“But doesn’t it make things simpler?”
She only narrowed her eyes, more confused than ever.
“I mean to say… I’m sorry for you, if it’s something you want. But it makes things simpler for us if there’s no chance of a child.”
She seemed to think he was stupid. “But don’t you want an heir?”
Oh.
Something like horror flashed across her face even before he heard himself say, “Yes, with my wife.”
She pushed him back, hands shoving his chest then dragging her skirts down as she stood up from the desk. “And I’m not to be your wife.” Her voice was high and strange.
“Madelaine…”
“Don’t call me that! Don’t you ever call me that. You thought I would do this…” She jerked an angry hand between them. “You thought I would dothiswithout marriage.” Her voice broke on the word, but she gulped the tears back.
“I’ve never spoken of marriage to you. You’re a widow, not a maiden.” His own voice was stiff. But he had a right to be indignant, did he not? Didn’t he? “I made no false promises. But you can hardly think I mean to use you unfairly. I would make you my mistress. We would have an agreement.”
“Mistress!”
She gasped. It seemed to stab her because she bent over, hand to her stomach. “Your mistress…and I thought you spoke of love…I thought you meant… And I have spent weeks and weeks fighting this, trying to make it right with God, with my heart, with my soul, with…withhim, and all this time you…you…”
“I never said I didn’t love you.”
Her incredulous laugh was wet with tears, her eyes wide and staring. She was shaking like a rabbit in a trap, breathing like the world was ending. He took a step towards her.
He’d done this. Unwittingly, unintentionally, but still…he’d done this to her.
“Many men love their mistresses.” She didn’t seem to realise what he was saying, didn’t believe it. “They love them without caring a straw for their wife.”
“You think that argument ishelpful?You think that makes any of this better?”
“Madelaine.” He gritted his jaw as her eyes flared with anger and she held up a hand. “Very well,Mrs Ardingly.”Control. He would bring this mess back under his control.“I am not the villain here. I apologise for the misapprehension you’ve been under, but I believed you worldly enough to understand how society works. You surely realise the type of wife I require. You surely realise I have very little freedom to choose.”
“My uncle did.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“My uncle. Lord Pemberthy. A country parson’s daughter was good enough for him.”
His lip curled. “And look how society responded. They were shunned. His family standing ruined forever.”
“Of course.” She nodded to herself, looking away, smoothing the mess he’d made of her dress with agitated, hasty hands. “Of course that’s what matters to you.” She nodded again, firmer this time. “You’re right, Lord Cotereigh. You made no false promises. You have been nothing other than what you are. I am at fault for forgetting it.”
Her admission didn’t feel like a victory. As she drew herself up, proud and collected, it felt very much the opposite. Something cold crept into him as he realised what this conversation really meant.
It was over.
He would not have Mrs Ardingly in any way. Not as lover or mistress. Not as friend. She would remove herself from his life, and for all his rank and status and wealth, there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.
“Please…”
But his pathetic whisper was lost under the rustle of her skirts as she straightened them, fixing her hair with one last scathing look in his direction.
“Thank you for all your help with our society, Lord Cotereigh. But you may retire your position on the committee. My eldest brother is more than willing to take your place. No, you do not need to escort me back to the ballroom. I am perfectly capable of finding my own way. Good day to you.”
She gave one last lift of her chin before she walked out.
