Page 43 of Truly, Madly, Daring

Before he could finish the eviscerating comment and make himself exceedingly unpopular in the busy pub, Emmeline spoke.

“Lord Wrexham is blind, Madam, not insane nor infirm. Frankly, I wonder at your own eyesight if you cannot see he is in the prime of good health. In the future, I suggest you address your questions to him directly. As for myself, I should be content with the gammon. My lord?”

Wrexham’s hand lay upon the table, his fist clenched so tightly that his knuckles were white.

“Fine,” he growled. “I will endeavour not to drool over the table. Bring an unopened bottle of your best port at once. I might warn you there’s nothing wrong with my mouth, either. I can tell if you’ve watered it down, so don’t bother trying it.”

The lady flushed scarlet, bobbed a curtsey, and hurried out again.

“I am quite capable of speaking for myself,” Wrexham snapped, the moment the door closed.

Emmeline started. “I am aware of that,” she said evenly. “I am also aware that you have a foul mouth when you’re in as great a tweague as you are now. The woman was ignorant, but not malicious. She did not need a big brute of a nobleman ripping her to shreds. Humboldt has endured quite enough of your wretched temper as it is.”

“Er… if you’ll excuse me for a moment. I think I might check on Janet. The men in these places… Best be sure she’s… excuse me,” Humboldt said again and rushed out.

“There, now you’ve scared him off,” Emmeline said in exasperation. “Why he bears it, I cannot imagine.”

“I told you before. Because I pay him a sizeable wage to bear it,” Wrexham retorted, folding his arms. “I don’t pay for incompetence. If he can’t do his job, he should suffer the consequences.”

“I begin to think there is not enough money in the world to make your company worthwhile!” Emmeline cried, so furious with this obnoxious, supercilious man who was so far removed from the person she had believed Wrexham to be that she felt close to tears.

“Well, if that is the case, don’t let me stop you. Leave. Do as you please, see if I care. Go to the Devil!”

Emmeline gasped, beyond shocked that he should speak to her so. Unsteadily, she got to her feet, uncertain if he meant it, but knowing she could not bear to be in the same room with him a moment longer. The chair screeched against the flagstones as she stumbled, pushing it out of her way. Before she took a step, Wrexham stood.

“Wait. Emmeline. Don’t… Don’t go.”

She hesitated, daring to look back at him. His face was pale, colour cresting his high cheekbones.

“I didn’t mean it,” he said, sounding so wretched her heart went out to him, despite everything.

“Neither did I,” she said, and ran to him, throwing her arms about his waist and holding on tight.

He laughed unsteadily. “You didn’t say anything, pet,” he said, and Emmeline let out a breath of relief as his arms closed around her. This was what she had needed, had missed so badly since last night.

“I did,” she said, her voice muffled as she buried her face against his chest. “Last night. I was presumptuous and bossy, and I’m terribly sorry.”

There was a thoughtful silence. “I’m not. I need someone to push me, to challenge me when I’m behaving like a spoiled brat. I know well enough that I’m capable of doing so.”

“No, Wrexham, never that. But it broke my heart to hear you speak of your life as if it were an ordeal to be endured. We can do better than that, you and me. I promise you we can.”

He smiled and bent to kiss the top of his head. “I would like to believe that, Emmeline, but you don’t understand. You cannot understand what it is like to be treated like a silly child, as if I don’t have a brain in my head, like I am a piece of furniture to be moved from here to there with no say in the matter.”

She swallowed down the desire to lose her temper again, instead speaking calmly, in the hope he might listen. “My lord, it may have escaped your notice, but I am a woman, and this is the way of things for every female in England. We are possessions. Women do not even exist in law once we marry. We belong to our fathers or our husbands, with little or no control over our lives or even our bodies. I understand your frustration better than you may imagine. I am exceedingly lucky in my father, who is more enlightened than most men, but that does not mean that I am free to do as I please, when the world frowns upon me for setting a foot out of line.”

He frowned, reflecting upon this apparently new observation. “I confess I have never considered it that way, but I am a man, Emmeline, and I have been used to organising my world as I see fit. That may be a privilege, but it was mine, and it has been taken from me.”

Emmeline squeezed him tighter and raised her head, looking up at him. “Then let us take it back again.”

He sought her face, stroking her cheek. She turned into it, pressing a kiss to his palm.

“You would stay? Even after today, after everything I said? I’m a bad-tempered brute, pet. I can’t deny it, can’t pretend that I’m anything else. I want to promise I will never speak to you so again, but the truth is—”

“The truth is, you’ve had a very stressful few days, your new wife has provoked you dreadfully, and I suspect you’ve a nasty headache, going upon the size of that bump.”

“You’d not be wrong,” he said ruefully.

“Poor Rex,” she said softly, going up on her toes to press a kiss to his mouth.