He’d been gone for nearly two years and no one had sent me notice.” He swallowed against the lump in his throat. His eyes pricked, but he squeezed them shut, glad that Tilly was facing away from him.
“Wait, you received no notice of his death? That you had inherited the title?”
“Not until I arrived back in London. By then he’d been gone so long.”
“How did he die?” she asked, her voice nothing more than a whisper.
“Supposedly an accident while cleaning his pistol.”
Her body stiffened slightly. “You do not believe it was an accident?”
“No, I don’t. But I have no proof, so it doesn’t matter what I believe.” He’d intended to question Thomas about it on more than one occasion recently, but he wanted to wait until he had more information. He wasn’t even sure what he was looking for in particular, but he needed something more.
“Did you always want to be a soldier?”
“It is what second-born gentlemen tend to do. We are the spare, therefore we’re supposed to be expendable. But I survived and Roderick didn’t.” Just like he’d survived when so many others in India hadn’t.
“May I ask you a question?”
He felt himself stiffen. Suddenly tense, he rolled over onto his back. God, what if she prodded more about Roderick? Or worse, asked about his time as a soldier? Was he ready to share his deepest shame with her? The mistakes he’d made in the army. All the men he hadn’t been able to save. Maybe no one could have saved them. Maybe someone better than him, someone smarter, someone more decisive, would have been able to.
If he told her these things, she might well hate him. Not the playful hate that he was beginning to suspect had merely been a cover for an attraction she hadn’t wanted to feel, but true genuine hatred. He couldn’t stand the thought.
Instead she said the last thing he expected.
“What happens in six months if I’m not pregnant? Will you still let me leave?” She almost seemed to be holding her breath, but then she added, “After all, you are a viscount. You do need an heir.”
Suddenly hit with an image of Tilly round with his baby, he had to fight the urge to roll over and pull her fully against him once more. She mentioned wanting children, yet he hadn’t considered until now that he might get her pregnant. He had not thought children were for him.
Now, unable to handle the burst of longing he felt, he gave the answer he’d given his mother over and over during the past year, indeed what he’d told her once. “Actually, I don’t need an heir. Ulysses has two boys. The title is already secure.”
He felt her nod, but she didn’t speak again, leaving him unsure if that were the answer she wanted or not. After all, she wanted children, but she wanted her freedom from him in six months. Unfortunately, he was beginning to wonder if he would ever be free of her. Or even if he wanted to.
“Sleep, Tilly. We can talk more later.”
Sullivan awoke and found himself alone. Even during a daytime slumber, Tilly had felt it necessary to leave him. It mattered not how late he kept her up at night making love to her body until they both collapsed. She had always disappeared before he woke up. He’d never been a very solid sleeper until Tilly, and now she could leave his bed without his knowledge. It was disconcerting. He sat up and reached for his pocket watch on the side table. It was nearly time for dinner.
He forked his fingers through his hair and exhaled loudly. How could she be so responsive to his touch? Such a passionate and enthusiastic lover and then refuse to sleep in his bed?
Chapter Nine
Sullivan drove the barouche closer to the beach the following day, and he found himself feeling excitement on her behalf. He’d grown up knowing what the ocean looked and smelled and felt like. It was unfathomable to imagine never having even seen it from a distance. So to be the first person to introduce her to such a wonder gave him much pleasure. The carriage hit another rut in the road and Tilly grunted in response.
“This road is in abysmal condition,” she said.
“Indeed.” The muscles in his jaw tightened, the censure in her voice robbing him of some of the pleasure he’d felt just moments ago. His damned brother had made a mess of things. “I don’t know what Thomas