That was one of those blanket statements—to allow me to inflict my own wounds.
I smoothed my poppy-pink gown. It was bright, no way to hide on the sofa or between its pillows. “Nice, Mama.” I made my tone easy and light. “He’s nice.”
“Is that it? You’ve spent quite a lot of time with him. You should know more of him.”
Know him?
Everything and nothing. He was my husband, the man I’d had my firsts with—the first kiss, the first time enjoying the comfort of a man who loved me.
Knit one. Purl one.
The man who’d held me tenderly, singing my name when the pain and pleasure of his love had overcome me. The man who’d caressed me when I’d had a nightmare about my uncle, when I’d cried for my parents’ fears.
Adam had seen me bare, and bold, and now as Wycliff, broken then reborn, remembering the diamond that was me.
Knit one. Knit one. Purl one.
My palms were damp. My needles were slipping. “I know a lot of his character, some of his business.”
“Ruth, what of his parents?”
“His father recently passed. He doesn’t say much about his mother. Wait, he did tell me. She was a poet from America.”
“Has he mentioned anything of his people?”
“He has an uncle who hates him. Why do you ask?”
“Ruth, he has a choice, as did I, to live one way or the other. But he’s not mentioned that other family. He’s told your father he wants to marry you. Will you be his wife in secret?”
“I don’t think so. We’ve been very public at the parks, the theater.” I poured two cups of tea and sipped mine dry. “He asked me last night. I’ve not accepted him.”
“Ruth, I know why you considered the barrister. Many men answered your advertisement. You chose the busiest one. One who looks at you with nothing in his eyes.”
“Marks was not disrespectful. He’s a nice man.”
“Yes, he is. He’ll make a good public husband. You serve his political needs. Your father’s money serves his monetary ones, but what of your needs? You deserve to be treasured, not just possessed.”
“It was a marriage of convenience.” I wanted to say everyone was entering into them, but that was juvenile.
“Wycliff wants a full marriage. He looks at you with everything in him.”
“He’s made no secret of wanting me.”
“This has the makings of being right.” Mama moved from her throne and sat beside me. “Ruth, are you ready to be married again?”
I was married and a widow and just confused. I couldn’t down another cup of the burning hot tea. “Why talk of this now? Not with Mr. Marks.”
“Marks, bless his soul, will let you be. You can wander about his house, run his staff, and sleep in your separate bedrooms. He may want to share upon occasion, but he’ll let you alone and keep on with his mistresses.”
I felt my eyes popping wide, maybe flying from my face. “You didn’t mention this when I told you of Mr. Marks’s intentions.”
“I was very angry when you ran off with Mr. Wilky. I was furious that you were at a brothel and stayed there instead of coming home. Then you had a baby in that tummy. I was enraged, that you’d put yourself into that position.”
I jumped up and moved away. “Must we talk about this? I forgave you. You forgave me.”
“Ruth, I accused you of being a harlot. That was wrong. I didn’t listen to you about what truly happened. I couldn’t accept what had happened.”
“Please. Don’t say any more.”
