Her ear caught on a sound downstairs.
Perhaps someone else was unable to sleep as well.
Louisa made her way down the main staircase, crossing her bare feet in front of her with each step, taking her time. She had a feeling she knew who it was, and if correct, he would be awake for some time.
Louisa peered into the main drawing room, but upon finding it empty, she continued on to the others, giving each a quick perusal. And then she found him in the kitchen, sitting on a stool by the counter and helping himself to a late-night snack.
“Care to share?” she asked, causing Henry to jerk and spin toward her.
He smiled around a mouthful of cornbread, then held the plate up in the air in offering. “Help yourself.”
“Happy to.” She sat in a chair next to him, taking one of the smaller pieces of sweet, tender cornbread.
Henry swallowed his bite, eyeing her carefully. “What is on your mind? It is not often you walk the halls at night.”
“No, it is not. I suppose, subconsciously, I thought you might be awake.”
“And I assume whatever is on your mind has to do with Boroux?”
Louisa nodded, tears welling in her eyes. “Yes. He has . . .” She paused, taking a steadying breath.
“I knew you shouldn’t have married that man.” Henry tossed the remainder of his bread down, rubbing his forehead. “He does not deserve you. But now, it is too late.”
Louisa leaned down, crossing her arms over the counter and resting her head on them. “No. It is rather the opposite, in fact.”
“The opposite? I don’t understand.”
“No, you never have, have you? I never wanted to marry, Henry.”
“Yes, and I told you not to marry the duke, yet you insisted.”
“Thereason,” she said, enunciating her point that he had not thought to ask, “had to do with not wanting to love my husband. Not romantically, anyway.”
“Wait.” Henry sat up, brow furrowing as he studied her. “You do not want to love him? So what is this about?”
“The truth of the matter is I had never wanted to be hurt like Mother was. I never wanted someone to hold that power over me. Someone who could break my heart by simply not existing anymore.”
“So why did you leave, Louisa?”
“Because he loves me.” She turned her head so it was buried in her arms and Henry could not see her face.
“For pity’s sake,” Henry hissed under his breath. “This is the most ridiculous problem I have ever heard of.”
“Excuse me?” Louisa’s head shot up. “Just because you do not understand it does not mean my feelings are to be thrown aside. I watched our mother mourn Father. I still do, to this very day. So do not tell me how I get to feel about it.” She braced her hands on the counter, standing and spinning about.
Henry took her elbow before she got more than a step away. “Louisa, wait.”
“Why should I?” She kept her back to him.
“Because I want to talk to you about this.”
She huffed a breath, deciding if she wished to speak with him or not. But why else was she here? She could not run away from Robert forever. Eventually, a decision would need to be made . . . whatever that turned out to be. For now, this house was a safe place for her to figure out her thoughts and feelings.
“Fine.” She turned back, sitting down and finishing the rest of her bread with one large bite.
“Let me get this straight.” Henry held his hands up in the air. “The duke loves you, but you do not want to love him.”
“Yes.” She nodded.
