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"That is precisely why I am telling you this. As her husband, you should know." A pint of ale he had probably ordered was set before him on the table and he took a sip. "You might have noticed that she is not as shy as most genteel women regarding… surely, you must have been curious where her boldness came from."
Albert was on the verge of making him bleed. "I know the sort of woman my wife is, and I do not need you to tell me anything."
"Ah, but one cannot help the curiosity that such oddities might have piqued, right?" he insisted.
Damn him,he is right. Edwinahadbeen bold for an innocent lady. He had wondered at first, but he loved that boldness.
"I speak of your wife's virtue in case you are wondering, Your Grace."
"What do you mean her virtue?" Albert asked, his ire rising anew.
"I am only saying that Edwina told me what she wanted, and I gave it to her. I taught her to love her body, and she loved me for it. She still does." John drank more of his ale.
If anger made a sound, Albert thought he heard it as it coursed through his veins.
"Trustis,after all a fragile thing. Breaking such a bond with a man of your stature would be a very unwise thing to do. Thus, it is understandable that she would refrain from mentioningus."
"Trust," Albert mused. “You sent that unmarked letter, did you not?"
"Ah, you caught me." John raised his hands as if in surrender.
"Was Roxanne not enough for you?" The man was like a curse that plagued him.
"Roxanne was more than enough. Sadly, it was I that was not enough for her."
That did not surprise Albert. "Now, listen to me, Mills. Your relationship with my wife happened long ago. It is over. I would advise you to stop holding it against her to assuage your bruised pride." He rose, while John’s face turned red, and his mouth opened. "Perhaps one day, you would find a woman that would want you." Then he left.
The following morning, Albert was holding his aching head in his study when a tentative knock sounded, followed by Edwina walking in. He straightened to regard her. It had only been hours, but she looked small and frail. "Albert,” she said quietly, “can we talk ab—"
"Not now, Edwina," he said honestly. He did not think he could have such a conversation in that instant because his head almost felt as though it was no longer a part of his body.
"I did not realize that John was Roxanne's—”
"Edwina!" He shot to his feet, crossing the room to stand in front of her. He did not wanther,of all people, to remind him of his foolishness. He wanted to be a man deserving of her, and he was not that person right now. He could not face her.
"Albert, all I ask is that you give me a chance to explain myself. You can make your conclusions and judge me after."
"I am not judging you," he said impatiently. Perhaps it was his headache, but he was not thinking well.
"Truly?" She bristled. "Because that was what you did last night, accusing me and not listening to what I have to say."
"I am listening now.” There was, after all, one detail he wished to confirm after his conversation with John. “Why don't you tell me about your little pleasure lessons with John Mills?"
She gasped. The thought of her with another man—even in the past, and especially John Mills—awakened a bitter jealousy in him.
"How dare you?" she cried. "What gives you the right to ask that? You said you did not judge me."
He was not being fair to her, he knew it, but his heart was breaking. She loved John, not him. He would do anything for her, anything. The night before had torn his wounds open again, and he was bleeding profusely. As long as he continued to bleed, he did not know how to behave around her.
"Tell me that Mills is lying about your affair, Edwina. Tell me.” He took her shoulders, almost pulling her into his arms and holding her. Perhaps if he did that, she would relinquish her love for another man and embrace his.
"I cannot lie to you, Albert," she said, stepping away from him, rending his soul. There was his answer; her heart still belonged to John. He did not want to hear the rest of what she had to say. He did not want to hear her say the words aloud.
"Go, Edwina," he said, his voice resigned.
"Albert—”
"No." He ran a hand through his hair. She regarded him as though he was someone she did not know anymore. Albert watched her turn on her heels and march to the door.
