Eliza felt something break inside her chest. “Are you saying you don’t care about me?”
“I’m saying…” He stopped, took a breath. “I’m saying that caring this much was never part of the plan. I married you to protect you from your parents. To give you my name and my resources. Not to,” he gestured helplessly between them. “Not this. This is too much… investment.”
“Can that life include you?” Eliza pressed once more, her voice barely above a whisper. “The life you want me to have—does it include you in it?”
Morgan met her eyes, and she saw the answer in his deep green eyes before he spoke another word.
This is it…
“Not in the way you need,” he said quietly. “I am sorry, but this is beyond my control. I cannot… I cannot do this.”
The tears Eliza had been holding back finally spilled over.
“I see.”
“Eliza—”
“No.” She held up a hand, stopping him. “You’ve made yourself abundantly clear, Your Grace. You want a marriage of convenience now that things have become hard.”
“I’m doing this for you?—”
“Separate lives. Cordial distance.”
“Many marriages are this way. It is for the best. I am who I am, I was foolish to think another alternative would be possible.”
Her voice broke on the last word. “I understand.”
“This… arrangement will benefit you. You will have freedoms as a woman, you will be able to?—”
“Don’t.” The word came out sharp, cutting. “Don’t you dare tell me this is for my benefit. This is about you, Morgan. Your fear. Your inability to trust in anything good because you’re so convinced it will be taken away. This is of your making, not mine.”
She moved to the door, her vision blurred with tears.
“Eliza, wait?—”
But she didn’t wait. She walked out, closing the door softly behind her.
Morgan sat in his study the following day, mid-morning, staring at the same page he’d been staring at for the past hour. He hadn’t seen Eliza since their argument. She’d taken breakfast in her rooms. Skipped luncheon entirely. And when dinner time came, Jenkins had quietly informed him that Her Grace would be dining in her chambers. The house felt wrong without her presence.
Too quiet. Too empty. But… this is for the best. Creating distance now will save pain later.
But the words felt hollow. He kept seeing the look on her face when he’d said those words. The hurt. The betrayal. He’d done that. He’d put that look in her eyes.
Not in the way you need.
“Your Grace?”
Morgan looked up to find Jenkins in the doorway, holding a tray with biscuits and hot tea. While the scent hit his nose pleasantly, it made his stomach turn.
“I thought you might require some sustenance, sir. You didn’t eat dinner.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Nevertheless.” Jenkins set the tray down, then hesitated. “If I may speak freely, Your Grace?”
Morgan almost said no. But something in Jenkins’s expression stopped him. “Go ahead,” he growled.
“I’ve been in your service for many years, sir. And in that time, I’ve never seen you as happy as you’ve been these past few weeks with Her Grace.” Jenkins met his eyes. “It would be a shame to see?—”
