He slapped his forehead. “I forgot about getting you a better room. Cilia—”
“Since it is still merely you and me, not us, no children of our own, I think it better to separate now.” She said the bitter words, then stuffed cheese and marmalade and bread into her mouth.
At least she liked the treat. “You’ve thought on this?”
Munching, she nodded.
“No. Cilia, I’ve erred. My friends needed me, but I have need of you. Give me a chance to make amends.”
When her mouth cleared, she said, “Tramel agrees. He thinks nothing will change, that we’re too different.”
“You talked with my father about leaving me?” His face, he felt it drain of blood. How could she talk to that man about their marriage? “You betrayed my confidence?”
“You get to have an old newly discovered friend, and my father-in-law can’t be my confidant. He visits me more than my husband.”
Trying to maintain no expression was hard when he felt his head might explode.
“Felton, this silly posing ritual, and money, is all that binds us.”
“And the duke told you to do this?” He kept his voice low. “Don’t go to him . . . Cecilia. Don’t . . .”
Though he felt that everything inside might break, she was sobbing.
He rounded the table. “You never cry.”
“You never saw.”
His throat tightened at that notion, that she hid how she felt from him. He had to make her understand. “You wouldn’t cry if we were done? We’re not done.”
“We should be done, then you wouldn’t feel guilty for how you spent your time. Every one of your noble causes would be a celebration.”
“To be in your arms is a celebration.” One hand went to her waist and he brought her to his chest. “Hey, hey. I’m here. I won’t be going away again. I want you to pour into me. Confide in me. I’ll be enough for you.”
Putting her tear-soaked palm to his cheek, she shook her head. “How can that be when you don’t know what I want for me?”
“I know you, Cilia. You want this marriage to be different. I can be different for you.”
“You haven’t so far. Five or six months of you being around, that’s all I’ll ever get. I can’t pretend nothing matters anymore. I can’t compete with everything that draws you away. My lord, let us be done.”
He angled her face to his and flicked droplets from her long lashes. “Always formal when you’re miffed.”
“Then I shall forever call you by your title.”
“Repington needed me, Cilia. The questionable deaths of my comrades in arms when they return to the peace of these shores, it’s taking a toll.”
“Questionable?”
He looked down for a moment. “Suicides. I had to make sure he was fine.”
“Again, how can I be mad at a saint? I should set him free. Free the Lord Gantry.”
“I’m no saint, for I didn’t know you suffered like this. You’re so strong. I’ll speak to Jane about her advice. I ended her squabbles over the household budget. My frugal nature influenced her withholding the costs of your paints and canvases. You need your joyful portraiture.”
“Portraits?”
He scooped a bit of the sweet marmalade and dangled it at her lips. “Yes. I imagine you teach sweet things, faces and such, to Amelia and Agatha.”
She took the spoon and slurped up the sweet preserve then slammed the shiny metal onto his hand. It hit a knuckle and stung.
