Italy all this time instead? It would seem that he had.
"I shall walk you to the door and have your carriage summoned if you wish."
"Thank you, yes." Molly couldn't imagine what she was going to say to Hugh. How would she face him knowing who he really was? A stranger she did not know, not really. The forthcoming confrontation left a hollow feeling in her chest and dread to pool in her stomach. How did one leave a marriage? The idea was too awful to contemplate.
Molly found Hugh in his tablinum upon her return to the villa. She shut the door and poured herself a well-needed brandy before seating herself across from him. His eyes followed her, hungry and burning with appreciation.
Normally his heady intent would have her slipping onto his lap to let him do as he wished, but not tonight and possibly never again. The idea of not being with him, her Mr. Armstrong, her husband making love to her, and spending time and doing all the things they had planned made her want to scream at the universe.
"Good evening, wife. How did you enjoy the ball? You did not stay overly long. Is everything well?"
She downed her drink, slamming the crystal glass onto his desk. "I did not enjoy it at all, unfortunately."
He sat back in his chair, and the heat that was banked in his eyes a moment before was replaced with unease. "Why is that? Did something happen?"
Molly shook her head, the image of her cousin and her small child dead in their coffin rising up in her mind like a ghoul. How could he have treated them like that? As if they were not worthy of his name and protection. How could she have married the very man who had ruined her cousin's life and the lives of her relatives? They had been devastated by the death of their only daughter. To this day, her aunt’s wailing screams when Laura passed from this world would haunt her for the rest of her days.
She bit back tears, schooling her features. "I'm curious, Hugh, just what I should call you. Mr. Armstrong, whom I married, Lord Farley after what I was told this evening, His Grace, the Duke of St. Albans? Perhaps Duke will suffice since we're on intimate terms."
"Hugh will be just fine." His voice held an edge of steel, and she wanted to bend that metal rod, twist it, so it was no longer so rigid and unforgivable.
"You're Lord Farley? Now the Duke of St. Albans. I do not understand."
"I am now." He nodded, raising his brow. "You've heard of my family?"
She scoffed, wishing she did not know of his family as well as she did, but that was never to be. The past had occurred, the horrors along with it, and there was no changing that. "Lord Hugh Farley fled England after he was accused of dallying with an heiress, getting a child onto her, and leaving her to face the ton's wrath. Alone."
He didn't say anything, merely watched her in silence, and the urge to throw something at him, break his calm visage, overwhelmed her. Molly clasped the handles of the chair, forcing herself to not move.
"Did you ruin Miss Laura Cox, Hugh?"
"Who told you that I did? Lady Brandon? She is no reliable source, and I would not believe everything that she has to say."
"I've known Rose for some years, and trust her word. Stop hesitating. Are you the one who society cast out due to your actions toward Laura?"
A muscle worked in his jaw. His lips thinned. "I am the very man who was forced to leave England over the scandal. But not everything is as it seems, Molly. Allow me to explain, and you may think differently."
Molly slapped a hand over her mouth, having heard enough. "See things differently." She stood. "You must be jesting. I will never see anything of that situation other than what occurred. You slept with my cousin, ruined her, and then left her for dead. She did die by the way, during the birth of your son. Did you know that?"
He stared at her, his eyes wide, his face draining of color. "Laura was your cousin? But your last name was Clare. I knew Miss Cox in town, and not once did I see you with her."
"My uncle made his fortune importing and exporting goods from India, he married my father's sister. My father is a vicar. A modest life and income, and because