“I am glad you approve,” she said and returned to her plate.
He paused. This was dreadful. The air between them pressed down on him, heavy and close, full of everything neither of them said. This was not what he had wanted. He had wanted distance, yes—had told himself distance was necessary, was sensible, was the only course that would not end in ruin. But he had not imagined this. He had not imagined that the distance would feel like this.
He thought of something his father had said to him once.Be careful what you wish for, Julian. You may find you have it.
He had it now. And he did not like it.
He had nobody to blame but himself.
No. This would not do.
“Clara,” he said, “when I said that I thought perhaps this marriage had become something we did not intend, I did not mean to cause harm. I have been under considerable strain since we first found ourselves in this situation. The journey to Southampton, returning empty-handed, the business with Marianne… It has been a great deal. I am not ashamed to…”
“It has been difficult for us both,” she said. “Although one might argue it has been most difficult for David. Young as he is, he must know his mother is absent.”
“Yes,” he admitted. “What I am trying to say is that perhaps I was…”
“Hasty?” She set her fork down. “No. You were not hasty in the least. In fact, you spoke plainly, and I am grateful for it.” She folded her hands on the table. “We had allowed ourselves to become rather more than companionable. That was not what this arrangement was. We agreed to this to keep David from an uncertain fate and to find Arabella. Not to become entangled with one another.”
He pressed his lips together. “Perhaps an entanglement was difficult to avoid.”
“That is something we ought to have considered at the outset.” She picked up her fork again. “In any case, I am grateful that you made your position clear. It has reminded me of what is truly important. And it is not… that is to say, David and Arabella must be our sole focus. Once she is recovered and well, we shall speak on what is to become of our marriage.” She paused. “I have given it some thought. For the sake of appearances, I believe we ought to remain married. But I should like to take rooms of my own in time. Many couples in our society live separately, and it seems the most sensible course.”
“Of course,” he said.
The words cost him more than he showed, but this was his doing. He had nobody to blame but himself.
“Very well.” She straightened slightly. “The preparations for the ball are progressing well. I have engaged an orchestra. Do you wish them to come and play so that you might approve them?”
“No,” he said. “Your judgment is sufficient for me.”
“Good,” she repliedl and drove her fork into her peas.
For the remainder of the meal, he sat across from her and watched her make a steady and determined effort never once to raise her eyes to his.
CHAPTER 28
It had been a week since Dover. A week of distances and cordial exchanges and meals where they spoke about David, Arabella, the ball, and nothing else at all.
Clara stood in her bedchamber and tried not to think about it while Nell worked at the buttons down her back.
“This is such a lovely gown, My Lady,” Nell said, smoothing the Pomona green demi-train with an appreciative hand. It was indeed a pretty dress. She had ordered it from the dressmaker when they first began planning the ball, back when she had still been excited about it. Before everything had shifted.
She had been so pleased when she placed the order. Now, she stood in the gown and felt like a fraud.
Julian had made his position perfectly clear. He had seemed to regret it these past days; that much was true. She had seen it in the way he watched her across the breakfast table, in the wayhe sometimes opened his mouth as though he intended to say something and then did not.
Whatever he meant to say in those moments did not matter anyhow.
None of what had happened mattered. Not the hours they had spent together, not the night at Dover, not waking up with her arm across him. He did not want it to mean anything. He had decided it would not.
She had read things into the situation that were not there, or if they were, they had been firmly put away.
Hadn’t she done the same with Benjamin? Except this was worse. She had been fond of Benjamin, genuinely fond, but looking back, she knew she had not truly loved him. She had loved what he represented, the idea of what they might be together.
“My Lady,” Nell said, and she looked up.
“Yes.”
