“But I thought—”
His face turned to stone. “Look, Meg, last night didn’t change anything.”
The smile vanished from her face. Those five words sent ice water slicing through her veins. Those five incomprehensible words, uttered from her husband’s handsome yet treacherous lips.
Last night didn’t change anything? It didn’t make sense. They’d made love. They’d consummated their marriage. Was the man mad? What they’d done last night had changedeverything. For Meg at least.
She didn’t utter a word. She stood, blinking like a fool, trying to make sense of how her world had gone from perfection to confusion in the span of five words.
Hart strode to his wardrobe and choose a coat. “Things can be… pleasant between us but there’s no need to lose our heads.”
“Pleasant between us?” she echoed, confused. She knotted the dressing gown tighter around her middle, pulling the collar together to cover her throat.
“Yes, like last night.” He turned to look at her, shrugging on his coat.
She swallowed hard and forced herself to look away. “Pleasant is the word you use for what happened last night?Pleasant?”
He made his way across the room, stopping to scoop up the dressing gown she’d dropped last night from the floor next to the bed. He handed it to her. “You know how these things go, Meg. You’re not a child.”
Her head snapped to the side as if he’d slapped her. “What ‘things’?”
“Tonmarriages. We can be cordial to each other. Have fun every now and then and go about our days normally. No need to be in each other’s pockets, is there?” He looked as if he was trying to manage a smile for her. “What happened last night doesn’t change anything,” he repeated.
The words ripped like a knife through her heart. What was wrong with him? She didn’t understand.
Then it struck her. It hit her over the head with the force of a club. What they’d done last night hadn’t been special tohim. He’d done it before, probably with dozens of women.
It had been special to her. Too special. His wordsdevastated and angered her, but she couldn’t let him know it. She must feign nonchalance. He meant to keep his distance and she must, too.
“Of course not,” she murmured in a monotone voice.
Numbly, she turned away from him. She moved toward the adjoining door, entered her own room, and silently shut the door behind her. She leaned back against it, closing her eyes and forcing herself to take a long, deep breath. Tears rushed to her eyes but she refused to allow them to fall. She was through crying over her husband. If he wanted to keep her at arm’s length, she wouldn’t fight him.
She shook out her hair and lifted her chin. She would simply go about the business of being a good wife. Even if her husband was absent. She was used to being alone. She was accustomed to living in a household full of unspoken words and anger.
She rang for her maid and asked Emily to draw a bath. While she waited in the antechamber for the footmen to bring up the steaming-hot buckets of water to fill the tub, Meg fought more tears as well as the urge to stomp into Hart’s room and demand an explanation. Once the bath was ready, she dismissed the servants, shed her gown, and slid deep into the water, letting it cover her head. She bobbed to the surface and grabbed the bar of French soap Emily had left on the stool next to the tub.
Last night in Hart’s arms, in Hart’s bed, she’d known he felt something for her. Perhaps not love, perhaps not yet, but something deeper than lust. He’d been so caring, so gentle, so attuned to her. He’d so obviously wanted to make it good for her, and he had. Hehad. She refused to believe it meant nothing to him. That it didn’tchange anything as he’d said. Why did her husband have to be so confoundedly stubborn?
She finished her bath and rang for Emily again. The maid hurried to help her dry off and dress.
“Has His Lordship left?” Meg asked while Emily arranged Meg’s hair.
“Yes, my lady, I believe so.”
He’d said he had business to attend to but no doubt he’d gone to his club again. He wasn’t coming back tonight. She couldfeelit. He’d told her as much when he said their night together didn’t change anything. He intended to go right on behaving as if he weren’t even married. Just as Sarah had predicted.
Meg had had enough. He was out at his club doing as he liked. By God, she would do the same. Once Emily finished her ministrations and left the room, Meg sat down at the small white writing desk in the corner of her bedchamber and scribbled off a note to Sarah asking her to come and get her tonight on her way to the latest ball.
***
“Hart’s going to be there tonight,” Sarah said hours later as their coach rattled along toward the Hartleys’ soiree.
Meg was busily plucking at the strings of her reticule. Her head snapped up at Sarah’s words. “How do you know?”
Sarah bit her lip, a guilty look on her face. “He told me.”
Meg had shared enough of the details with her friend for Sarah to know they’d finally spent the night together and that Hart had told her it didn’t mean anything. Sarah had promptly declared her brother a fool and apologized to Meg. Meg had told Sarah she didn’t want todiscuss her maddening husband any more this evening. She’d hoped to forget all about him until Sarah informed her he’d be at the party.
