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looked sinfully dishevelled, ruffled sleek dark hair, muddy boots, dusty jacket. He seemed like he’d rode hell bent!
“Is the pauper your lover?” His silky rich voice a well of suspiciousness.
“I beg your pardon?” Quizzical eyes, pleated eyebrows, she could hardly think of whence that had come from.
Oh, she looked all cosy and sleepy in his bed! Like she’d always belonged there. But then she had, hadn’t she, being the Duchess of Crompton twice. Rage and desire dwelled in him. He’d rode like a dement, images of her and the pauper harassing his imagination. The further he rode, the angrier he became. He arrived, practically threw his horse bridle to the groom and rushed up, seeing light in his chamber. He’d left London after another deadly boring Parliament session, of which he remembered absolutely nothing.
“Yes!” Her loose rich brown hair and nightgown made his anger falter in favour of his desire. He resisted. “I saw you talking with him in London!”
“Talking?” She sat straighter. “Since when this is proof that he’s my lover?” She inquired hotly.
Hotly as his body got at the sight of her. “You went to London in secret; didn’t stay in Crompton house, rushing back to the manor, I presume.”
She stood up from the bed, barefoot, beautiful. She approached him, fury on her vivid green eyes. “My father got sick. There was nobody to take care of him. The doctor wrote me!” She breathed hard. “I wrote you before I left. Didn’t you receive it?”
After seeing her with Cunningham, he became so blind with jealousy he didn’t check the mail at Crompton house. “No.” He said drily.
“My father’s house was such a mess, that I had to stay there to manage everything!” She stopped three feet from him. “I spent the nights caring for him. Nell helped. Ask her!” Her hands flew to her waist, the very goddess of war! “When he emerged from the fever, I left as fast as I could to come to the manor and wait for you.” She pointed her finger in his direction in a blunt, resolute way.
An immense relief washed over Philip. His Selene had been having a hard time, but not betraying him. Guilt followed. He almost chocked in it. And he solely thought the worse of her and accused her without hearing the facts. He was a damned hot-headed, possessive, lust-driven devil!
“What reward do I get for it?” She continued, her chin lifting higher. “Your suspicion and mindless accusation!”
Her petite figure stood like a righteous queen before him. He ought to apologise, naturally. But the sight of her was so overpowering, he wanted to gather her in his arms and never let her go. She gave him no time for that, though. She wrapped herself in her robe, opened the connection door, and left, locking it from the lady’s chamber side.
He raked his hand through his hair, desperate pacing to the connecting door. “Selene.” He called softly. No answer.
Bloody hell! What a stupid ass he was! He definitely put his foot in it this time. His indomitable goddess wouldn’t make it easy for him. Damn, damn. Damn it! He ordered some brandy and crumbled on the armchair in front of the fire in deep regret. That’s what happened when one didn’t think with the proper sensibleness! He was her husband and he must trust her above all. This is what marriage meant. Jealousy would be justified solely if the betrayal came with proof, you possessive wretch! He’d made a serious mistake here. He only wished he could mend it. Needless to say his night became a hell of guilty feelings.
Selene fell on her belly in bed, enraged tears falling on the coverlet. How could he think such a thing of her? Didn’t he know that, since she lay eyes on him, the simple idea of another man touching her was utterly repulsive? The self-conceited scoundrel! Oh, but things wouldn’t remain like this, no! Her blood boiled with rage and hurt. Action had to be taken. At once. Or he’d make a habit of that.
Early next morning, Selene rang for Nell. Together they made a bag for her. She picked her mare and left without Nell. The lady’s maid insisted in not letting her alone, but to no avail. She’d have to get away. Give herself some space. Allow him to reflect on what he did. It didn’t matter it was a decision made in the heat of the moment, of the row. In her guts, it felt right. She wouldn’t hesitate with second thoughts. Newlyweds needed to establish thriving precedents that would guide their relationship.
Selene’s mare was of a placid temperament, being this the reason she decided to ride in her condition. If this wasn’t the case, she’d not done it. She arrived safely in the woodcutter’s cottage, presently vacated, as the manor used wood cut by some of the tenants. Nevertheless, the cottage stood in good condition, even supplied with firewood. It consisted of a bedroom, with a coarse bed, a sitting room that served as kitchen, too. The rustic furniture lent an air of fairy tale to the place. The woods around bloomed with the new greenery of spring and flowers popped everywhere around the tall centenary trees.
She’d carried food and drink from the manor’s kitchen; it’d last more than a week. Keeping those in the larder under the kitchen, she took her bag to the bedroom. She’d have to take care of her mare herself. Luckily, she’d got used to doing that before she became a married lady. When she had been done, she went for a walk in the woods around. The woods always evoked in her the fairy stories she used to hear as a little girl. The nature around made her feel calmer.
“Where is she?” He almost shouted at Nell, having invaded the lady’s chamber upon hearing the duchess had left.
Scared and wide eyed, the lady’s maid let the dress she had in hand fall on the carpet in a heap. “I-I don’t know, Your Grace.” Her tiny voice trembled.
“Of course you do! Do not lie!” He paced menacingly to her. She drew back.
“N-no, Your Grace.” She swallowed dryly. “She didn’t tell me because she knew I’d tell you.” She added meekly.
“What did she take?” Philip tried to slow his temper.
“Just a bag, Your Grace.” She twisted her hands. “She couldn’t carry much on her mare.”
“Mare?” He raked his hand through his dark hair. His deliciously belligerent wife left mounting? If something happened to her, he’d never forgive himself.
“I begged her not to, but she wouldn’t listen.”
Of course, she wouldn’t, the stubborn woman! Thanking the girl, he turned, leaving the room for the stable.
Philip rode for hours on end around the estate. She couldn’t have gone far on horseback. The vast estate didn’t favour swiftness though. He kept riding; he’d not give up, not until he found her. How pig-headed could he get? The worse being that he always put his foot in it when he felt jealous of her! Since they’d met. He had to cease this behaviour. It sprouted from the uncertainty about her feelings. The easiest way would be asking her! Stop fuming and start thinking, he admonished himself. A woman like her wouldn’t put up with his caveman behaviour…well…not out of bed, at least. He gave a lopsided smile at the memory of how both ignited each other. Seriously, he had to change this pattern or he’d spend half of his marriage exercising his predator’s skills. Once or twice was stimulating; it couldn’t become a habit, though.
That’s when he spotted her mare grazing near the woodcutter’s cottage. There she hid, then! He urged his stallion faster. She seemed to be well, after all. He dismounted, tied the horse and headed to the front door. And raised his hand, intending to knock.
