wryly. “Forgive me, however, if I still cannot see the reason for such a visit. Does the marquess know where his errant wife has flown to?”
Because if Needham arrived with the intention of breaking his nose once more, Tom would fight back. He would be prepared. And it would not bloody well be pretty.
“You are angry with me still,” Nell observed, her countenance and tone both sad.
“I am not angry,” he countered curtly. “I feel nothing for you now, my lady. If you have come here with the intention of expiating or somehow absolving yourself, you need not have.”
“You ought to be furious with me,” she surprised him by saying. “Indeed, I remain quite furious with myself over the manner in which I treated you. I have no excuse save that I was confused and hurt by what had happened in my marriage. I made the wrong choices, and I understand that now. I only wish I had not dragged you into it. And yes, Needham knows where I have gone. He is not pleased by my presence here, needless to say. However, he understands. I wronged you grievously, Tom. I am sorry for that. I wanted to apologize once more and to tell you I hope that if our paths should cross that we can meet as friends.”
He felt neither anger toward her nor pain. Nor regret. All he felt was…calm. And peace, too. Because he had changed. He had learned from his own mistakes. All he could feel now was the hope that Nell had, too.
“The past is where it belongs,” he told her. “None of us is perfect, and I was not the right man for you. I see that now.”
Nell looked relieved. “Friends, Tom?”
He inclined his head. “Friends, Nell.”
But crying pax with the woman he had once wanted to make his wife only left him feeling strangely hollow. Because the only woman he wanted now had walked away from him a week ago, and though she was just next door, she was as out of reach as if she dwelled upon the moon.
His heart told him to go to her. To demand more of her time. To seduce her into admitting she could no more resist him than he could her.
His pride, however, refused to allow it.
He had already played the jilted fool once. He had no wish to do so a second time.
Far better, he thought, to be alone, just as he had always been.
Chapter Sixteen
“How much longer do you intend to hide from Sidmouth?” Lottie asked Hyacinth.
She frowned at her friend. “I am not hiding from Sidmouth. Nor am I hiding at all, in fact.”
Those were both blatant lies.
She was hiding.
Hiding from everyone.
Hiding an immense secret she had only just discovered that morning.
Lottie raised a brow. “You have not left your home in a fortnight. You cried off for the opera, Lady Siddon’s ball, Lord and Lady Maplethorpe’s masque. You told me you were too ill to go shopping, for heaven’s sake, which we both know is blasphemy.”
“I have been ill,” she ventured.
Dreadfully ill. Scarcely able to hold down her food for most of the day. More tired than she had ever been. And now, she knew the reason why. It was not the mysterious ailment she had feared was plaguing her.
“You do look pale.” Lottie frowned at her.
Although Hyacinth had been sending her friend notes to keep her apprised of her condition, she had not seen her since the day she had arrived for tea and Hyacinth had taken note of Tom’s lovely lady caller. Also the day she had realized she had fallen in love with Tom.
Unlike most of the days since, Hyacinth had felt well enough to venture from her chamber and accept a call today. Which was why she was dressed, her hair bound for the first time in days, sitting in her salon as if nothing in her world was amiss.
When in fact, everything had changed.
“Have you been eating properly?” her friend pressed without waiting for her to respond.
That was Lottie. A mother hen with a wild streak.
“I have scarcely been able to keep anything down save tea and toast,” she answered honestly.
Lottie frowned, her gaze searching. “You mean to say you are truly ill? Hyacinth, why did you not say so?”
“I did say so.” She could not keep the wry note from her voice. “Several times over the last fortnight. And again just now.”
Lottie waved a dismissive hand. “Yes, but I thought you were lying.”