He coughed. “I stated that I married you for an heir. Gave the impression I was forced because of that kiss at the Beckfords’. But you were right, I could have bundled you off somewhere, and if I wanted an heir so desperately, I would have married some horse-faced debutante with excellent bloodlines.”
Silence met his confession. Was she really not going to help at all?
Obviously not.
“However, I was extremely worried about my vocation affecting your safety, so decided we should live…separate lives.”
He waited.
Silence. She pursed her lips and…
But no, they rested again. Mute.
Damnation, this was more painful than being tattooed.
Clearing his throat, he continued, “I have realised since our wedding that this is not feasible. Our attraction is too great, and we are both…discontented, are we not?”
Surely, she would have to answer a question?
She merely nodded.
Bugger.
“So, I hope to…begin our marriage again. Start anew. Spend evenings together. Read. Dine. The theatre and so forth.” He fiddled with his signet ring and then hastily thought better of it – fidgeting and fiddling were a sign of worry, and he wasn’t…at all. In any way.
A horrible thought occurred.
What if she didn’t wish to start anew? He didn’t mean to sound arrogant but he naturally assumed she would be amenable. But her silence was speaking a thousand words and none of them were “that sounds lovely, Alexander, get into bed”.
“Erm, to facilitate your safety, however, I have come up with a list of–”
“What do you feel for me, Alex?” she interrupted at last.
“Feel?” He frowned. What did that have to do with anything? “Er…”
“Is thisattractionyou speak ofpurely lust which will diminish with time?”
God, no. He adored her smiles and kindness, her vibrant eyes, and he liked simply watching her restless energy. He also adored it when she got annoyed and waved her arms around like a mad windmill. But telling Aideen that was a bit like stuffing your hand in an escaped bear’s mouth and expecting a lick.
“Not at all. I very much enjoy your company.” There, that sounded good. He also relished and craved it, but steady on.
“Hmm,” she replied.
He tried again. “I have a list, Aideen, which I hope–”
“Why did you pretend to be a Welsh seducer? And please be aware only one answer is correct.” She flipped the plait over her shoulder and crossed her arms.
Blast. Whyhadhe done that?
“I was jealous?”
She unfolded her arms and smiled. Phew.
“Absurd but correct.”
Good. Now… “Aideen, I have a list–”
“What happened to Gwen?”
