Page 121 of Duke of Sapphire

Go to her. She has just given up a child. She has earned comfort if anyone has.

His feet did not move.

What if she does not want comfort from me? What if she would prefer it from someone whose marriage did not begin as an arrangement drawn on paper? She deserves more than a man still trying to decide whether to keep his own heart involved.

She tucked the handkerchief away and walked toward the house.

Henry followed after a moment. The hall door closed behind them.

Sappherton House felt empty.

* * *

“His Grace shan’t be joining you tonight,” Mr. Gedge said.

Charlotte looked up from her seat at the end of the dining table. “Again?”

“I believe he is detained with business,” Mr. Gedge replied. “He asked that you not wait.”

“Very well,” she said.

He bowed himself out. The door shut softly.

She stared at the bowl in front of her.

He is always detained now. Three nights. I am eating alone in a room meant for a household. I should not mind. I did it at Ashford often enough.

She picked up her spoon and tasted the soup. It sat flat on her tongue.

It tasted like nothing.

Apparently, I do mind. How inconvenient. I am being sentimental over soup.

She finished the course slowly, because some part of her still believed that at any moment Henry might walk in and say he had changed his mind about correspondence. He did not.

As she stood to leave, voices sounded in the hall. Mr. Gedge again. Henry’s lower tones, saying something about a dispatch rider and a shipment.

She froze.

Stay and see him. Or leave. You have been avoiding him since he began avoiding you. This is childish. You are an adult. You are his Duchess. You should be able to share a corridor without feeling your heart drop to your ankles.

The conversation ended. The footsteps moved toward the staircase.

Charlotte stepped quickly out of the dining room in the opposite direction.

Coward.

She made for the library. A book. Any book. Something large enough to distract her while she lay awake.

She opened the library door and stopped.

Henry sat by the fire.

He was not in his usual place at the desk. He was in one of the armchairs, legs long, a glass on the small table beside him. The fire cast light on his face.

Charlotte’s hand tightened on the doorknob.

Turn around. Leave. You have done fairly well at avoiding him. You can continue.