set it back in her lap. “That is understandable. Thank you for telling me.” She waved to the footman, who helped her descend. She turned back to thank him for the outing, but didn’t get the chance.
“I have been healed well over three years now and living in England the past two. You will hear from me soon.” With that, he set the horses in motion and turned them to exit the long drive.
She stood with her mouth agape. Well over two years? In other words, he could have contacted her then. He could have let her think he was unable to contact her, but he made a point to let her know hechosenot to. She closed her mouth and put her hands on her hips. It appeared that the older Marcus Stratton was far more rude and uncaring than the younger.
Dropping her hands, she turned and ascended the steps to the house. His attitude made her want to be rude in return. It was as if he wanted her to hate him. She paused just before reaching the door. Why would he want her to hate him? Having no answer, she continued into the house.
Chapter Six
Marcus tapped hismiddle finger on his desk, not seeing the morning paper he’d been reading. He couldn’t stop thinking of Mariel and her revelations of just two days before. All this time he’d held his resentment about her marriage like a fortification around his heart to keep him from wishing for a life he could never have, but now, she’d hit him with a cannon ball and left a gaping hole in his defenses.
Abruptly he stood, no longer able to sit and crossed the room. How could he continue with their false betrothal when he now knew she’d spoken the truth when she stated she only married to help her family? Was that why she’d worn his necklace throughout her marriage? Had she pined for him even then and into widowhood? If she had been true, he didn’t have the strength to resist her.
But he had to find a way. She deserved to have the children she desired, the children he couldn’t give her. He doubted she was barren. She wasn’t the first young wife to not deliver children to a much older man. Most likely, it was Lord Beaumont who had no seed left to give by his age.
He stopped in mid-pace. Was that why she blushed when he’d asked if her husband had hurt her? As much as he hated to, he tried to imagine an older man in bed with Mariel, a man desperate to sire a son to carry on the line. Had he cared about her at all? The answer was swift and sure– no. “Devil it.” His fingers curled into his palms. Did her family realize the sacrifice she had truly made for them? Again the answer came quickly. Mariel would never let anyone know of her pain. Fury rose hard and strong for the dead Lord Beaumont. The man had ruined her in his need for an heir and in the end failed at his goal.
Purposefully, he uncurled his fingers and rolled his shoulders, the muscles around his old bullet wound protesting his stiffness. If he wasn’t careful, his chest would soon start aching as well as his left arm and thigh. Forcing himself to move, he continued his pacing.
He could be making assumptions, but his gut told him he was correct or close to it. Mariel would never speak of it, but she didn’t have to. For the hundredth time, he wished he hadn’t seen what his men had done. Only in ignorance could he have survived whole. But war could take more than flesh and blood, something he’d never considered.
A knock at the door had him pausing. “Yes.”
Anthony stepped inside and halted. “Why do you look like you wish to kill me?”
He rubbed his thigh. “Memories, nothing more.”
“Did you have another nightmare last night?”
“No. Just wishing for things to not be as they are. Come in.”
Anthony strolled forward, sympathy in his blue eyes. “I have the information you’ve been waiting for.”
It took him a moment to remember what task he’d set his friend to this time, but his mind wouldn’t leave his uncomfortable situation with Mariel. “What have you discovered?”
“It’s him.” At his blank stare, Anthony elaborated. “It’s Cobby. You were right, though how you saw the man’s face that clearly while fighting to hold your seat on Merlin is beyond my comprehension.”
“Fighting Merlin is second nature. Damn horse is like riding a tempest, and he’s as fast and strong as one. How were you able to confirm it was him? He was listed as deceased like the others.”
