“A life well lived…” Adrian repeated the words as if he did not understand them.
They were true, he realized as his mind turned. But that did not help. If anything, it made him feel worse. Once again, he reckoned with his wife and what she had been forced into doing. And once again, admitted that she deserved so much more than what he gave her.
I need to do better. I need to… to not be me.
“I am so sorry,” she then apologized.
“What for?”
“The scandal,” she said. “I know that you have spent your life trying to avoid being attached to such things. First Harriet, and now me…” She looked away with shame. “If you wish for an annulment, I will understand.”
Adrian started in surprise. After all that had happened, that she still managed to make this about anyone other than herself. She was a good person, possibly the best he had ever known, and he would do right by her.
“I do not want an annulment,” he said with a sigh as he unclenched his fists and took a breath. “What I want is for you to know that you have nothing to be ashamed of. You were wronged, and there is no reason to feel guilt for it.”
Her smile was warm and welcoming, and Adrian felt it in his chest. “Thank you, Adrian. You are…” She looked at him, studying him as if she only just then saw him. “You are not what I expected.”
He scoffed. “Not as bad as you expected, you mean.”
“No, not that.” She turned serious. “You are far better, and I ought to remember that.”
A silence fell between them. Not awkward. Not tense. Rather, it was comforting, the sort of silence that negated the need for words, because all that needed to be said had been. What it was,Adrian realized, was an acknowledgment of the moment had, what it meant, and where it might lead.
“Shall we put her to bed?” Ophelia asked Harriet. “Now that she is calm.”
“Yes,” Adrian said without pause. He did not say it because he thought he should, but because he wanted to help in any way that he could. That was important, and not something he felt the need to justify. Not anymore. “Let us do that.”
CHAPTER 11
“Ihope you realize how much you owe me,” Rupert said dryly as he settled into the chair across from Adrian. Then he leaned back and kicked his feet up on the desk. Adrian cocked a warning eyebrow at the feet, and Rupert sighed as he dropped them to the floor. “Did I not say just now that you owe me?”
“You could save my life, and I would still insist on you leaving your muddy boots off my desk.”
“Muddy? They are perfectly clean; I will have you know.”
“The point remains the same.”
Rupert grinned as Adrian looked at him flatly. No doubt, he had known that Adrian would make such a demand, and he had merely done as he did so that he could coax some sort of reaction from his friend.
He'd better have good news, or an unkind word spoken will be the least of his worries.
“Very well,” Rupert exhaled and slumped in his chair. “Let us get to it.”
“I did not agree to meet you for your conversational prowess.”
Rupert chuckled. “Nor did I ask to see you for the same. In all the years we have been friends, I do not think I can name a single instance to which I might refer to our conversations as being inundated by prowess. At least not on your part.”
Adrian rubbed his eyes with frustration. While he enjoyed Rupert’s company, speaking to the man was like trying to solve a riddle with no answer. It did not require finesse or strategic thinking. Rather, brute force and battery were the only means to get through.
“You found something?” Adrian asked him, leveling a warning stare across the table.
“Would I be here otherwise?”
“Are you going to tell me what?” Adrian said. “Or do I need to beat it out of you?”
Rupert perked up. “Do you think you could?”
“Rupert,” he groaned. “This is not a joke. If you have nothing, tell me and be done with it. But if you have found something, I would appreciate that you get to the point.”
