Georgiana frowned. Though she didn’t like to think so, maybe she would have. When they’d married, she’d had no occupation for herself, aside from helping keep her father’s records. What had she expected Thom to do? She’d wanted him to stay near to their home. But work was scarce, and staying close to home wasn’t always an option for a laboring man.
It would be now. Her shipping interests earned enough to support them both. Thom could work anywhere he liked—or not work at all, if that was what he wanted.
And despite all the hurt of the past four years, a part of her was suddenly glad for every bit of pain. His absence had turned her into a woman who wouldn’t ask her husband when he would support her.
“Did I do that to you?” His words were low and rough. “Did I make you watch at the windows, with a part of you gone?”
She shook her head. “I wouldn’t let myself. I kept myself occupied. I made a business.”
“Did you?” Admiration tinged his deep voice.
“Yes.” Lightly, she traced her fingers down the center of his chest. “And it’s partially yours. For years, my father had been selling whale oil to men who turned around and made a fortune trading it with the Horde. So I took the money you sent and used it to pay a crew to sail my father’s ship to Morocco and trade directly. I might have lost everything. But I was lucky. I made enough to buy more vessels, though I don’t take so many risks now. Primarily just shipping cargo around the North Sea.”
“That’s good, Georgie. I’m glad you did well. But I’m sorry that you had to. I should have done better.”
The sudden bleakness of his expression ripped at her heart. “No, Thom. It was good of you to want to, to try to. But you’re not the only one in this marriage who is responsible for my happiness and well-being. Or for yours.”
He gave a slight nod. Not of agreement, she saw, but the sort of nod someone gave when they didn’t believe something, yet they didn’t want to argue, and there wasn’t anything left for them to say. Despite her words, he still thought that he’d failed as a husband.
She would convince him otherwise. But she needed to know how to do it, and first learn more about this man she’d married. Not by assuming, but by asking.
“Was it truly such a huge difference, Thom, when the tower came down? In everything you thought and felt?”
He hesitated for a long second, then his throat worked and he said, “Like coming out of the fog into bright sun.”
“But that’s a good thing.” Though the thickness of his voice and that hesitation made her wonder. “Isn’t it?”
“It is. Now.”
“But not then?”
“It was then. But it was all at once. All these things I never felt, all at once. Fear. Rage. Everything. I went mad with them.”
She couldn’t imagine it. Not her calm, ordered husband. But perhaps that explained why he was so controlled now. “Did being that way frighten you?”
“Yes. I was more like an animal than a man. I wanted to be a man again. The things I did, Georgie . . .” Voice strained into nothing, he shook his head.
Her heart ached with every painful word. Talking about this was clearly difficult for him. She could barely make herself ask more. But she needed to know. How could he ever think he wasn’t a man? “What sort of things?”
“Killing the men trying to put us down. Rutting.”
Rutting? Did he mean . . . “With women?”
“Not just. Men, too.”
“Oh.” Georgiana didn’t know what to say. That was completely outside her experience, except as whispers and jokes. But Thom didn’t seem to think one or the other any different—only his lack of control seemed to bother him. So that would be her only concern, too. “You did that during the frenzies, too?”
“It was the same. Though the tower made us feel it, then. But after it came down, that need was overwhelming in the same way. I was still trying to get ahold of myself. And all around me, others were trying to do the same. Just a look or a touch could set us off, and we’d f**k in a street.” His jaw clenched. “I’m sorry, Georgie. I shouldn’t have said.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for. I wanted to know, Thom.” Her heart hurting, she stroked her fingers down his beard. Some of what he said, the way he said it—all rough and shocking, but so had his life been. “You weren’t like that with me.”
“I made myself control it. I didn’t want to hurt you. Back then, I only cared about what I felt. Getting into someone and spending inside them. I didn’t want to be an animal with you.” He met her eyes, and the torment she saw in his almost ripped her open. “But it’s still in me. All of it’s still in me, Georgie.”
“Oh, Thom. If feeling more than you can bear and wanting someone makes you an animal, then I am one, too.” She leaned over him, her fingers sliding into his thick hair. “But you’re a man. The finest I know.”
Without waiting for his answer, Georgiana bent her head. Her lips pressed to his. She felt the sharp catch of breath, but that was all. He didn’t move. Still controlling himself.
He didn’t need to, not with her. But perhaps she would never persuade him with words alone.