Tibby followed the direction of her gaze. “He’s kind, isn’t he? The boys worship him.”
“Mmm. I’m looking forward to our picnic in the New Forest,” Callie said brightly. “I’ve never seen so much food.” She didn’t want to talk about Gabriel’s kindness. Kindness was more dangerous than handsomeness.
Tibby looked at her. “I must say, Count Anton was not at all as I’d expected him to be.”
“I know. That’s the trouble. He seems too good-looking to be so evil. It makes people unwilling to believe the worst of him.”
“Is there much family resemblance between him and your husband?”
Callie nodded. “Rupert’s eyes were exactly the same as Count Anton’s—that pale ice-gray color. Rupert’s hair was darker golden in coloring and he was taller and broader: a big, handsome golden bull.”
“Rupert sounds quite attractive.” Tibby made it a gentle query.
“Yes, he was. Very.”
“I was so worried about you. You were so young, so sheltered, and the prince so much older. It was the time I most regretted being poor; not able to afford to travel with you to be at your wedding. You must have felt so alone.”
Callie stared out the window at the passing scenery. “You needn’t have worried, Tibby. My wedding day was the happiest day of my life.”
“Oh, my dear, I am so glad.”
“I fell madly in love with Rupert, if not at first sight—as you said, I was very shy and naive—but in the weeks before the wedding. He courted me, showered me with jewels and expensive gifts.” Most of them were now sewn into her petticoat. She could not regret them, at least. They would give her and Nicky a new life.
“Rupert was charming and attentive and gallant.” She sighed, remembering. She’d been almost dizzy with the excitement of it all, the constant attention paid to her by such a magnificent golden creature. He was forty, but she hadn’t thought of him as old, just glamorous and sophisticated. Godlike.
“It was like being Cinderella. Every day we’d go out driving in the streets of the city and he’d give me flowers and the people would wave and cheer and he would put his arm around me and kiss me, and oh, Tibby, it was like everything we’d ever talked about, everything I’d ever dreamed of. He was Galahad and Young Lochinvar and—well, you know what I mean—so romantic.”
“My dear girl, I am happy to know it. You have no idea what torments I suffered when your father took you away. To be married to a man so much your elder, I felt sure it could not be a happy union.”
Callie fell silent and looked out the window.
After several moments Tibby ventured, “It was, wasn’t it? If he was everything you’d ever dreamed of…”
“No. It wasn’t. I was playing make-believe.”
“Oh.”
“I learned later he didn’t love me at all. He’d never loved me. He didn’t even like me much. It was all for show, and because he was so handsome and charming and he was so experienced and I was just a stupid, dreamy, romantic, gullible child—” She broke off, the familiar, bitter taste of shame welling up in her throat.
Tibby placed her hand over Callie’s. “I’m sorry, my dear, so sorry.”
Callie shook her head and tried to smile. “It’s all a long time ago now. I was another person then.” She was relieved that Tibby hadn’t asked how she’d come to discover that Rupert didn’t love her. Not even to Tibby could she reveal that. It might be a long time ago, but some scars went deep. They could still cause pain.
“You are still young,” Tibby began. “You could try again—”
“No! I couldn’t bear it!” She took a steadying breath and said in a light tone, “I won’t ever make the mistake of marrying again. You have no idea how much I’m looking forward to directing my own life, choosing what I do or wear or eat or read. I won’t give up my independence for anything.” She gave Tibby a bright smile.
Tibby, undeceived, said nothing, only squeezed Callie’s hand.
Callie gazed out the window, forcing composure to return. She would not cry. She had wasted a lifetime of tears on Rupert.
Never again. Not on Rupert, not on any man.
Not even a kind one.
She caught a glimpse of the curricle up ahead. Rupert had been kind to animals and children, too. The way he treated Nicky was not a matter of unkindness—just insensitivity. He was hard on Nicky for Nicky’s sake. He thought it the right thing to do.
The cruelty had lain in Rupert’s inability to hide his disappointment in his son.
