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“My father always challenged his ideology in the House of Lords, and they were rivals,” she continued, her gaze on a lantern that hung from a tree. “Suddenly, he changed and began to agree with my father’s views. We met at Almack’s and he started courting me. He made me an offer and a wedding was planned.”
Choler churned in his stomach at the thought of Bridget possibly loving Magnus. Such a man did not even deserve her kindness.
“Three days to the wedding, he tried to kiss me in an alcove at a ball, then dragged me out of it and told everyone that I was ruined by another man.” Her voice sounded distant as she spoke. “No one would believe a woman’s word against a man’s, and I was shunned for a while. Not everyone believed him, you see, and they were kind enough to invite me to events, although nothing at any of the social clubs. My father’s reputation at the House of Lords also suffered. My brother lost some of his good standing, too.”
Bridget turned to look at him, her expression blank. He reached up to stroke her cheek. “I am sorry, Bridget.”
She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. “Do not be, Harry. I would not have met you, had I not been disgraced.” She kissed his palm when he cupped her cheek. “If I could travel in time, I would choose this same course.”
He drew her into his arms, cradling her head to his chest. She belonged with him and nowhere else.
“We should find Belinda and go home,” he said a moment later.
Bridget pulled away and regarded him. “No, we should let her have a good evening. We can send the carriage back for her.”
He smiled and got them to their feet, then they slipped out of the soirée, leaving a message for Lord and Lady Dilworth with the butler.
Back at Grayfield, they sat in the blue salon that was hardly used, and Harry poured them some gin.
“At the ball last week, you met him, did you not?” he asked after recalling the vulnerable look he had seen in her eyes.
“Yes,” she admitted, finishing the finger of gin in her glass. “I did not tell you because I thought he would not speak to me again, and I was not sure you knew who he was.”
“I knew who he was before we married.” He held her eyes. “He is not going to bother you again, I promise.”
She nodded and rested her head on his shoulder. “You did very well tonight,” she whispered. He finished his gin, thinking he had done what needed to be done to protect her.
“Harry,” she yawned, “thank you.”
“I have you.” He took the glass from her hand and set it down on a table beside his. “Let me walk you to your chambers.”
He helped her to her feet and with their hands linked, they walked up to the third floor, to her chambers. At the door, he kissed her hands and murmured good night before turning to leave.
Bridget quickly caught his hand. “Come with me, please.”
“You know I cannot, Bridget. The nightmares…”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and drew his face down so their cheeks touched and her lips were close to his ear. “I will send them away,” she whispered. “I will protect you as you have done countlessly for me.”
“Bridget,” he began to protest but she was already pulling him into the sitting room that adjoined her bedchamber, and he did not resist.
“Stay with me, Harry,” she whispered again and he could not bring himself to leave her.
“I will,” he said.
They entered the bedchamber and he removed his coat, cravat, waistcoat, and shoes while she undressed in her dressing room. Harry did not want to think about what they ought to be doing in this bedchamber. After waking him twice from his nightmares, he wanted nothing more than to keep her safe from himself.
She returned in a shift and climbed the bed, holding her hand out to him. He took it and climbed in beside her, deciding he would leave once she fell asleep.
Holding her in his arms, he leaned back against the pillows and closed his eyes. Soon, his consciousness was stolen by slumber, and for the first time in a while, nothing haunted him.
Chapter 25
Bridget woke enveloped in warmth, and Harry’s soft breathing reminded her of his presence. Smiling, she started to turn to get a better view of him, but his arm draped around her waist prevented her, and she did not wish to wake him.
He moved, and she felt his lips on her shoulder as he kissed her. He pulled her back against his hard body, and she was instantly ablaze with need.
“Are you awake?” she whispered, turning to face him with his arm still circling her waist. Her hand rested on his chest, and the muscles contracted.
