Page 79 of Earl, Enemy, Husband?

Nothing unusual about that. Perhaps George had been wrong that she had seen Eloise kiss him. And, even if she had, it wasn’t as if he had been doing anything he should be ashamed of.

He entered her chamber. He froze. Two trunks took up the centre of the room and a maid was filling one of them with clothes. His wife emerged from the dressing room. ‘No need to pack any ball gowns, Cole.’ She caught sight of him and halted. ‘My lord.’

The maid looked up and gasped. The expression on her face was one of panic.

‘You may leave us, Cole,’ Florence said. ‘I will ring for you.’

They waited, silently glaring at each other until the maid departed.

‘What are you doing?’ Graydon asked.

‘I am packing.’

‘Yes, I can see that. Where are you going?’

‘Home.’

‘This is your home.’

The doubt in her eyes made him want to hit something. Had he not done his best to make this seem like home? Had she not had the best of everything? She had spent a fortune on clothes and geegaws and he hadn’t said a word.

‘I need to go home.’ She sounded calm enough, but there was a little shake to her voice. No doubt she was angry.

‘You are my wife. Your place is here.’

It was as close as he was going to get to begging. He had begged Eloise and she had laughed at him. He certainly wasn’t going to beg his wife, even if he wanted to. A band of iron seemed to tighten around his chest. His heart hurt.

No. Not that again. He had vowed never to let any woman hurt him that way again. If she didn’t trust him to do the right thing, to the devil with her. Let her go to her sisters.

Anger swelled in his chest, hot and hard. A wife should trust her husband. He had done nothing, nothing at all, to make her act this way.

Her face paled. Her voice shook as she spoke. ‘The last time Primrose wrote to me, she said Father had not been well. I am worried about him. He can be difficult when he has the ague.’

Lie. ‘You never mentioned that.’

‘I didn’t want to trouble you,’ she said in a low voice, her eyes watching him like those of a scared cat; one move and it would claw its way up the curtains. Was she scared of him…the way his mother had been scared of his father? Horror filled him at the thought. He felt sick.

She glanced down at his hands and stepped back a fraction. He realised his fists were clenched. No; this was not him.

He took a deep breath and cut himself off from his anger, from his feelings.

‘I’ll make sure the carriage is ready for your conveyance, then. I assume you can be ready within the hour?’

She nodded.

‘I assume you will be staying at your father’s house? Blackdown Hall is not yet ready for occupation.’

She nodded again.

‘Good.’

He turned and left on legs that felt stiff. His whole body felt stiff, with anger, disappointment and…he didn’t know what else besides.

Let her go before he did something he would regret. Because one thing was certain: he was not going to turn into his father, no matter the provocation. Even if their marriage was a failure.

‘I did not expect to see you back so soon,’ Lilian said, handing Florence a cup of tea. ‘Not while the season is in full swing. I’ve been reading all about it in the papers, hoping to see your name.’

A chill ran down Florence’s back. Would the papers mention her abrupt departure? Oh, she hoped not. Graydon would be so angry—more angry. She shivered.