Queen of my Hart - Emily Royal Page 0,63
and I were lovers before you and I married,” he began, “but on my honor, I have remained faithful to you…”
“No,” she said.
A needle pricked at his heart. Was he too late?
“Meggie, forgive me.”
She turned to face him. “No, Dexter,” she said. “If you wish to tell me what happened, you must look at me. Only then will I be able to decide whether you’re speaking the truth.”
He lifted his gaze to hers, and his body shivered with discomfort. He always believed that he could meet anyone’s gaze—intimidate them by looking into their eyes until they looked away. But, at this moment, his wife’s opinion was the only thing that mattered. To look into her eyes and see her disappointment—and her innocence—staring into his tainted soul…
It was going to be one of the most challenging acts of his life. Yet, if he was to deserve her, he had to do it.
He offered his hand. “May I?”
She nodded, and he took her little hand in his, caressing her palm with his thumb.
“On my life, Meggie, I swear I’ve been true to you. I have a past—we both do—but what matters is now. You are the only woman I want, Meggie. Now and forever.”
“But what I saw, what I heard…” She shook her head. “You cannot deny that.”
“No, I can’t,” he said. “When Elizabeth heard you were indisposed, she accosted me, and…” He hesitated, his cheeks warming with shame, but he owed her the truth. “She offered herself. I wanted to see how far she would humiliate herself to get what she wanted, how far her jealousy and her greed would take her.”
He shook his head. “It was wrong of me, I know, but it served a purpose, for she has shown her true colors.”
“I never doubted her true nature,” she said.
“I know, my love,” he replied. “Rest assured that from now on, you’ll never have to see her again—either of them.”
She lifted her brows in question.
“I sent them packing,” he said. “They may be your blood relations, but blood means nothing without respect or love. With luck, by the time we return to the house, they’ll be gone.”
“Return to the house?”
“Will you come back with me?”
“Is that an order?”
“No,” he said. “It’s a request. You’re free to do whatever you want, Meggie.”
He lifted his hand to the bruise on her face. Her eyes narrowed, but she did not flinch.
“My poor little lamb,” he said. “What hurt you’ve suffered—all because of me!”
“My face will heal.”
“Ah, but your heart.” He caressed her face with his fingertips, then lowered his hand to her breast. Her heartbeat thrummed faintly against his palm.
“Sometimes it’s the invisible injuries that give rise to the most lasting damage,” he said. “I would not have you suffer a broken heart.”
“Dexter…” She reached up, and he caught her hand and lifted it to his lips. With his other hand, he caressed her breast, and her nostrils flared. A taut little bud beaded against his palm.
“Dexter…”
He withdrew his hand. “Forgive me. I have no right.”
She curled her fingers round his hand, and he closed his eyes to temper his hope.
“Will you come home with me, Meggie?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
He pulled her into an embrace and placed a kiss on her forehead.
“I promise, Meggie, that I’ll do everything in my power to regain your trust.”
She said nothing.
He couldn’t expect her to trust him overnight, but the almost indistinguishable nod against his chest told him that he’d made the first step.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“I’ll be damned—you’ve had an eventful few days, haven’t you, Hart?”
Oliver Peyton held his glass out for a refill, and Dexter obliged.
“How goes it at the bank, Peyton?”
“I can spot your evasion tactics a mile off,” Oliver laughed. “All’s well. We have two new clients—a viscount and a baronet.”
Dexter wrinkled his nose.
“They’re not to be sneered at,” Oliver said, “especially the baronet. He’s a wealthy merchant who’s brought with him a substantial fortune.”
“Then you’ve done well. Perhaps I should send you straight back to London to continue the good work.”
“You’ve evicted enough guests for today, methinks.”
“Alderley’s only reaping his rewards,” Dexter said.
“Talking of rewards,” Oliver said, “shall we resume our match? I can set up the board after dinner.”
“I hardly think tonight’s the time for chess.”
“That’s only because I have you cornered. Come on, Hart—there are fifty guineas at stake. You wouldn’t begrudge me the opportunity to finally beat you at chess, would you? Besides, this has the makings of an epic game. It’s perfect for my book.”
“My wife will be joining us,” Dexter