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“It’s something that you’re not going to like.” She paced away from him, her skirts swishing against the carpet. “Something that will explain why I can’t marry you. Ever.”

She turned to him, her hands clenched by her sides, her heart hammering inside her chest.

He raised a brow, expectant. The muscle in his jaw tightened, as if he were preparing himself for a blow.

Honoria didn’t know any other way to say it, so she just squeezed her eyes shut and blurted out, “I am already married.”

Silence fell between them, broken only by the soft crackling of the fire.

She opened her eyes to gauge his reaction. He stood still, his features unreadable, though a flicker of something—pain, perhaps—crossed his face before it was masked.

“You’re married,” he repeated, the words flat.

She nodded, then continued her restless pacing. “Yes, I married very young, my very first Season, the first man I met.” Her words tumbled out in a rush. “He was twice my age, but still very handsome. Charming even. And my parents… well, they weren’t very good parents. I wasn’t loved or cared for. I was just expected to follow orders all the time. Apologizing for every little thing I had done wrong.” She paused, taking a shaky breath. “I was young and naive and all I wanted to do was escape. So I used a marriage to this handsome earl as my chance to do just that.”

She paused and glanced at Jacob. He still stood there, unmoving, a small frown on his face. The lack of immediate judgment gave her courage. It was a good thing he didn’t show too much emotion. She felt free somehow to tell her story. So she continued, “Except the marriage didn’t liberate me. It was just another prison. A worse one. Not only were there blame and orders. But he also raised his hand to me… Many times.”

That’s when Jacob finally reacted. Pushing off the wall, he took a step toward her, hands curled into fists, his body tense, his face flushed with anger, eyes narrowing dangerously. “That bastard,” he gritted through his teeth.

The raw emotion in his voice made her stop pacing. She watched as he struggled to contain his rage, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Who is he?” he asked, his voice dangerously quiet.

“What?”

“Who is the cockchafer who dared to hurt you?” The words were menacing. Dark. She had never heard that tone from him before.

But despite the fearsome edge in his words, the insult caught her off guard. Her lips twitched. “A cockchafer?” she echoed.

His eyes remained dark, jaw clenched. “I apologize for insulting the cockchafers.”

That did it. She let out a small, startled laugh, the sound breaking through the tension in her chest.

“Who is he?” He didn’t relent.

Honoria let out a deep sigh. “Bradshaw. The Earl of Bradshaw.”

Jacob closed his eyes briefly, as if the image her words conjured was too much to bear. When he opened them again, they were burning with fury. “I am going to kill him,” he said, his voice strained.

“No, you won’t,” she countered softly.

“Why the hell not?”

“Because you’re a good man,” she said emphatically.

“Perhaps you don’t know me as well as you think,” he gritted through his teeth.

“I do. And I trust you not to hurt anyone. Not even him. At least not in cold blood.”

“I assure you, my blood is very hot.” He stood tense, his breathing ragged, emotions warring within him. “And although I would not hurt an innocent creature, he is not that.” There was a pause, then confusion crossed his face. “Isn’t he married to someone else now? I could have sworn he said he was married. And before that, he was courting my cousin, Lady Somerville’s granddaughter.”

Honoria swallowed. “Yes, I believe that’s correct. But legally… since I am alive, he is still married to me. And if I were ever to show face in society, I would be declared his true wife and he—”

“A bigamist,” he finished for her.

“And that would only hurt his current wife, as I am certain he would claim he thought I was dead. Even if proven wrong, being an earl, he would get away with no real punishment.”

After a moment, he exhaled and returned to his spot by the wall, resuming his earlier pose with arms crossed over his chest. “Pardon for interrupting. Please, continue your tale.”