CHAPTER 26
Frances
Frances arrived back at his London townhouse—no, she reminded herself, it wastheirtownhouse now—and her lips curled into a smile.
She was going to see him, and they would finally have a conversation, an honest and open conversation about their feelings for each other.
“James?” she called as she entered.
“I am in the study,” he called back.
There was an edge to his voice, and she wondered if perhaps she had interrupted his work. But surely he would be pleased to see her. Surely after last night…
However, when she entered the study, she found him standing at the window, looking out. His back was to her, rigid and straight.
“Is there something amiss?” she asked.
“Could you sit?” he said without turning around.
“Of course.”
The warm feeling in her chest quickly faded into something far less pleasant. Something cold and heavy.
Feeling like a recalcitrant child, she sat across from his desk. Her hands folded in her lap. Waiting.
He still didn’t turn around.
“I think it would be best if you returned to Aunt Eugenia’s,” he began.
“What?” The word came out strangled, as though she were struggling for air.
But they had just kissed. They had just broken down the walls between them, and now he was asking her to leave?
This couldn’t be happening. Not after everything. Not after last night.
“What do you mean? Stay with her while you return to the country to deal with Somerset Trust?”
“No,” he said, sounding as strangled as she felt. “I meant that you should stay with her. Permanently. I will give you everything I promised you. Property, a steady income. It will all be yours. And if you wish, we can remain married in name. Truthfully, it would be practical for me while I deal with Somerset Trust. But if you do not wish to do that, then I am happy to seek an annulment.”
Her throat closed up. She couldn’t breathe. This wasn’t real. This couldn’t be real.
“But…”
“I will deal with the bank,” he added, as though that was her chief concern. “They will just have to understand.”
“I think it is I who needs to understand.” Her voice was shaking now, and she hated it. Hated that he could hear how much this was affecting her. “What is this? Why are you suddenly sending me away? What did I do? I thought the two of us were finally in agreement.”
“I think you misunderstood my intentions.”
He was still staring out the damned window as though she wasn’t even there.
“When you kissed me?” she fired back. “I think your intentions were perfectly clear. You are afraid. That is what this is. You are afraid because something almost happened to me, and it reminded you of what happened to your brother.”
“And so what if it did?” He turned around, finally, and she saw his face. It was hard. Closed off. The James from when they had first met. “The outcome is all the same. I can give you what you want. I cannot be who you want me to be. I can give you what I promised you—financial security and independence—which is more than many ladies can dream of having.”
Her hands clenched in her lap. How dare he? How dare he reduce this to money? To practicality.
“Do you really think I want your money? I don’t want your money. Do you think you can treat me like this? As though I were a commodity? You can give me affection and attention when it suits you, but when it doesn’t, I am to be discarded like a worn glove? A useless toy?”
