to her hands. It was so hard being strong. When her sister stood up for herself nobody challenged – well sometimes Wulf did, but the glances that passed between them placed the game on a whole different level. That was not the case with Tristan. He could stare right at her and still not see her, while she could see him even when her eyes were closed.
“I repeat myself.” He made no move. “Does it matter if I do not care to explain?”
“Of course not. I am only your wife. Why should you explain to me why I couldn’t meet your mother? You have not taken the time to explain anything else.” Marguerite rose from her chair, holding her spine in the perfect straightness her mother had spent years trying to imbue. She glided towards the door. “If you will excuse me, I will dress for dinner. Will you be joining me this evening?”
“I think not. I promised Lord Langdon I’d visit before dropping by the Winchester’s ball. I trust I will see you there.”
Marguerite paused in the doorway. Her first night in society and he was not even going to escort her? She stared into the hallway. “I would rather not attend alone. Besides, I am rather tired and thought I would stay at home this evening.
“You are the Marchioness of Wimberley. Why would you need accompaniment?”
“I merely do not wish to attend my first ball as a married woman on my own. Does that surprise you?”
“Look at me.”
She slowly turned and faced her husband. It still seemed odd to think of him in such a fashion. She knew him less well now than she had a year ago. Still, when their gazes locked she felt that tension, that inability to breathe. It felt as if an invisible force bound her and pulled her forward. “What do you want?”
He paused, his eyes darkening. He stepped forward, his lips parted. There was a second of absolute stillness. She could feel the beat of both their hearts. Then he turned.
“I am sorry if I have not adequately provided for your needs. I had thought you would have enjoyed the outing. I am sorry that I had already made my own plans for the evening. It is not unusual for a wife to attend events without her husband.”
She shook her head trying to clear the dizziness of that frozen second. “I cannot believe that is true of my first outing in society.”
He looked nonplussed for a moment, but then recovered. “We will introduce you formally later, for now the Winchesters are dear friends and they will understand.”
“It does not really matter,” Marguerite answered. “I am simply fatigued and have decided not to attend.”
“It is your first London ball. Does it not pique your interest?”
“I am tired.”
“And if I wish you to go?”
She would never understand this man. He paid almost no attention to her after their wedding day other to display some displeasure that she had not hurried off to the country unaccompanied. He stiffened up and shifted uncomfortably whenever she drew near and now he was upset that she didn’t want to attend a ball, unaccompanied.
“Surely, there will be other balls for me to attend. In fact, I believe there are invitations to at least six sitting on my writing table.”
“I wish you to attend this one. Once your condition begins to show you will not be so free in society.”
“Then will you accompany me?”
“I had planned on joining you at the musicale you are attending tomorrow. I do not believe we need to live in each other’s pockets. I am sure to see you at the ball, regardless.”
She really did feel tired. It was true that her first refusal had been based solely on the desire not to appear at her first dance alone. No matter what Tristan said, even with Lady Smythe-Burke for support it was sure to cause comment. Married four days and her husband could not even be bothered to share a coach. It stung.
She stepped towards him, lay a hand gently upon his coat. She could feel his heat through the heavy fabric, she let her fingers rub along the heavy velvet. “Would it really be such trouble to come with me? I know it is silly, but I would feel more comfortable in your presence.” It felt so good to make actual physical contact. She stroked again, pretending she was blind and could see only with her fingers.
He pulled back from her touch. He grimaced,