“No,” she said firmly, pushing her chair back with enough force to make it scrape loudly against the floor. She stood, her hands clenched at her sides. “How could you do this to me? Tous?”
He let out a dry laugh. “There is no us. There never was. I married you under the assumption that I was going to die. It was a formality. A kindness. I never intended to stay married.”
The words landed like a blow. She staggered back a step, as if his admission had physically struck her. Her face crumpled with disbelief and hurt.
“You made me believe…” Her voice cracked. “You made me believe we could be something more.”
“That we could have a happy marriage?” he asked. “That was never the plan. I thought it better to be honest now than let you believe in a future that doesn’t exist.”
“Better for whom,Dominic?” she demanded, her voice rising, eyes shining with unshed tears. “For me? Or for you?”
Dominic stood slowly. “If you would just let me explain, you would understand.”
“I can’t even look at you right now,” she said, her voice rising. She turned away, her breath uneven as she moved to the door.
He took a step forward. “Dorothea?—”
She paused in the doorway, her head high. “You were right about one thing,” she said without turning. “You are not the man I thought you were.”
“I told you that man died on the battlefield. You just refused to believe it,” Dominic asserted.
She walked out without another word, leaving him alone.
Dominic returned to his seat, but he was in no mood to eat. This was what he had wanted. What he had planned for.An annulment—clean, final, logical. He had convinced himself it was the best course of action. Safer. Simpler.
So why did he feel like he had just made the worst mistake of his life?
13
Dorothea stood motionless at the window of her bedchamber, her forehead nearly resting against the cool glass. Tears streaked down her cheeks and she made no effort to wipe them away. There was no one here to see her—no reason to pretend.
She was grieving.
Not for a man who had died, but for one who had never truly existed.
Dominic had never intended to stay with her. All this time, as she slowly began to believe that perhaps he could come to care for her, he had been planning to set her aside. The betrayal stung more than she could bear.
She had been foolish. Naïve. She had fallen in love with a shadow—a man who had shown her glimpses of tenderness, only to retreat behind walls she could not scale. How was she to go on, knowing he didn’t want her? That he never had?
A soft knock at the door broke through her thoughts.
She stiffened, her breath catching. For a moment, panic flared—what if it washim? She didn’t think she could bear to see him. Not yet. Not like this.
“Enter,” she called out, schooling her voice into something resembling calm.
The door opened with a quiet creak, and to her great relief, it was Tabitha who stepped into the room. Her eyes filled with a compassion that Dorothea hadn’t known how much she needed until now.
“My lady,” Tabitha said, “Lady Sarah and Mrs. Haverleigh are in the drawing room. They’re rather insistent about seeing you.”
Dorothea turned her head away, brushing a stray tear from her cheek at last. “I do not feel like entertaining guests,” she admitted.
“I understand. But they refuse to leave until you speak with them.”
A long sigh escaped Dorothea’s lips as she turned from the window. Her voice was weary but resigned. “Then I suppose I should face them.”
Tabitha hesitated, then stepped farther into the room. “Forgive me, my lady, and please chide me if I overstep, but… I do not believe all hope is lost.”
“And why would you say that?”
