“I wish…” She rose to her feet as Nick saw tears gathering in her eyes. “I wish I could hate you, Nicholas. I cannot understand this decision you’ve made, to dwell in the loneliest form of hell imaginable, and to fashion a cell for me there as well. You are a lovable man, intelligent, kind, and decent. Your decision makes no sense to me, not now, when I see what potential we have together.”
She stalked off, skirts swishing madly, leaving Nick to sit in the dying sun and curse his fate.
When he came to bed that night, Nick found Leah doing a credible impersonation of sound sleep, though she was given away by the speed with which the pulse in her throat leaped and the fact that her mouth was closed. In sleep, Leah’s lips parted the barest fraction of an inch. Still, Nick didn’t blame her for avoiding him. He shifted and climbed naked onto the mattress, hating the ache in his chest and knowing she likely felt something similar.
Which was entirely his arrogant, presumptuous fault. He’d thought he could be a sexual convenience for her, within the limits of his self-imposed marital celibacy. He’d planned on being her, what? Her sexual friend, as he’d been to so many other women? And her husband, entitled and bound to protect her, and her social escort when duty required it.
He’d never, ever planned on seeing the depths of her courage, her humor, her tenacity, her loyalty to family. Her passion for him, and not just for the pleasure he could give her.
On a sigh, he shifted across the bed and reached for her. She surprised him by meeting him and cuddling into his arms as if they’d been married for twenty good, happy years. But when Nick leaned down to rest his cheek against hers, he felt the lingering dampness of her tears.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. Leah said nothing, but lacing her fingers through his, drew his arm securely about her waist.
Which left him feeling, as impossible as it seemed, yet sorrier still.
Fifteen
“So how do we do this, Nicholas?” Leah was sharing a glass of brandy with Nick in the Clover Down library, their evening meal concluded and the rain making a steady, battering downpour against the mullioned windows.
“How would it be least trying for you?” Nick asked, staring at his drink. Leah had chosen to sit beside him on the sofa, a generosity on her part he both treasured and detested.
She should hate him, for he most assuredly did hate himself, and his life.
“I found my years in Italy were made bearable by my brother’s companionship, and that of the people who lived around me. But I had the anticipation of Charles’s birth, and then his presence, to bring cheer to the whole experience.”
Nick closed his eyes at the practical way she delivered that blow.
“Shall we hire you a companion?”
“We shall not. I’ve made do without before, but I would like a riding horse of my own.”
“That’s easy enough to accomplish, but, Leah”—Nick risked a glance at her—“I don’t want you to feel you’re confined here. If you want to spend time at Belle Maison, or if you need the town house, send word. I’ve a number of places I can stay.”
Leah’s hands tightened on her glass, and Nick realized she was likely tormenting herself with thoughts of all the beds he’d be welcome in.
“Is there something wrong with me, Nicholas?”
“Wrong with you?” He speared her with a puzzled look. “Of course not. Why would you think that?”
“You are a man who enjoys the ladies. You made that plain when I accepted your proposal, but now, it seems of all the ladies in all the beds in all the towns of England, mine is the one bed you won’t share. I must conclude the fault lies with me.”
Nick felt gut-punched as he saw the flickering uncertainty behind the studied composure in Leah’s eyes, and yet, she had her finger on the difficulty: the difficulty was that she was his wife, his countess, and the only woman who could bear his legitimate heirs.
“The problem is that I do not want to have children with you, Leah,” Nick said slowly, staring at his glass. “I’ve been honest about that much from the start.”
“Do you dislike children, Nicholas?”
“I love children,” Nick said on a harsh exhalation. He wouldn’t lie to her about that, but the truth had him so frustrated, he had to set his drink down before he hurled it at the