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His expression was impossible to read, which was a sign that he did not like this line of enquiry. ‘Fine. What do you want to know?’
She blinked, not expecting him to give in. ‘I just... You don’t talk about your childhood much and you...never talk about the accident.’
A burst of what looked like pain flared in his eyes, and she half rose to her feet to go to him, but his expression hardened. ‘No,’ he snapped. ‘I’m not a child. I don’t need comforting. It was years ago. It’s fine.’
She stiffened. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.’
His blue gaze was cool, his expression unyielding for a second. Then it softened a little and he lifted a hand, rubbing at his temple. ‘Sorry, I don’t mean to snap. I’ve had a busy day and I’m tired.’
Her own hands itched, wanting to massage the tight muscles around his neck and shoulders, ease the physical pain that was obviously troubling him. But again, that would be what Freddie, his PA, would do, and she wasn’t his PA anymore. She didn’twantto be his PA anymore, she suddenly realised.
She wanted to be his wife.
‘Augustine,’ she said steadily. ‘You can’t expect me to take whatever you give me and be happy with it. I’m not your PA anymore. You wanted a full marriage and a full marriage involves give and take. And I’m not going to be the one doing all the taking, do you understand?’
A muscle leapt in his strong jaw. ‘So, what? I presume you were reading about the accident? Well, the car slid on a snowy road. There was black ice and the driver lost control of the car. It was no one’s fault. My father and the driver were killed instantly and I was injured.’
She took a silent breath, masking her own concern and hurt for him. That clearly wasn’t what he wanted and if she was going to get information out of him, they’d have to do it his way. That was fine. ‘Badly injured, right?’
‘I guess if you term taking a year to relearn even the most basic of bodily functions badly injured then yes, I was badly injured.’
‘Why do you do that?’ She couldn’t help it, the question just came out. ‘Why do you make light of everything that’s important to you?’
Again, his expression was like granite. ‘I don’t.’
‘Yes, you do. Everything terrible, that’s obviously painful to you, you joke about. Why? Is it easier? Do you need distance? What?’
That muscle leapt again. ‘Do we have to talk about this now?’
Her heart squeezed tight behind her breastbone. No, she didn’t want to. She didn’t want to make things harder for him, that was never what she’d wanted to do. But...she had no choice. If she was going to be his wife rather than his PA, she couldn’t let him call all the shots.
‘Yes,’ she said flatly. ‘Yes, I think we do.’
He didn’t want to talk about this. It was the last thing in the world he wanted to discuss. He’d spent a very productive week organising his wedding and dealing with announcing her as his chosen bride, and managing the refurbishment of the various parts of the castle that needed it, and he didn’t want to be distracted. Not when it felt as if he was finally accomplishing something worthwhile.
He just hadn’t expected her to be interested in his childhood or the accident, or anything really, mainly because she’d never expressed interest before. Then again, she’d been his PA before and their relationship had been purely professional.
It was nothing like professional now.
He shouldn’t have snapped at her, that was unfair, but he’d been caught off guard and the flare of grief when she’d mentioned it had also been unexpected. Then she’d moved to comfort him, and he hadn’t wanted that either. He’d already felt too vulnerable.
She always saw too much, that was the problem. She was attuned to him in a way no other person ever had been and he wasn’t sure he liked it.
She’s not wrong, though. It’s not fair to keep asking her for information when you won’t volunteer any of your own.
No, it wasn’t fair. But he didn’t want to talk about it, not with her. She affected him in ways he wasn’t prepared for and he didn’t have the capacity to deal with her affecting him any further.
Like her, in many ways, he’d been alone a long time, keeping people at a distance so his secret would stay his. It was automatic by now to keep that distance and Freddie had always respected it.
Yet she wasn’t now and he didn’t know why.
What he did know was that he was tired, and he had a headache, and this was a difficult conversation that he didn’t want to have, but maybe it was better to get it over and done with now. Surely if she knew all about the accident and his childhood, she’d eventually stop asking questions.
He shoved his hands in his pockets. ‘Yes, I do make light of things. Because you either laugh or you cry, isn’t that what they say?’
Her dark eyes held his. ‘And you’d rather laugh?’
‘Naturally. Crying would be unbecoming in a king.’
