Frederick set his glass down. “She told you this?”
“She did not need to. She speaks of family as though it is a church. She looks at Aaron as though loving him has only taught her she has more love to spend.” Rowan’s voice lowered. “She wants a child of her own. I can see it.”
“That is not unreasonable, Rowan. Not from where she’s standing.” Frederick rubbed a hand over his jaw. “You must speak with her.”
“No.”
“Rowan—”
“No.”
“This is not a matter one casts aside because it is inconvenient. She is your wife.”
Rowan gave a short, humorless laugh. “I am aware.”
“Then she has some right to know why.”
“She entered this marriage knowing it was born of duty, nothing more.”
“She did not enter a tomb.”
The words landed too close. Rowan went very still.
Frederick sighed, all amusement gone now. “If she wants children and you do not, that must be spoken plainly.”
“And then she will ask why.”
“Yes,” Frederick said gently. “She may.”
“She will not stop there. She will keep digging. She digs at everything. Aaron. The house. Me.” Rowan’s fingers curled against the wood. “She will ask about Catherine.”
At the name, the table seemed to harden beneath his hand.
Catherine.
Pale face. Cold river air. Aaron crying. Ice cracking like a gunshot beneath her feet. His own boots slipping over frozen ground as he ran. Catherine’s eyes wild, not seeing him, not seeing the danger, only clutching Aaron to her chest.
Rowan’s stomach turned, sharp and immediate.
Frederick’s voice lowered. “It is only natural that she is curious about the late duchess.”
Rowan pushed his tankard away and stood. “I am done.”
Frederick looked up at him, his face creased with concern now beneath the habitual ease. “You have barely finished your second drink.”
“I said I am done.”
For a moment, Frederick did not move. Then he exhaled and rose as well, tossing coins onto the table. “Very well. I shall not chase you through the village like a jilted mistress. I have better obligations.”
Rowan’s expression flattened. “The dancer?”
Frederick’s mouth curved at once, but not in quite the way it usually did. “She is waiting.”
“This is the first time you have spent more than one night with a specific woman.”
“Counting now, are we?” Frederick asked lightly.
“You are becoming predictable.”
