had trapped her and held her for his own foolish reasons. Even England’s glory in the China Sea seemed unimportant next to the pain he had seen in a small white hand picking at a pillow’s lace.
He lowered his eyes, away from the moon, back to the streets, and headed home.
Grayness enveloped all. Marguerite pried open eyes encrusted from hours of crying. She could not remember sleeping, but it was dawn. Slow, damp light moved across the room. She rolled on her side and stared at the unwelcome morning.
She felt fine. She did not even ache. She wanted the pains of yesterday – some physical manifestation of all she had lost. She brushed a hand across her stomach, pressed against the womb that still felt so empty. How could she miss that which had never been?
She had dreamed of calling Tristan all through the long afternoon and night, but had been unwilling to risk that he would not come, would not understand.
Cold and desolate, she swung her feet out of bed and went to the window. It was later than she had realized. Only the drabness of the day had fooled her. The maid must have been instructed to wait until she was called.
She pulled a deep breath into her lungs. She was still here, no matter how she felt. She walked back to the bed and rang for the maid. She would not hide from the life that stretched forward. While living with her mother she’d had practice at existing from one moment to the next.
The silent maid arrived and helped her dress. Marguerite wondered if she needed a voice at all. Life seemed to progress whether she spoke or not.
She started down the great stairs. Tristan had probably already left for his clubs. The quiet of the house echoed. Not even the patter of servants’ feet could be heard.
She approached the dining room, but stopped before reaching the door. She could not face the grand room, the sideboard laid out with countless dishes to tempt one small appetite. She turned instead and headed to the south parlor. Even on such a bleak morning it should offer some light, some brightness. Surely the sunny yellow chintz would provide cheer.
She entered and sat, smiled. The smile stretched across her cheeks pulling at the skin. She tilted her chin up, reached her out her hand to call the maid. It was just another morning. Any morning.
It really was no different than yesterday.
She felt him before she heard him. There was not a sound, but she could feel the whisper of air. He was here. She refused to look around.
“I am pleased to see you up, Marguerite. I thought you would spend the day resting,” he said.
The smile was still fixed across her cheeks. “No, such a minor complaint does not require a stay in bed.”
“I understand enough to know that normally that would be true, but . . .”
“There is nothing abnormal about the situation. I am as well as any woman at such a time.” She still did not look at him.
His boots sounded on the wood as he came to stand before her. “I think you are wrong.”
“No, do not presume to know me better than I know myself.” The buttons on his waistcoat were painted with daisies. He did not seem a man to wear flowers. She shut her eyes and looked again. Daisies.
“I merely meant that such a circumstance must be upsetting.”
“There is no circumstance. I made a mistake. It has been corrected. Now, we must try to correct the other mistakes we have made. I thought I would leave for Glynwolde tomorrow as you had previously desired. Only this time you would not need to join me.” The daisies were white and pink. Pink? Again, it did not fit what she knew of him. Perhaps his valet dressed him. The world was so much more pleasant when you worried only about daisies and buttons.
“No.”
“No?” Now, she did look up, beyond his buttons, to his face. She could not read anything. His features were as blank as her heart.
“No. I find that I require your company in town for the next months.”
“Require.” She dropped her glance. There were tiny blue flowers also. Forget-me-nots?
“Yes, you are my wife. Does that present a problem?”
She drew in a breath. Fighting took so much energy. “No, but I would think life would be simpler if I left. I could have the rest I desire and you – you could continue with