He cursed under his breath for his bad fortune and glanced at Broderick. Apparently, the past few moments of splendor had been a dream, and now reality reminded him he couldnottrust his wife. Kat only did nice things forherselfish purposes.
“Lady Burwell,” Kat continued in a shaky tone, “led me to believe this weekend gathering was for husbands and wives.”
Malcolm growled, bunching his hands into fists. “It is.”
“Then why should I feel discouraged in going? Do you not want me there?” Pain diminished the sweetness highlighting her eyes.
His chest constricted, and he attempted to crush the guilt that filled him. “Of course I want you there. Don’t be ridiculous,” he snapped.
“Then why—”
“Camilla,” he cut her off, “please ask your maid to pack your trunks sufficiently. I shall have my servant load my belongings posthaste.” He turned and walked with Broderick out the door, calling over his shoulder, “I’ll be late for supper tonight, so don’t wait.”
Malcolm strode down the stairs, anger burning within him like a raging storm. Why did his deceiving little wife want to come along? What was she up to? Had the missing puzzle piece to her new behavior just fallen into place? Did she want to come to the party in order to spy on him?
*
“Here we are.”
Ignoring Malcolm’s grumble as he stared out the carriage window, Camilla sat forward in her seat and admired the enormous estate. Full trees, the land, and green, rolling hills made it a splendid sight.
The Burwells’ three-story manor had at least three wings added to the structure circling around the backyard. She caught a glimpse of the rose garden that seemed to last forever. At the edge of the yard, a cluster of trees led into a small forest.
“Amazing,” she gasped.
“Yes, quite a sight, is it not?”
“Unbelievable.”
“And can you believe I drew up the plans?”
She swung her head around so hard it unbalanced her bonnet. She stared at him as she adjusted it back on her head. “You did?”
“The people who first bought the estate moved away two years ago when the taxes became so high, they couldn’t afford to live here.” He smoothed his waistcoat into place. “Not too long afterward, the colonel and his wife moved in.” He shook his head. “Now it makes me wonder if the Burwells pushed the people away on purpose.”
His tone of voice became guarded when he spoke of the taxes. Then again, in these hard times, everyone was upset about the high taxes.
“I think you are extremely talented.” She smiled. “This is a lovely manor.”
“Thank you.” His acknowledgment held no emotion.
The coach pulled to a stop, but before the footman came to open the door, Malcolm touched her arm. “Please remember your act. Continue to play the sweet, innocent woman you have been trying to fool me into believing you are.”
His words cut through her like a sharp knife—quick and painful. She wished she could make him think differently. “I assure you, I shall be on my best behavior.” She leaned toward him and placed her hand on his knee. His muscles tightened beneath her fingers. “If you like,” she continued, “I will show these people I have changed and the only man in my life is my husband.”
His expression remained solemn, and her heart sank further. Not even a twitch touched his lips. What had happened to the man who had been so loving and sweet with her the other day in the nursery while she played with the children? Once she had explained to him how she was able to obtain the invitation to the party, he’d clammed up and turned back into the monster she met that first day.
He nodded, still wearing a blank expression. “If you think you can convince these guests that you have changed, I’m all for that.”
She gritted her teeth and bunched her hands into fists. Sometimes—like now—she wanted to slap some sense into him.
Malcolm stepped out of the coach first before lifting her down. His grip wasn’t gentle, and when her feet touched the ground, he withdrew his hands and moved away as if touching her offended him.
She took a deep breath, trying to gain more courage. She would show him what kind of woman she really was. Hopefully, he would come to have tender feelings for her. Eventually the truth would come out about their marriage, and she didn’t want him loathing her when that happened.
Hooking her arm around his elbow, she let him escort her into the manor, where servants waited to take their hats and cloaks. Colonel Burwell and his wife stepped away from their other guests to greet them. Once again, Lady Burwell, dressed to perfection, wore clothing that appeared very expensive, befitting a queen.
“I’m so happy you could make it,” Lady Burwell greeted them. “I must apologize again for my husband’s memory.” She elbowed him gently. “He really thought he had given Mr. Kennedy an invitation for you.”
