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Chapter 26
The guilty look on Isabel’s face said everything Rhys needed to know. She knew.
She’d heard about the rumor but decided not to speak to him about it for one reason or another.
It hurt.
For some unknown reason, it hurt that she had not brought up this subject. Perhaps she was trying to spare his feelings because she had married him anyway. But his rational mind refused to step in.
“I never believed it,” she said, then looked down. “Well, maybe only for a moment.”
Rhys let out a hoarse chuckle. “You weren’t far from the truth.”
Her head shot up, and her mouth fell open.
“I was very young when we married,” he said and started pacing. “I had a new responsibility upon my shoulders, a responsibility I wasn’t prepared for. And on top of that, I had a young, beautiful wife.
“She wasn’t from nobility, you see. She was a vicar’s daughter. So we both were clueless about the weight on our shoulders.” He shook his head. “She thought that ladies of the house lounged about all day sipping tea and exchanging gossip. I am half-convinced that was the only reason she ever married me. Because now I see as clear as day that she never loved me.”
“But you loved her?”
Rhys raised his head. He’d almost forgotten he was not alone in the room. He nodded. “I thought I did. It is hard to say for certain because of what followed, but at the time, I thought I did.”
“What happened?”
Rhys looked into the fire, his gaze blurring. “It took me time to learn of my responsibilities as a landowner. Too much time. I was always busy, always away. My bride grew restless. We had difficulties conceiving, and it just added pressure on our relationship.
“We started arguing every day. Abigail—that was her name—became cold and distant. When she finally started increasing, I thought things would get better, but they didn’t. She became more and more irritable. But I wasn’t much better either. I was rude, arrogant, bad-tempered—”
“I can’t imagine,” Isabel said with a smile in her voice, but Rhys didn’t find it amusing.
“One night after a huge argument, she ran off, and in a fit of rage, I left that night, too.” He cleared his throat. “We both left Millicent alone in the house.”
Isabel sat up. “Surely she wasn’t alone? Servants must have been with her.”
Rhys nodded. “Yes. Abigail had hired a nursemaid for Millie.” He swallowed. “That woman slapped my daughter for every little infraction.”
Isabel covered her face with her hands.
“I didn’t know. Nobody knew until Mrs. Ainsworth walked in on it happening just like you did. But Millie was just a babe back then.” He shook his head, tears of frustration prickling at the back of his eyes. “When I returned a few weeks later, my wife was still gone. In her place was a note, which said that she would not be coming back. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, Mrs. Ainsworth told me why she had dismissed the nursemaid. She had feared I would chastise her for letting go of a servant without my approval. Apparently, Abigail was not fond of people disobeying her orders no matter how ridiculous or harmful.”
“How old was Millicent?” Isabel asked, her voice small.
“A little over two years old.”
“She was just a babe!” Isabel’s eyes watered, and her face was red from anger.
Rhys nodded. “She had bruises on her little body. I didn’t see them, but Mrs. Ainsworth told me that later. But I vowed from that moment on that I would never let Millicent out of my sight. And I haven’t since….”
Isabel grimaced. “Until you trusted me to find a proper governess.”
“It’s not your fault. I should have been there—”
“That is not rational! You cannot possibly guard Millicent her entire life. But I was in the house, I—” Her voice broke.
There was a beat of silence as Isabel wiped her tears away, and Rhys just stood there staring at his crying wife. He’d been holding on to that pain and anger for so long, it was good to let it out.
“She had other governesses after that,” he said. “But the moment Millie mentioned she didn’t like them, or if she looked at them with her adorable frowning little brows, I dismissed them immediately.”
