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“I thought I could trust before, and she proved me wrong.”
“Who?” Simon asked, frowning again.
Fergus gave him a long look. “Miss Wilshire.”
“Oh, Lady –”
“I do not want to discuss her further,” Fergus interjected. “No, I cannot tell my wife these things. I do not want her to pity me.”
“It is not pity she would feel,” Simon told him, leaning forward. “Listen, Your Grace. You have been through so much these past five years. The war, your injuries, your broken engagement. Then your mother –”
“Do not mention my mother,” Fergus nearly growled.
Simon held up his hands. “I know it is a sensitive subject, but pretending like these things didn’t happen will not help you move on with your life. Do you want to spend the rest of your years like this – estranged from your wife, miserable and lonely?”
Fergus frowned. He knew Simon was right; he just was not ready yet. He still did not know if he could really trust Edwina. He wanted to, but something held him back.
“Shall we go over the figures?” Fergus asked, trying to change the subject.
Simon opened the ledger and slid it back over to him. However, he still could barely focus on the sums, even though Simon maintained his patience through the entire afternoon. The longer they sat in the library, pouring over the books, the more desperate Fergus felt to get away, to find some sort of relief. He had to do something to get his mind off Edwina and the emotions she stirred within him.
* * *
After his conversation with Simon, Fergus took a ride, needing to think. He kept riding, not to return until days later. The first night he felt guilty, the second unable to face Edwina’s disappointment. Finally, the third, he resolved to return, and face his shame.
As he rode home, he tried to think about what he might want to tell her. Everything should come out, but he tried to imagine what Edwina deserved to know first. He stayed distracted, rehearsing his lines, even when he got home, and James helped him to shave and dress.
“The blue or green, Your Grace?” James asked.
“What?” Fergus asked, turning.
James motioned to two waistcoats he had laid out. “I asked you three times, Your Grace, whether you wanted to wear the blue or the green today.”
“Blue,” Fergus said impatiently, trying to hide his embarrassment for not listening to James.
“Shall I send for Mr. Cleaves?” James asked. “He did ask me to let him know if you returned home.”
“Not yet,” Fergus told him quickly, putting his arms through the waistcoat sleeves James held. “Do you know where my wife is?”
“It has been her daily habit to take her tea in the garden,” James told him. “I believe the kitchen made a tray for her when I came up.”
“Thank you,” Fergus said dismissively and headed for the room. He found it fitting that he found Edwina in the garden. When she saw him approaching, she gave him a guarded smile. He tried not to look sheepish when she looked up to him.
“Well, a surprise to see you here,” she commented, holding her hand out to him politely. He kissed her knuckles carefully.
“How are you, Your Grace?” he asked her, debating whether to sit with her or not.
She took her hand back and placed it politely back in her lap, giving him a level look. Then, in an even tone, she asked, “Are you asking earnestly or out of politeness?”
He tried to hide the wince he felt, knowing he deserved her coolness. “I am earnest.”
She looked down at her lap for a moment as though composing her thoughts. Then, when she looked up, her expression looked practiced. “If I am honest, I have been concerned. I am terribly curious where you have been.”
Despite his good intentions, Fergus felt his heartbeat quickening and hesitated to tell Edwina the truth. He wanted to, but he just could not explain why his body seemed to betray him. Taking a deep breath, he held out his hand. All of his practiced lines seemed to evade him, and he could not remember what he wanted to tell her.
“Would you walk with me?” he asked, hoping walking might help to calm his nerves.
She let out a little exasperated sigh but stood, placing her hand on his arm. Even though she seemed annoyed and reserved, he felt happy that she did not ignore him or tell him to leave her alone. She maintained a tight expression as he led her out of the gazebo.
