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“But I took away your choice to do so.”
Oliver placed his hand on her shoulder. “It doesn’t matter,” he stated. “We are married, and I promised that I would be faithful to you. Until my dying breath, I will not betray you.”
She nibbled on her bottom lip before saying, “But what if I want more from this marriage?”
He furrowed his brow. “What are you saying?”
Meeting his gaze, unyielding, she said, “I have developed feelings for you, and I have tried to suppress them, but I can’t. If anything, they have only deepened.”
Oliver remained close but let his hand drop to his side. “I’m sorry, but I can’t give you any more of myself than I have already given you.”
A tear rolled down her cheek and she reached up to swipe it away. “I understand,” she said. “It is awfully unfair of me to want to change our agreement after we wed.”
“Emme—” he attempted.
She put her hand up, stilling his words. “Please, forget I said anything.”
“What if I don’t want to?”
“I think it would be for the best.” Emmeline took a step back. “If you will excuse me, I believe I shall retire for the evening.”
“Would you like me to escort you home?”
She shook her head. “I want to be alone right now.”
As she brushed past him, Oliver reached for her arm. “This has nothing to do with you, Emme,” he said. “You must know that.”
“Then what does it have to do with?” she asked, turning her gaze towards him.
“I’m afraid I am not at liberty to say.”
Emmeline gave him a sad smile. “If you ever decide to trust me, I can promise that I would be your fiercest ally.”
Oliver dropped her arm and watched as she hurried into the ballroom with her head held high. He had the sudden urge to chase after her, to apologize, but he remained rooted in place. He couldn’t do that to her, or himself. He stood by his words.
“Blast it,” he muttered under his breath.
His wife had bravely confessed that she had feelings for him, and he had to admit that he held her in high regard, as well. But he couldn’t act on his feelings. He was, first and foremost, an agent of the Crown.
Chapter Twelve
Emmeline leaned hershoulder against the windowsill as she stared out the window and wondered what was going to become of her. She had brazenly confessed her feelings to Oliver, and he had rejected her. He refused to let her in, to trust her.
A tear rolled down her cheek, but she didn’t bother to wipe it away. Her heart ached at the thought that she was trapped in a marriage to a man that she desperately cared for, knowing he didn’t hold her in the same regard.
The door to her bedchamber opened and her lady’s maid entered the room, closing the door behind her. “Are you ready to undress for bed, milady?” Mary asked in a cheerful voice.
“I suppose I am,” she said, glancing over at her.
Mary gave her a concerned look. “You’ve been crying.”
“I have,” she replied, seeing no reason to deny it.
“Whatever happened to make you so upset?”
Emmeline straightened from the windowsill and walked over to her bed. As she sat down, she revealed, “It was a mistake for me to go to the ball. Everyone was staring at me.”
“I am sure it only seemed that way,” Mary attempted.
