“I only called you in here to give you a warning. Leave now. Go back to Northumbria or wherever you can go to hide from the gossip. If I were you, I’d talk your parents into going to the Continent after all.”
“I’ll do no such thing.” Meg picked up her skirts and turned toward the door.
“So be it,” the earl replied. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” His deranged laughter followed her from the room.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Hart had watched Meg leave for the ball nearly half an hour earlier. By God, she was magnificent, his wife, and she had been right. He was blind. He was stupid. He was both, and he had been all this time. Berkeley’s words from a few nights ago blazed through his mind: “It’s a surprising thing when you realize a happy marriage is within your reach. It’s enough to shock a mere mortal into action.”
By God, Hart was human, too. Hedidhave such a chance. A happy marriage was within his reach. By some mad twist of fate, he had managed to marry a woman who loved him, truly loved him, not for his title or future estate, but for himself. He wasn’t his father and Meg wasn’t his mother. Meg wouldn’t cuckold him. Meg was perfect, and he’d done nothing but push her away.
All of the times he’d seen her since she was sixteen paraded through his mind. It was true he hadn’t paid much attention, but she’d blushed, she’d laughed, she’dgiggled a bit too much. Sarah had often glanced back and forth between them, something he’d noted but had never given much thought to. Now his memory filled with moments when Meg stuttered in his presence or turned silent when he entered the room. She’d known his horse’s name. Had been at his bedside when he’d broken his leg last autumn. She’d always been there, on the sidelines, quietly watching him. And waiting, apparently, for him to wise up and notice her. He’d been a blind jackass all these years.
“If you don’t want a marriage full of love and laughter and happiness,” she had said, “don’t come for me.” By God, hewasgoing after her—right now! He took the stairs two at a time, flying down them to find her lady’s maid to ask which ball Meg was attending.
“Send for the carriage,” he called to the butler as he ran.
After speaking to her maid, he rushed back upstairs and summoned his valet. He needed to dress, immediately.
***
One half hour later, Hart strode through the Litchfields’ ball, pushing people aside, ignoring both acquaintances and friends, desperately searching for his wife. He’d looked everywhere. She was nowhere to be found. Finally, he spotted Sarah. “Where is she?” he asked in a tone that made Sarah know exactly who he was looking for.
Sarah stepped toward him and lowered her voice. “Hart, Father’s in a mood. He discovered you paid off Meg’s father’s debts and he wants to speak with you. He’s been—”
“I don’t give a bloody damn about Father right now. Where is she?” he repeated.
“You must listen, Hart. Father’s been telling the entire party and anyone who’ll listen that you’re going to get your marriage annulled. That your marriage hasn’t been consummated, that Meg isn’t truly your wife, that—”
“What? Where is she?” Hart searched desperately this time. If he found his father first, he’d rip the bastard limb from limb.
Sarah sighed and pointed toward the wall. Hart’s gaze followed her finger. There she was. A wallflower again. Just like the night he’d first danced with her. Because of what his father had been telling people? He’d kill the son of a bitch.
Meg’s fingers plucked at her reticule strings. She looked toward her feet. She was so beautiful and vulnerable and heartbreakingly perfect that he realized… he loved her. He loved her desperately. She was so fragile and lovely, exactly as she had been that night at the Hodges’ ball. Only this time she was his wife. His wife whom he couldn’t live without, didn’t want to at any rate. He strode up to her, his heart in his throat. What if she wouldn’t forgive him? What if she could no longer love him back?
She turned as he approached. “Hart!” Her voice was tentative and she looked frightened, like a hare who might bolt at any moment.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his father approach. “Hart,” his father intoned. “I need a word with you. Now.”
“Get out of here, Father,” Hart ground out, unwilling to leave Meg’s side.
“I must speak with you,privately,” his father intoned. “There’s something you need to know.”
“No,” Hart replied through clenched teeth. “Why did you allow Meg to sit in the corner? No one allows Meg to sit in the corner.”
His father narrowed his eyes on him. “You’re being emotional. She’s nothing but—”
“My wife!” Hart shouted. He raised his voice so the entire ballroom could hear. “She is my wife, Father, and I love her desperately. Furthermore, I don’t care what you or Mother or anyone else thinks. If you cannot accept Meg, get out of my sight.”
His father held up both hands conciliatorily. “I can see you’re not in any mood to be reasonable tonight.”
The people around them were watching with intense interest and a hush had come over the ballroom as more and more of the partygoers turned to stare.
Hart’s voice remained raised. “I’ll never be in a mood to discuss this with you. Sarah told me you’ve been telling people our marriage hasn’t been consummated. Is that true?”
His father replied with a jerky nod. His face was turning red.
Hart pulled Meg up to stand next to him. He lifted his booted foot and climbed onto the chair she’d been sitting in. “Listen to me!” he shouted. “My father has been making up lies, ugly, dirty lies about me and my wife.” He glanced down at Meg and gave her a tender smile. “Meg Highgate is the best wife a man could ever hope to have and I’m lucky to call her mine. Furthermore, I’m happy to announce that we have, in fact, consummated our marriage more than once and hopefully will do so again, tonight, if she forgives me for making this scene.”
