“I’ve nothing more to say to you on this topic.” He took a seat and made a show of hovering his quill above the papers in front of him, as if he were already engrossed in his work again.
“Good, then you may just listen to what I have to say. I’ve spent my whole life in the company of my friends and family, and if I am sent away from them, I shall be miserable. Which, I am guessing, is your entire objective. You may be a miserableman, devoid of happiness or hope, but I won’t allow you to makememiserable. You can send me away, but you will not break me.” She turned and flounced toward the door. “Good-bye,Your Grace.”
Of course, the door slammed behind her.
Lucian stared at the space where she’d just been standing, her words echoing in his head. Break her? Miserable? He wanted to make the point that they would not be together. He would spend time with her when he saw fit. He hadn’t planned to make hermiserable. Not to mention she’d accused him of being “devoid of happiness or hope.” Where the devil had she got that idea? Just because he hadn’t taken kindly to being manipulated into marriage, she’d made a judgement about his entire demeanor?
Growling, he pushed back in his chair and drummed his fingers against the top of the wooden arms. He contemplated the situation for several long moments.
Hewashappy.
Hehadhope.
Didn’t he?
Therewasanother way to handle this. Perhaps a way where they would both get what they wanted. He couldn’t stay with her here, not after how she’d responded in bed last night. Not after the things she’d just said to him. But he also didn’t want to make her miserable by sending her away.
Not to mention that she made a good point. Howwouldit look to send her away so soon after their wedding? No doubt it would be gossip fodder within days. He hadn’t thought about that.
Lucian shook his head. Hopefully, he had got her with child last night because it would bequitea long time before there would be any opportunity to do so again.
He’d been putting off his trip for far too long. It was time. He was going to India. His new duchess could stay in London.
O
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Fifteen Months Later, The Duchess of Grovemont’s Dressing Room
Gemma stared at her reflection in the looking glass. It had taken a full year, but it had happened. She’d finally turned into the beauty that Mama had promised she would. Of course, her husband hadn’t been here to see her transformation. That ass had never even told her he was leaving. He’d simply left a note.
At first, Gemma had felt relief. After all, she’d won the battle. He wouldn’t send her to Cumberland. She should have been nothing but pleased when she’d read the short missive he’d left on her nightstand the night after they had consummated their marriage.
Gemma,
I have reconsidered our arrangement and have decided to go to India to attend to some business that requires my attention. I expect you’ll haveeverything you need for your stay here in London. Mrs. Howard can assist with any questions or concerns.
Yours,
Lucian
It was strange, his valediction. He’d used the wordyours. That was amusing. He wasn’t hers. Not at all. Perhaps she legally belonged tohim. But he wasn’t hers. Was he mocking her by using that word? Or did it flow from his fingers as a lie so easily? Or perhaps he’d merely written it in the event someone else read the note. A servant or her relatives. Her husband didsolike to keep up appearances. She’d learned that about him in the short amount of time they’d spent together.
Regardless, she’d taken the blasted note and put it in the far recesses of her wardrobe. Hidden it inside a glove she rarely wore. And then she’d done her best to forget it. Forget him. Because Lucian Banks wasn’t worth the space in her memory.
After making love to her so tenderly, an act that had shattered her emotionally, then threatening to send her far away like an unwanted horse being put out to pasture, the man had left the country without so much as discussing it with her. Leaving nothing more than a three-sentence note that ended with a false “yours.”
It shouldn’t have surprised her given his previous behavior, but it had angered her. She couldn’t help it. He’d left her to rot.
But slowly, as the days turned to weeks, and the weeks turned to months, her anger had turned into indifference. Just like a good member of the Grovemont clan. Over the last fifteen months, Gemma had learned toperfectindifference.
In addition to his other sins, he’d never written. Not once in all these months. Not even one note to say he had made it toIndia safely. She only knew he had because from time-to-time Mrs. Howard mentioned lettersshereceived from him, ordering her how to go about some of her duties in taking care of the household.
Of course, Grovemont didn’t know that she and Mrs. Howard had become thick as thieves over the last fifteen months. She’d heard all about Mrs. Howard’s family in Somerset. And Mrs. Howard had heard all about Mama and Griffin and Meredith. Gemma had even told the older woman about Richard, Gemma’s eldest brother who’d died in a horse race before Griffin had come back from the war. Grovemont might be instructing the housekeeper by letter, but Gemma was now the lady of the house. She and Mrs. Howard and Mr. Warwick, the butler, consulted each other on all things. The three of them even had dinner together every Monday night. She quite enjoyed their company.
Which was how Gemma knew Grovemont hadn’t so much as asked after her health or well-being in the letters he sent the servants. She’d ask them from time to time and would be met with a blush and a subject change from dear Mrs. Howard, or a bit of stammering and an offer to refill her wine glass from Mr. Warwick. Apparently, asking after his wife’s health would be far too considerate of Grovemont. He’d merely written to the servants to ask them to complete their duties. Gemma could be dead for all he cared.
He hadn’t even inquired whether the one night they’d spent together had resulted in a child. Though Mrs. Howard would certainly have told him as much if that had been the case. And, at first, Gemma had wished ithadbeen the case.
