He strode across the room, pulled back the covers on his side of the bed, and slipped in. The bed was cold, but there was warmth coming from her side of it. Her body. He swallowed again, his throat peculiarly dry.
“S-shall we blow out the candles?” Vanessa stammered, her voice a flutter of nerves. Winston nodded curtly. They both leaned over and blew out their candles, plunging the room into darkness.
For a long moment, neither of them said anything. Winston lay very still. He was afraid to move in case she took it as a sign he was going to try and exercise his husbandly rights. But there was also so much he wanted to say to her, so much he wanted to ask.
At last, she broke the silence. “Those things you told me on the cliff… Were they really true?”
Her voice sounded sweet and kind in the silence, and Winston shifted slightly.
“Yes,” he said after a moment. “They were all true.”
“I am so sorry,” she murmured. “I had no idea.”
“How could you have known? It is not common knowledge. Only a few people know the truth. Most people think my sister died during a miscarriage. That is the story that Lord Egerton gave out.”
“I see.”
There was another long pause as she absorbed this.
“Why did you do it?” he asked in silence. He was staring straight up at the canopy above them, which he could barely make out in the dark. Even if there had been light, he didn’t think he would have been able to look at her.
“Go to the cliffs?” she asked. “I did not mean to. I was lost.”
“No, I mean—why did you try to jump from them?” There was a painful, sharp sensation behind his eyes. It wasn’t worry exactly. It was closer to anger.
“What do you mean?” she sounded genuinely confused, and he turned his head to try and make her out in the dark. Sure enough, she was staring right at him.
“You were running toward the cliff when I arrived,” he said. “You were going to take your own life. Just like—just like Clementine did.”
There was a sharp intake of breath, and Vanessa shook her head vigorously. “No, Winston, I was not going to take my own life. I was just frightened by your arrival. I had been out there for some time, and the cold and fear were starting to make me paranoid. I was sure there were brigands after me or…”
“Or what?”
“Or Lord Langdon. I thought perhaps he had come for me, that you were him. I was not trying to jump; I was just trying to get away.”
He looked back up at the canopy, the sharp, painful sensation so strong now he felt it was about to burst from him.
“You should not have gone there,” he said, his voice harsher than he had meant it to be. “I told you it was forbidden.”
“I know. It was a mistake. I was lost.”
“I was…” His throat was choked, and he had to cough and try again. “I was worried.”
“I am sorry for that,” she said, her voice still gentle. “I did not mean to worry you.”
“And yet you went out all on your own.”
“Because you left me alone!” She sounded indignant now, and when he glanced back at her, he could see, as his eyes adjusted to the dark, that her eyes had narrowed. “You refused to spend any time with me. You did not even dine with me last night when I had specifically asked that of you. Do you have any idea how that made me feel? Even my own husband does not care about me!”
“Of course, I care about you,” he snapped. “You are my wife and thus, my responsibility.”
“I do not want to be cared about simply because I belong to you,” she said. “I want to be cared about for the person I am.”
He was quiet for a moment.How do I express to her that I do care about her as a person, not just because she is my wife?
At last, he cleared his throat. “I am the one who should be sorry,” he said. “I should not have left you alone this past week. I am… not used to sharing my home with someone or my life. Ever since my sister died, I have been entirely alone. She was the only person I truly spoke to about…” He didn’t want to saymy feelings, but it seemed that she had anticipated him.
“Your feelings?”
