until now. She was not a child. Were they treating her this way because she’d acted like one in the past?
“I’ll go ahead and reserve rooms,” Westerley said.
“We won’t be far behind you.” Stone sounded grim. He didn’t say another word even after the dust Westerley’s horse kicked up had settled.
“Hiya.” He stared straight ahead as he drove.
“I’m sorry.” She couldn’t stand the silence.
“I am too.” But he didn’t sound as though he wanted to reconcile with her. He sounded angry.
They needed to talk about this.
“You didn’t tell him we were married.”
This had him glancing at her in disgust. “I was too busy wondering when the hell you had remembered. And then I wondered if all of it had been a lie—a means for you to avoid facing your mistakes.”
“Is that all everyone sees this as? Tabetha’s stupid mistake?” Archie had climbed onto her lap and then burrowed his way into her arms.
“Honestly, Tabetha, I don’t give a damn.”
She rubbed her chin over Archie’s head, feeling cold and alone. Tabetha didn’t want to talk to him when he was like this. It hurt too much.
And it wasn’t as though she was the only one who had perpetuated falsehoods. The fact was, he’d pretended they were in love. And even after they’d left The Tartan Scarf, he’d gone on allowing her to believe he was gainfully employed, as an estate manager.
But, not everything had been a lie. In fact most of it, she suspected, had been quite real.
She refused to believe otherwise.
Staring off to the side of the road, she determined to wait until his anger was in check.
“Mister Rock Chester!” She nearly snorted in disbelief that she’d fallen for such a name.
She couldn’t wait until he was in a more receptive mood to clear this up. They had to talk now.
Determined to have this out, she drew in a deep breath.
“Most of my memory returned the first time. When I gave you my virginity.” She lifted her chin and stared forward. It was a harsh reminder for him, but if he could be obstinate then so could she.
“I’ll tell him tonight.” And then he clamped his lips together in a tight line.
“And then what?” She stared at his profile.
He closed his eyes for a moment and exhaled when he opened them. “I don’t know.”
She’d known the truth all day. That was something the old Tabetha would have done—play games with something as significant as that. She’d asked him all sorts of questions to trip him up. Had it all been a joke to her?
But she wasn’t the same as she’d been before.
As much as he’d like to believe that discovering she’d hidden something so important from him was the only reason he was angry with her, he’d be lying to himself.
He’d been furious with her before Westerley appeared. Because she’d essentially admitted that loving him was not enough. She’d said she was missing something.
Her confession was even worse in that it was something he’d known all along. And now, since he’d been unable to exercise any self-control where she was concerned, she was going to be trapped with him for a lifetime. She’d have decades to resent the fact that she’d given up her dream of position and status.
Because of him.
Stone clenched his fists on the reins, and then relaxed them when Polly startled.
Tabetha’s obsession with winning a grand title was somehow connected to her father. He realized that now. But knowing why she needed the recognition wasn’t going to change what she wanted—what she needed to accept herself.
Even if she did love him, no doubt it would prove to be fleeting. Hell, he’d saved her from Culpepper. Likely she was experiencing nothing more than a temporary bout of hero worship.
What he failed to comprehend, however, was why she’d allowed him to make love to her after she’d remembered.
Three times during the night and once again when they’d stopped.
Even if he couldn’t see her out of the corner of his eyes, he could feel her fidgeting. Touching her bonnet, smoothing her sleeves, fussing with her bodice.
“I didn’t go with Culpepper just because I want people to envy me.” She broke the silence. “I know everyone thinks I was just mad about winning a duke, but there’s more to it than that.” She sounded broken, defeated.
“Why don’t you explain it to me then?”
“Months before his death, my father wanted to travel to London to take Westerley to task. He’d been hearing that my brother’s exploits had gotten… out of hand. Bethany