“And why are you so sure of that?”
“I-I’m too old. Past thirty. You need a younger wife.” He just looked at her, calling out her flimsy excuse without saying a word. She gulped. “You know I was married before. Yet I don’t have children.”
“Yes, and the fault for that could have lain with your husband as much as with you. You never conceived?”
She looked down, pain washing over her at the memory. “Just once. I think. Maybe. It was too early to tell for sure, but even if I was, I... miscarried.”
“I’m sorry.” He squeezed her hand and asked with compassion. “Did a doctor or midwife attend to you?”
“Not immediately. My maid called a midwife a couple of days later and even she wasn’t sure.”
She closed her eyes. How could she explain the pain, the blood? The shame.
“But you must know. Or at least suspect. Tell me Abigail. Do you believe you were pregnant?”
“I do. But I could be deceiving myself, of course.”
“I don’t think so. Women usually know these things. And you never conceived again?”
“No.”
“Forgive me for asking, but did your husband visit your bed often?”
She gasped, her eyes widening at the intimate question. “My lord! I won’t discuss that.”
“No?” A small smile played around his lips. “I don’t know why people are so embarrassed about sex. It is, after all, a fact of life. None of us would exist if not for sex.”
Her cheeks were flaming now. She had run the whole gamut of emotions during this conversation. From shock, to sadness, to embarrassment. He spoke in such a blunt way, not afraid to broach any subject or ask hard questions. He dared her to be as bold as him. But she couldn’t. She was too much of a coward for that.
“It may be a fact of life, but it is also a private matter. I don’t feel comfortable discussing it. Besides, it’s irrelevant, since I don’t plan to accept your proposal.”
“I think there’s as much probability of having a child with you as with any other woman, so your supposed infertility doesn’t deter me. Please know that I’d never blame you if we were unable to have children. We get along well together. And I would be a tolerant husband. After providing an heir, you could live independently if you so chose. I would write up settlements to provide for you. The only sacrifice you would have to make is to consent to have relations with me for, say... a year. Or until you become pregnant. And I will... endeavor to give you pleasure.”
She shook her head. That word, pleasure, was like a splash of icy water thrown on her face. An involuntary shudder ran through her. She couldn’t tell if it was fear or excitement.
“I don’t want pleasure, my lord.”
His face hardened, and a muscle ticked in his jaw.
“I understand you may not look forward to those duties, but I won’t be a very demanding husband. We could discuss the frequency of our marital relations. And I will always consider your preferences. I do not intend to force you to do anything against your will, Abigail.”
His words had a bite to them now. She had hurt his feelings. For the first time, she considered how her refusal might look from his perspective. He had taken a risk. Had proposed to her on bended knee, had given her every concession and reassurance any woman could have wanted, and more. If she were not so damaged... But no. She was the way she was. And she knew she was not the best choice for him.
“Why me, my lord? You have not perused the marriage mart. When you do, you might realize there are women better suited to being your wife. What would you gain by choosing me now?”
“I’m not a lad fresh out of the schoolroom, Abigail. I’m thirty-four years of age. At least grant me the courtesy of believing that I know my mind. I have no interest in young debutantes who are the same age as my sister. I chose you because I admire your qualities. In this time we have spent together, we have become friends and you are someone I see myself getting along with for the rest of my life. I could not ask for more in a partner.”
His vehement response left her breathless. This man was magnificent. That he seemed to want her for his wife was nothing less than a miracle. And she was so tempted. Only the knowledge that she was so undeserving kept her from throwing herself into his arms.
She needed to think about it. With a clear head. Right now she was confused and didn’t know reality from irrational fears.
“I thank you, my lord. Please believe that I’m truly honored by your proposal. My hesitation in accepting it has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me. I-I need to think about it.”
He rose and extended his hand to help her stand. When she put her hand in his, he pulled her softly towards him. Close, but not touching. He inclined his head. His lips were so close. A wave of desire washed through her.
“You do that. In the meantime, consider this.” And he kissed her.
Just a brief press of his lips against hers. Soft and undemanding. It was not a kiss of passion. It was a kiss of pledge. And the emotions it unleashed left her tittering on her feet.
