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Her voice was a mere whisper, but he stiffened. His expression shuttered but not before she read the truth of it. Prue recoiled, taking several steps back. He did not follow her, and she was grateful for it. The very thing she had not wanted was to marry a fortune hunter or a man whose only desire of her was her dowry.
“I’ve had the wrong expectations of my marriage for the last three years,” she said hoarsely. “If I had known…if I had known you decided to marry me only for my wealth, I would have braved the scandal of a ruined reputation.”
She closed her eyes against the sharp memory of falling, of feeling helpless and unhappy, and then he was there. Her honorable rescuer, who in truth had only approached her for selfish motives. She must have presented as such easy prey. “Did you follow me that night into the gardens?”
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Of course not. I simply wanted to breathe from the crush and stumbled upon your mishap.”
“Was it in honor that you chose to offer for me?”
“I offered for you because I quickly analyzed the situation and saw where we could enter a mutually beneficial marriage. Your reputation needed saving, and I, unfortunately, needed to marry an heiress to save the family.”
The hurt spread from her heart and blossomed everywhere. Unwelcome tears welled in her eyes, and she blinked to keep them back. “You only forgot to tell me about it,” she whispered. “If you did, I would have never owned such unrealistic expectations of you…of us…and made an utter fool of myself in trying to seduce you into loving me.”
Her husband jolted before his entire body stilled. “You did not make a fool of yourself.”
“Then, do you love me?” Such brave words when he had the power to cut her heart to ribbons.
“Prue…bloody hell, what is this?”
“Answer me, my lord.”
“I feel somuchfor you.” He raked his fingers through his hair.
“But not love.”
He slashed his hand in the air, almost violently. “What is love? And why the hell does it matter between two people who respect each other, have a healthy sexual relationship, and have fun together? What is this ridiculous insistence on love? It is but a word, Prue. Are we less without it? Are we more? You are my damn wife, my countess, and that is what matters!”
It is but a word.
“When you take me to your bed and touch me with such passion and tenderness…and such intensity...what is that?”
“It is the natural and healthy desire I own for you and what you also own for me.”
Why did that hurt?
“Prue,” he said gruffly, his eyes searching every nuance of her face. “Tell me what you want? I will…I will do my damnedest to give it to you.”
Are we less without it? Are we more?Her husband was simply a man who did not believe in love, and she had to learn how to adjust the hopes she had for her marriage. Many people in thetonhad successful marriages that were not based on sentiment.
“I daresay you are not capable of giving it. Now, if you will excuse me, I shall grab a book from the library to read before retiring to bed,” she said coolly.
For she would be damned if she crumpled before him. It was her foolish expectations that had led her to this pain. He had never made any promises, except when he gave his marriage vows. Then he had promised to love and honor her as his wife. Yet after uttering those traditional words, he had never told her, he loved her. So, how could she resent him for her naivety? Prue walked away, maintaining her dignity. At the top of the stairs, her knees buckled, and she clutched the banister for support. She needed space and time alone to mourn the loss of the hope she had lived with for so long. Oscar was her husband and would forever be her husband. He treated her with kindness and respect, and that should have to be enough. Manytonmarriages had less, and though many also had more—burning love and unquenchable passion, she would have to accept what Oscar was willing to give.
Those reasonings sounded logical. Reasonable. Yet her throat burned with the ache of unshed tears, and she wanted to curl into a ball and wept.
This intolerable pain will pass. Surely it will pass. And then we will go on as before.
Except Prue did not believe she would be able to hide her emotions, telling him that she loved only for him to remain indifferent to her sentiments. Even if she never voiced the words to him, that wound cut her deeply. She did not want to live in a loveless marriage but there was nothing else she could do. She had married Oscar and he was her husband and even if he fell short of her romantic dreams, she like Cecilia would have to find a way to live with it.
No, she would have to shore up her emotions behind a strong stone wall lest they tore her heart apart, day by day.
Chapter Fifteen
Two days after his wife's quiet exit from the library, Oscar realized something was bloody wrong. It wasn’t that Prue was angry that she had not known he required a fortune to re-establish his family fortunes. He had never seen such hurt in her gaze before, and he had placed it there.God damn it!He rubbed the spot over his chest that ached like a physical ailment.
There was something different in her eyes. They no longer glowed or shone brightly with her hopes and dreams. Her mouth smiled but only so far and the smile did not reach her eyes. She touched and joined him in his bed with the same desperate passion they had enjoyed with each other, but afterward, she did not curl up into his embrace and fall asleep in his arms, instead she slipped from his bed and retired to her room. Shutting the door between them softly.
Tonight, he had been to White’s, but he had been unable to concentrate on any of the conversation around him. The words had swum around him, and he had not contributed to the discussions. He had nursed his brandy and departed early. Reaching home after one in the morning, Oscar had retired to his chamber, discovering that the constant ache and doubt in his heart made him irritable. Now that he was home, he could not sleep, and that nameless restlessness still plagued him.
