Her laugh was low and wry, devoid of humor. “I know why you left.” When he snapped his gaze to hers, bewildered, her cheeks were flushed. “One night with me was enough to know I couldn’t please you.” She lifted her eyes to the beams criss-crossing the ceiling and blinked repeatedly. “You couldn’t bring yourself to lay with—”
He dropped the pitchfork to the ground and approached her. “Is that really what you think? That you didn’tpleaseme?”
She stood and matched his temerity. “You had me once and fled. You were so angry with me—”
A piece snapped into place in his mind, and his heart plummeted. “Oh Lord, Lily, no.” He reached for her hand, but she pulled it away. She did not, however, retreat.
Christ, but she was incredible.
“My leaving had nothing to do with you, and certainly not our wedding night.” He sucked in a steadying breath, filling every corner of his lungs before starting the most important explanationof his life. “After the accident, I thought I’d lose my leg. Do you remember?”
She nodded brusquely, but said nothing. She owed him nothing, and yet she listened. He thanked the stars for that.
“The pain was horrible, and if you hadn’t been there, nursing me through, I would have wished for death.”
Something in her expression broke at that, but she schooled her features quickly. “No, that’s not true. You were fighting to get better.”
He motioned towards the stool again, and she sat. Not caring that his trousers would be ruined or that his leg would ache in the morning, he kneeled at her feet as a penitent man. He owed it to her to prostrate himself.
“The doctor gave me laudanum to help with the pain so I could sleep.”
“I remember.” Her hazel irises searched his face. “You asked for it often.”
He nodded, shame creeping over him and tugging at his spine. But he wouldn’t let it overtake him. “Too often. Before long, I needed more and more of it to feel relief. My skin would crawl and burn until I took more of the drug. It was all I thought of, all I craved. I knew I was out of my depth with it, but I was an earl. If I asked for more of the tincture, it would appear at my bedside like magic.”
Her nostrils flared. “Why didn’t I know about this?”
“I made sure you didn’t know.” His shame swelled. “When the doctor refused to give me more and warned me of the dangers ofabuse, I raged at him, at everyone in sight. Thank God you’d gone into town, or you would have been terrified.” He clenched his fists and released them. “My mother suggested you return to Boar’s Hill until the wedding so you wouldn’t be…”
“Scared of you.”
“And I couldn’t bear the thought of you leaving me.” He swallowed hard. “But I also couldn’t stop wanting the laudanum, and my mother refused the doctors who wanted to give it to me. So I went to London, but instead of searching for some way to break the hold the drug held on me, a footman pointed me towards an opium den.”
She recoiled, hissing through her teeth. “Philip,no.”
He shuddered at the memory of the slum in Limehouse, the sweat-soaked hovel that reeked of human waste and low tide. But the blessed relief of the opium allowed him to ignore his circumstances, to forget about the people waiting for him outside those doors.
People like Lily.
“By the time I needed to return to Lancashire, I could barely get myself off the floor. My hands were shaking so hard, I couldn’t dress myself on our wedding day.”
Her eyes searched his face, as though attempting to detect a lie. Finding none, she shook her head. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Shame?” He lowered himself onto his rear end on the straw, bringing his knees up and wrapping his arms around them. “I was to be your husband, the man who should protect you and provide for you, and I was a bloody mess.”
“Did you think I’d stop loving you?”
“Yes.” His chest ached when she flinched. “I thought you’d tell me to stop.”
“Of course, I’d tell you to stop!” Goose pimples erupted on her bare arms, and he stood to take his greatcoat off the stall divider and wrapped it around her.
Sitting once more at her feet, he took one of her hands in his. To his surprise, she didn’t pull it away, but she didn’t look at him, either.
“Every time I tried to give it up, my body would rebel so painfully I couldn’t manage another minute without the opium.” He turned her hand gently and slid his thumb over her wedding band, watching the gold glide over her finger.
She watched the movement, too. “Why did you marry me if you were suffering so? Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”
He hummed low in his chest and fought the urge to bring her fingertips to his lips, as though that would take the sting out of his words. “I thought being your husband would give me enough reason to fight the addiction. I wanted to have you as my countess more than anything, more than the drug.”
