“He was not a kind man,” Hyacinth said, the color seeping from her lovely face.
The urge to slam his fist into Southwick’s face was strong. “Did he harm you, darling?”
“With his words.” Hyacinth retrieved her wine, and he noted the tremble in her hands. “He only ever struck me once, but he would often hurt me in other ways.”
Tom went still. “He did you violence?”
Hyacinth’s gaze dropped. “Let us not speak of it any longer. Truly, you need not concern yourself with the circumstance of my marriage. It is over now, and I am better for its end. That is all I can say.”
Very well. She did not wish to unburden herself. She owed him nothing. Southwick was dead and buried, so Tom would forever be denied the opportunity for vengeance.
Besides, he was hardly her Sir Galahad. He was the man who wanted her body and no further complications. They had agreed upon a fortnight of mutual pleasure. What more did he expect? Still, a part of him longed for her to confide in him. He found himself wanting to know everything there was to know about her, the mysterious, lovely angel before him.
“Forgive me for bringing up painful memories,” he said at last, watching her some more. “He cannot hurt you any longer, and I am heartily grateful for that. Even if I wish I could beat him to a bloody pulp on your behalf.”
A smile tugged at her lips. “I rather fancy the notion of you charging to my rescue like a knight.”
“Would that I had been able to do so,” he said solemnly, meaning every word. “If I had known you, I would have gladly done my best to help you.”
“The way you did with your former betrothed?” she asked softly.
Her query took him by surprise. He had not believed she knew anything of his relationship with Nell. And he was not sure he liked it. The reminder of his failed bid at marriage left a sour churning in his stomach.
The urge to change the subject, to close this part of himself off like a door, was strong. But Hyacinth had just made some small revelations to him, and he felt it was only right to answer in kind.
“I hardly charged to her rescue,” he said slowly, struggling to give voice to what he had shared with Nell. Time had passed, but his wounds remained painful. Not nearly as painful as they had been a few days ago, he was surprised to realize. Was Hyacinth the reason?
The thought left him bemused.
Hyacinth took another sip of her wine. He could not help but to note she had scarcely eaten any of her dinner thus far.
“Her marriage was an unhappy one, however?” she pressed at length, appearing to choose her words with care.
He inclined his head. “She was unhappy in her union when our relationship began, yes. Her husband is a former friend of mine. An old school chum. He left her and was living abroad. I had always admired her, and I saw that she was lonely. Soon, I became convinced I was the means by which she could extricate herself from her unwanted marriage.”
“You must have loved her very much,” Hyacinth said.
“I thought I did.” The admission left him with difficulty, bringing with it a new question. Did he still love her?
As he looked inside himself now, he could not say for certain. Hyacinth had so completely eclipsed everything. He could not look upon her now, wearing his shirt, damn it all, the woman he had just made such thorough love to a mere hour before, and summon a single tender feeling toward Nell.
She smiled at him, somewhat wistfully. “What a fortunate woman she is. I suspect she could not have known what she had, or else she would never have chosen to return to her husband. I would never have done so, had I been in her place.”
“Alas, the lady in question did not share your sentiments,” he said, attempting to keep his tone light. To keep the darkness from overtaking the brightness that was Hyacinth.
She was not unlike the unguent she had sent him, healing. Soothing.
What a caretaker she was. It occurred to him how rare a woman Hyacinth was. She had been mistreated in her marriage. How brutally, he could not be certain yet, but that she had been abused by Southwick was undeniable. And yet, she still had the heart to care for her little