“It is about last night,” she interrupted, putting her hands flat on the table. “But it’s also about the night before that. And the night before that. And the night before that. It’s about all of the nights, Nicholas. And all of the days. All of thetimethat we’ve spent apart.”
“We weren’t apart last night,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching ever-so-slightly.
Lavinia kept her own lips pressed firmly together. “But we were. Afterward, when it was done and you were going to come upstairs, we were.”
Nicholas grimaced. “I had every intention of joining you, but the contract for–”
“I don’t need to know what contract it was for. It doesn’t matter. Because there’s always a contract.” She hesitated, instinctively loathe to take on self-responsibility, but if she wanted this to work, toreallywork, then she had to. Their very marriage depended upon it. “Just like there’s always a charity breakfast. Or a dinner. Or a merger. Or a meeting. We may be married, Nicholas, but we’re not together. We haven’t been for a while.”
His countenance shuttering, he dropped the paper and reached for his coffee. “What do you propose, Lavinia?”
“A test.” She glanced at the set of maids hovering by the side table and signaled their exit with a curt nod. Waiting until the door had closed quietly behind them, she gave her full attention to her husband and drew a deep breath. While she may have appeared composed on the outside, on the inside her heart was beating so rapidly she half-feared it was going to shoot up and lodge itself in her throat. “There’s seven days between now and Christmas. I’ve counted them. I’d like to spend those days together.”
“We are together,” he said blankly. “You’re sitting right next to me.”
“No, we’re not. Because you’re already thinking about that contract you spent last night reviewing and my mind is on the menu I have to put together for the Grosvenor Square Society for the Betterment of Orphaned Youth and Widowed Women’s luncheon on New Year’s Day.”
Nicholas blinked. “Good Lord. Weren’t you going to shorten the name?”
“I lost the vote.” She waved her hand in the air. “But that’s neither here nor there. ThepointI am trying to make is that even though we’re here, our minds and hearts are elsewhere. And that’s no way to conduct a marriage, Nicholas. That’s no way to make a life.” She looked out the window. The sky was gray and had a brittle quality to it, hinting at snow on the horizon. Thus far winter in London had been mild and damp, with more wet than white. They were due for a storm. “For seven days, a full week, I want us to put away our distractions. No contracts. No charities. Nothing but us. The way we were at the beginning.”
His brow furrowed. “I have an important merger this morn–”
“Cancel it.” She stood up from the table. “Or have your solicitor do it for you. Because I’m leaving, Nicholas. In an hour. For Woodridge.” A three hour journey north by carriage, Woodridge was a cozy eight bedroom cottage tucked away at the end of a long, forested lane. Historically used as a hunting lodge, it had been gifted to them by Nicholas’s parents as a wedding present and had sat largely vacant over the course of their marriage. “I’ve already sent word to have it opened and prepared for our arrival. I’ll be spending Christmas there, and I’d like you to come with me.”
“Go with you toWoodridge?” By the incredulity in his expression, she might as well have asked him to accompany her to the moon. “I cannot go to Woodridge. Not today. I understand that you’d like to spend more time together, and I agree that it would be good for us. But this week won’t work, Lavinia. After the holiday, when my railway deal has been completed, we can travel to Woodridge.” He smiled coaxingly. “We can travel wherever you’d like. Just not today.”
She returned his smile. Hers was sharp enough to slice through glass. “I’m leaving for Woodridge, Nicholas. Not tomorrow. Not next week. Not after the holiday. Because there have already been too manyafter’s. I cannot make you go with me. I cannotmakeyou do anything. But I’d like you to come. I’d like us to take the next seven days and try to mend what’s been frayed. Because if you don’t, ifwedon’t, there won’t be an us to come back to.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “What exactly are you saying, Lavinia?”
Plainly, then.
In terms he could comprehend.
“If you do not come with me to Woodridge, our marriage is over.”
“Are you giving me a bloodyultimatum?” he snapped, yanking off his spectacles and throwing them halfway across the table in a rare display of genuine emotion. And even though it was done in anger, part of her was glad to see it, because it meant that he at least feltsomething. Even if that something was fury directed straight at her.
“No, Nicholas. Not an ultimatum.” She lifted her chin a notch. “A promise.”
“Don’t make a mistake you’re going to regret,” he said through clenched teeth.
“The only thing I regret is not doing this sooner.” When an unexpected rush of prickly hot tears threatened to disrupt her composure, she darted back from the table toward the door. “I have to go pack. I hope you do the same. As I said, I’m leaving within the hour. I hope you come with me, Nicholas. Truly.”
He didn’t say anything. He didn’tdoanything but stare at her, those dark, unreadable brown eyes burning a hole into her back as she squared her shoulders and strode from the room.
An hour later,Lavinia stood frozen in the middle of the foyer, paralyzed by the decision that awaited her. Three steps forward would take her through the front door and into the carriage that waited in a lightly falling snow. Three steps back would take her…well, it would take her back. Back to the life she knew. Back to the marriage she’d settled for. A marriage that wasn’t terribly bad, all things considered.
Nicholas did not beat her. He did not yell at her. He did not parade mistresses in front of her face. She had financial security, a generous allowance, a full staff, a title, and the respect of her peers. What else could a woman in her position want? What elseshouldshe want?
Society told her nothing.
Society told her that she ought to be pleased with what she had.
Society told her that she had more than most.
And while that was all true, it wasalsotrue that settling for less than what her heart wanted was committing a disservice to herself. Money, houses, fancy clothes–those were well and good. But without love, passion, or devotion they were as meaningless as the ruby bracelet Nicholas had given her after he spent her birthday at a business meeting.
