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Whisky.
“Ah, you’re awake, Sybil.” Swaying, Humphry indicated the candle on the drawers as he placed his own next to it and removed his banyan as if this were his everyday ritual. His breathing was labored and she recoiled from the strong spirits on his breath.
“It’s not often you visit me, Humphry,” Sybil remarked, hoping her voice did not betray the fierce hammering of her heart. She concentrated on his large feet, which he was heaving onto the bed after the rest of him.
He grunted. “Tonight brought home how foolish I’ve been to allow my natural disinclination to prevent me from doing my duty.”
She twisted her face to look at him. Good God, he was smiling at her as if he didn’t realize how wounding his words were. Natural disinclination? Why, this was the most callous rebuttal of, not just her major role but her worth as a woman.
“You were very clever to play for time, Sybil.” He chuckled as he settled in beside her. His words were slightly slurred. “Now that Edgar is proving worse than we’d feared, I saw that whatever it cost me, I had to do my duty...get you with child.” A spasm crossed his face. “And there’s only one man who can do that.”
The touch of his hairy ankle against her leg made her jerk away. Whatever it cost me? he’d said. What about what it cost her?
She’d always been a good wife. A loyal wife but what about her loyalties to her own heart? To the man who valued her? Her young lover. Did they really count for nothing?
Humphry raised one eyebrow as he obviously registered her less than enthusiastic welcome. “Should I kiss you first?” he asked. He looked almost revolted by the idea. “To help you relax?”
Sybil raised her chin, inching every piece of herself away from even the warmth of his large body. “Actually, Humphry, tonight is not a good night for you to visit.” She was careful not to betray her rising fury. “I’m sorry if you’ve had to ply yourself with whisky just to make the idea of venturing in here even possible. The fact is, I have the most terrible megrim.”
He digested this in silence. Then, grumbling, heaved himself out of bed and put on his banyan, swaying almost dangerously and looking decidedly displeased. “Well, that’s grand timing. After all, it was you who suggested—”
“I suggested that unless you were content for Edgar to succeed you one of us had better do something about it,” Sybil cut him off. “However tonight is simply not convenient.”
If he hadn’t been foxed he might have questioned her unprecedented response, the crispness of her tone, her clear aversion to him. The fact that she would even reject him.
He stumbled as he gave the final, almost indignant tug to secure the tie of his banyan and it occurred to Sybil he may well not have been able to perform in any case. But the thought was too repugnant to dwell upon and she simply lay back on her pillows and nodded politely as he grunted his intention to depart.
The moment he was gone Sybil flew to the window.
Dear God, thank you for sparing Stephen, she whispered silently when she saw no sign of his broken body on the gravel far below.
She strained for a glimpse of him, anxiously scanning the broad expanse of lawn that disappeared towards the woods with the lake beyond, and her breath left her in a low, relieved sigh.
Right now nothing else was more important than ensuring no harm came to Stephen. She owed him everything. She put her hand to her chest where long-latent feelings of joy and hope had been brought to life. It was the greatest gift she’d ever been given.
* * * * *
The following day Sybil attended to her duties as lady of the manor, with her brain barely engaged on issuing orders for the rooms for tomorrow night’s guests to be made ready.
Humphry made his usual appearance at breakfast. Usual in that he’d been there every morning since his mistress had departed. He seemed unperturbed by the previous night’s exchange, merely nodding to her over his news sheet. Sybil’s heart weighed her down like a heavy stone.
“Young lady’s here to see you, my lord.”
Humphry raised his eyebrows at the message brought by Mary but Sybil did not miss the almost clandestine look in her direction before he replied, “Tell her I’ll see her in the drawing room.” He hesitated, adding to Sybil, “You must have more of the bacon, dear. It’s very good.”
Sybil was not going to be fobbed off like that but she waited a moment before making her own appearance in the drawing room two minutes later.
She was just in time to hear her husband say under his breath, “It was wrong of you to venture here, Larissa, but I shall come.” At her arrival the pair drew quickly apart.
He glanced at Sybil. “Miss Laurence is asking if I’d be patron of the new school in the village and I’ve agreed.”
Sybil nodded at the large-eyed creature who’d stared at them from the passing carriage on the way to their picnic spot a few days ago.
“A new school? What a novel idea.” Sybil smiled, inviting the young lady to sit, but Miss Laurence declined after a fleeting look at Humphry.
Her father.
Sybil watched the exchange. Anguish clawed at her and she longed to inform Humphry that she knew exactly who Miss Laurence was.
