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“He is myfriend,”she cried in exasperation. “What do I have to do to end this enmity between you?”
Nicholas did not respond. He was still angry even though his voice was calm. Phineas returned with Umbra. "Thank you for opening my eyes tonight, Jenny," Phineas said before taking her hand and placing a gallant kiss on her knuckles, and handing her Umbra's reins.
Nicholas looked away at Phineas’ courtly gesture. At least, he was not openly showing his dislike of it, which Jenny appreciated. The two men regarded each other for a moment before Phineas mounted his horse and rode back from whence he had come, disappearing into the copse of trees.
“What did he mean by that?” Nicholas asked, taking Umbra’s reins from her hand and beckoning at a groom in the distance to take her. Jenny assumed he was going to make her ride with him.
“He shared some of his troubles with me and I helped him.”
“Did you share yours?” he whispered sadly.
“Yes,” she admitted. Phineas had said nothing but she suspected he was aware her marriage was troubled.
Nicholas sighed, looking anguished, before saying, “I don’t like this but we shall talk about it at home. Let’s go..” Then he turned and began to walk toward his horse.
“Is it so hard for you to respect him?” She called after him, refusing to follow him as he was expecting her to.
He stopped. “Let’s go home, Jenny.”
Either Jenny was on a streak of stubbornness or she was losing her mind. “Where is home, Nicholas? That fancy pile of bricks? I am not going back there.”
He turned to face her. “Where will you go then?”
“I don’t know.” She wanted to be anywhere but there. She wanted to continue fighting for his love but returning to her bedchamber tonight would remind her of her sadness.
“Come home with me, Jenny,” he implored, coming to her.
“I don’t want to, Nicholas. At least, not tonight.” She shook her head and looked away.
He took her shoulders. “This is my fault, I know. I hate myself for doing this to you. I hate myself for letting you go to another man to cry. Understand that if I had a choice… Please come home.”
“We always have a choice,” she said, shrugging his hands off her shoulders and brushing past him to her mare. When she mounted, she added. “Make your choice. Am I your wife or am I a decoration in your house?”
