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CHAPTERTWENTY-SIX
“Are you still writing, Elizabeth?” Rhys asked, picking a piece that she had cut out from yesterday’s issue ofThe Times.
“I never said I was going to stop,” she replied, pulling her dress up and pushing her arms through the sleeves.
Rhys stood, his posture imposing and quite intimidating, but Elizabeth would not allow herself to feel any intimidation from him. “I thought we agreed that you will think about retirement.”
“You asked me to think about it, but I never gave you my word.” She met his gaze, inwardly grimacing at his sudden change. There was no hint of the passionate man who had been giving her pleasure only moments ago.
He ran his fingers through his hair. “You saw the people gathered in front of our house this afternoon. Elizabeth, I do not know what will happen if anyone discovers you.”
“No one will discover me,” she argued. “I have covered my trail well, and I intend to publish once a week instead of daily now that my life has changed. It will be harder to find me now that I am not in London.”
Rhys shook his head. “That is not enough.”
“That is not for you to say.” She was angry now, and he needed to know that she was not malleable.
“Can you not see that I am trying to protect you?” His voice was slightly raised, and he looked more exasperated than angry.
Elizabeth thought he was concerned about his reputation, and she said, “No, I think you are trying to protect the pristine image you want the world to have of your wife.” She did not believe he cared about her enough to want to protect her. It was all about his name and reputation as it had always been. This hurt her more than she ever thought it would because she wanted him to accept her as she was.
“Is that what you believe?” he asked her.
“Yes.” He opened his mouth as if to say something, but he closed it then he turned on his heel and walked out of the room. Her eyes filled with tears, and she blinked furiously against them.
I will not cry because of Rhys. I will not!She lowered herself onto her knees and gathered the papers. They would talk about this again, she was sure, but she would not relent.
* * *
Rhys opened the carriage door and held his hand out to Elizabeth after the carriage had stopped in front of Guildford Castle three days later. She accepted his help and murmured, “Thank you,” to which he answered with a brief nod.
They had barely said anything to each other since their argument on the first night. This might be the way their marriage would be, and Elizabeth hated to think about it. She missed him; she missed seeing him smile and hearing his jests.
Every servant in the Castle was outside to welcome them, and Rhys introduced her first to the housekeeper, Mrs. Carter, and then, to the butler, Webster.
Although they received her warmly, she could not help but wonder if they were disappointed that she was Lady Guildford instead of Irene. Shaking the thought away, she smiled as Rhys guided her up the marble steps and into the Castle.
He released her hand when they entered one of the drawing rooms. “I will leave you in Mrs. Carter’s care. There are estate matters that require my immediate attention.”
Elizabeth nodded stiffly. “Of course,” she replied then she watched him walk out of the room, her throat tightening. She found a chair and sat, thinking of what she could do to take them back to the way they were before. He might come back to her if she agreed to do what he wanted, but then she would lose what she held dear. No, it was not going to happen.
“My Lady.” Elizabeth looked up to see Mrs. Carter walk in with a footman bearing a tea tray. “I thought you should have some tea after such a long journey.”
“It is just what I wanted.” Elizabeth smiled gratefully. “It is quite a cold day.”
“Indeed, My Lady. It has been blowing and raining here for several days. I blame the sea for such inclement weather.”
The sea! Elizabeth had forgotten about the sea. She had not gotten the chance to walk by it the last time she was here, but she could do that now, and perhaps it was what she needed to rearrange her thoughts and find a better mood. Brutus might love the walk, too.
“I think I would like to take a walk by the sea after tea,” Elizabeth suggested as the footman set the tray down in front of her.
“In this cold afternoon, My Lady?” Mrs. Carter’s brows rose.
“It is not freezing,” she chuckled.
“I suppose, My Lady.”
Elizabeth glanced at the tea tray before looking back at the housekeeper. “Will you join me, Mrs. Carter? I would like to be more acquainted with you and also learn a little about the Castle.”
