With that thought fixed firmly in place, she took a deep breath and knocked on the door. There was no answer, but that was expected. Another deep breath, and Ophelia opened the door.
The office was dark, but that wasn’t on account of the lack of light. The chandelier was well-lit, setting the office in a dull orange glow, more than enough to light the room fully. No… Adrian was the cause of the darkness.
He sat behind his desk, his back to her, and from his body she literally felt the antipathy and the warning as if he screamed it at her. She hesitated, considered closing the door and running, but firmed herself. If she left now, that would be it… she had to do this.
“Adrian…” Her voice cracked as she stepped into the office. “Are you… Can we talk?”
“I told you that I was busy,” he said without turning. “As I told Mr. Watley to tell you that I did not wish to be disturbed.”
“He told me as much,” she said. “Only, I ignored him. I…” She laughed as if it might help. “You know how stubborn I can be.”
Adrian did not chuckle at the joke.
“What do you want, Ophelia? Whatever it is, please make it quick. I am quite busy and cannot waste time humoring you.”
Ophelia winced at the harshness of his words. They were as cold as ever, seemingly chosen specifically to frighten her away. She took another step into the office, her stare fixed on the back of his head, willing him to turn so that he might see her.
“I want to talk to you, Adrian,” she said. “About what happened last evening.” She looked at him, but he said nothing. “I know that you think it is the end of the world, but I need you to understand that it is not that. You…” She swallowed. “You acted to protect me, and whatever people say, that is what matters.”
“Is that what you think?”
“I think you are so worried about courting another scandal that you cannot see the truth of what last night meant.” Again, she waited for him to speak. Again, she was greeted by silence. “It means that you are not what you think. You are so determined to be alone, to act as if you do not care about anybody or anything, but last night proved the opposite. You do care…” She took another step closer. “And not just about gossipmongering and rumor. You care about me… about Harriet. Just as we care about you.”
Adrian said nothing, still with his back to her. She followed his tilted head, taking note of the family portrait that had his attention.
“It is not a bad thing to care,” she pressed. “As for the scandal?” She scoffed. “Let them talk. Let them say whatever they want. I think you will find it matters not, so long as you have people in your life who are there for you.” Another step closer to the desk.“The last time I was caught in a scandal, I had no one. And I often wonder how my life might have been if I had… if I had someone like you there to support me. No doubt, it would have made things all the better.”
How did Ophelia really feel about Adrian?
She cared for him; there was no denying that. She wanted him to care about her also. And when she thought about him and their marriage, where it might go, she did not wish that it had been another lord whose doorstep she found herself on. Nor did she wish that Lady Delacourt had not sent her out into the night.
Their marriage was not perfect, but the last week had shown her what it might one day be. Slowly, she was growing closer to Adrian, just as she was starting to see him for the man who he could be; a man who she might one day fall for and be glad to call her husband.
Before things went that far, she needed Adrian to see her as the same. So, she stood across from his desk, she looked at the back of his head, and she silently pleaded for him to turn around, to look at her, and to see what she was willing to do for him. And not because she thought she had to, but because she wanted to. She wanted him to know that she cared…
“I have been thinking a lot today about our situation.” His voice was low and distant, a dull rumble like a storm on the horizon. “You, Harriet… this marriage.”
Ophelia’s breath caught in her throat, and she did not dare to try and speak.
“This last week, I have been distracted. It is no fault of your own, merely a reality of our circumstance.” His breathing was heavy. “We have been blinded to what really matters… the reason that we married in the first place. It is time that we correct that.”
The silence that followed was deafening, its weight so heavy that it made Ophelia stumble and when she spoke, it was as if a hand covered her mouth.
“Correct it…” She stammered the words. “Correct it how?”
Finally, Adrian turned around. It was what Ophelia had wanted but when she saw the look on his face, she wondered if that was a mistake. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t cruel. Rather, his expression was detached and distant, a look that suggested he hardly saw her at all.
“Tomorrow, I plan on riding out and paying a visit to Lord Delacourt personally,” he began, his voice just as emotionless as the look he held her in. “It is time that I learned the truth of his wife’s affairs and this child.”
“I will come,” she said quickly. “You will need me to –”
“You will remain here,” he cut her off. “The less that Lord Delacourt knows the better. I am aware of your concernsregarding Harriet. And I do not intend to hand her over to a man who might see harm come to her.”
Such a statement should have brought relief, but it did little to make Ophelia feel better. Perhaps there was something left of the man who she knew existing inside of Adrian and his shell, but it was hidden, and he looked determined to keep it that way.
“My aim is to learn of her affair,” he continued. “Hopefully, Lord Delacourt will be forthcoming. And once I learn the truth, Harriet will be delivered to her true father.” He waited for her response.
“That is…” Ophelia’s heart cracked down the middle at the thought of losing Harriet. And while she wanted to dissuade him, she knew that now was not the time. “That is… it is a good idea. Harriet ought to be with her true father.”
