“No.”
“William…”
“Notyet. She needs time to calm down.”
Timothy made an exasperated noise. “You’ve said that a great deal lately, WilliamNot yet. Be careful thatnot yetdoes not become never.”
William said nothing in response to this. Really, there was nothingtosay.
***
Most of the guests had left for the hunt. William had made an excuse and taken himself to the privacy of his study. Today, he wasn’t even pretending to do work. He stared into space, fingers drumming out a rhythm on the desk.
Timothy is right. I must speak to her.
I doubt she wants to speak to me at the moment. I’d be turned away.
What if she tells her family?
What have I done?
What if she won’t forgive me?
What if I can’t forgive myself?
With a groan, he dropped his head into his hands, fingers dishevelling his hair.
I don’t know what to do.
A brusque tap on the door made him jerk upright. He blinked, mentally reviewing who might still be in the house. He was fairly certain that Lavinia was still here, but his siblings and their respective spouses had all gone out. Perhaps Timothy had told Katherine about what had happened, and she was here to lecture him.
Richly deserved, I think. Only one way to find out.
“Enter,” he said, hating how tremulous his voice sounded.
The door opened. Miss Bainbridge entered. Alone.
William flinched, eyes widening, and made to get up from the desk.
“Don’t fret, my maid is right outside the door,” Miss Bainbridge said wearily, pushing open the door a little further to show the maid in question. “I am not here to entrap you. May I sit?”
He cleared his throat, gesturing to a chair. She sat, carefully adjusting her skirts. After an awkward moment, he sank down too, clearing his throat.
“I thought you had gone out,” he said at last, when the silence began to stretch on.
She shrugged. “I meant to go out, but I have no taste for hunting. I thought I would stay, and once I discovered that you were here, I thought we could talk, you and I.”
He swallowed hard, glancing over at her.
Miss Bainbridge did not look well. She was paler than usual, with dark circles under her eyes. Her hair was as neatly arranged as ever, and her dress impeccable, but there was something missing about it all. A spark, perhaps.
“I believe that I owe you an apology,” William heard himself say. “Directly or indirectly, I have made you believe that I was agreeable to… to the union you suggested. Which I accepted. I should not have accepted.”
“To our marriage, you mean,” she said bluntly, and then gave a tired smile at the shock on his face. “Come, your Grace, let’s be honest, shall we? I do like to be forthright in these matters.”
He cleared his throat. “Yes, I suppose you are right. I… I did not know my own mind, and I should have been clear with you on that point. Darting between decisions was an ungentlemanly thing for me to do. I am sorry. But it matters not. I entered into an agreement with you, and I must stick to it, I know that now. Going forward, I will be a better man, and strive to… to make you happy.”
She eyed him for a long moment, fingers drumming on the arm of her chair.
