“Of you?” she asked, rather incredulous. “Not to imply that you aren’t fearsome,” she teased, hoping her familiarity matched his, made him feel as he had made her feel. His easy smile was her reward.
“Of himself.”
Harriet dearly wished he would elaborate, but it seemed incredibly démodé to ask someone to explain your husband to you.
“I’m sure he wishes to come. He’s rather busy,” she supplied weakly, knowing it was a poor excuse and one John would see through easily. But in the case he wanted to make use of it, she offered it.
“You don’t have to protect me from him. I know he loves me, in his own bullheaded, emotionally impoverished way.”
“He is rather unlearned in that department, isn’t he? In fact, it’s part of why I came.”
“Oh dear, are you here to do his bidding? Is there a painting he wants off my walls? A piece of Mother’s jewelry he’s under the impression I have? He has loads more money than I do, so it can’t be that.” He was jesting, but Harriet thought she heard a hint of pain in his words, as if some of the sadness in his eyes had seeped into them.
“He doesn’t know I’m here.”
“How chic of you! A wife off on her own—is there anything more enticing? You’ve come to the wrong place for trouble, I fear. It’s quite dull here.”
“Yes, I had … I’d noticed.” John laughed.
“It’s rather glaring, isn’t it? I’m locked away in this tower to wait out my days,” he said, waving a biscuit around with one hand. “Don’t make a face of horror at me. It suits me quite fine most of the time. I’ve got a fully stocked library and a divine chef. What more could a man want?”
“Company,” Harriet answered, a little too pointedly.
“Yes, well, my father gave up on me as soon as I got sick. Mighty inconvenient when your heir won’t outlive you, eh? Rather defeats the entire purpose of my existence.”
“And Alexander?” John’s mouth twitched and Harriet could tell he was weighing how honest to be with her, so she interrupted his considerations. “I should tell you, I guess, that Alexander and I—we didn’t have a … real … marriage. We don’t. That is … we were caught in a library.”
“Which one?”
“Lady Dunley’s, I’m afraid.”
“How dreadful, no wonder you took to kissing him. Terrible collection.”
“Actually, quite embarrassingly,nothinghappened,” Harriet confessed, reluctantly.
“What a black mark on his character! I shan’t forgive him.” Harriet laughed then, enjoying herself for the first time in ages.
“Lady Neddlesby caught us. Or thought she did.”
“And so he offered for you?” John said, a little skeptically.
“I rather forced his hand.”
“Good girl,” John affirmed, pouring them each another cup of tea.
“He made clear from the beginning that he couldn’t offer me his … sole affection. Or any affection really.”
“The blighter!”
“Oh, no, it was quite all right with me. I’m rather …”
“Too good for him?” Harriet laughed at their unspoken but shared understanding that while she probablywastoo good for Alexander, no one else would see it that way. At least no one outside of this room or her family.
“I suppose I came here … to understand him better. It sounds awful silly when said out loud. Especially after telling you our marriage is false. Truly, it’s more pathetic than that because, well, we had quite a confrontation. But I find myself …”
“Loving him despite his poor behavior? Happens to the best of us.”
“I’m afraid so,” she said, admitting for the first time to herself or anyone that she might just love Alexander.
