her. But not the real her, not the Tilly that was an accomplished and skilled member of the Ladies of Virtue.
The tears flowed freely down her cheeks but there was no reason to try to swipe them away. They’d merely be replaced by new ones.
She’d been a fool and fallen in love with her husband. And he had betrayed her. Broken her heart. She wasn’t a stranger to the pain; she’d been hurt before, and she knew she could survive. Still, she would endure this as she’d done every other disappointment her life had given her.
Sullivan’s words replayed in her mind… Please let me know should you find yourself with child. She could be carrying his baby right now. The thought was simultaneously thrilling and terrifying. Would he make her raise their child alone?
More than likely, though, he’d force her to return to the countryside and he’d keep her inside until the baby was born, then he’d smother their child in protection.
…
It was for the best.
He repeated that in his head over and over as the carriage rolled out of London and hours later when it drove onto the long winding drive of his country estate. This was the right decision. There was nothing he could do to make her happy. She’d never understand what he’d done and why he’d done it. She’d never willingly walk away from the Ladies of Virtue.
And even without his bargain with Lady X, he couldn’t endure Tilly continuing with the group. He’d only wait every day for the inevitable. For when she was injured or killed. Just like everyone else in his life.
He had known he wasn’t right for marriage and these last few weeks had proven that. He couldn’t regret saving her from that broken-down carriage—the moment that led them to wed—but he wondered on occasion what would have happened if he hadn’t stopped. Would her driver have returned with a solution and brought her to safety unscathed?
Doubtful. She’d ruined her reputation when she’d gotten into that carriage alone. And the mere thought of any other gentleman coming along to rescue her made Sullivan want to hit something. No other man would ever put his hands on Tilly.
She belonged to him.
But she no longer wanted him. After making his way into his study he poured himself a drink and fell back onto the leather sofa. He might as well become better accustomed to his new life in the countryside.
…
She’d been alone in London for a couple of days, and all she wanted to do was hide away in her room and sleep. But that would solve nothing. This was her new life. She was a married woman but lived separately from her husband. It wasn’t all that uncommon in Society.
They were not partners. They were not lovers. They were merely two people who shared part of the same name. They didn’t even have the same address.
No, Sullivan had left her. Had he not, though, she would have left him. Even without his blatant betrayal, they were at an impasse. He could not accept her, not all of her, and she refused to bend to his will.
The worst part, she supposed, was that she’d finally thought they’d come together as a real couple. That they were going to eventually be a love match the same as her friends had with their husbands. She’d had hopes that she was one of the lucky ones who had found a man who adored her.
But his parting words had explained it all. He’d slept with her merely in hopes of creating an heir. Did that mean that if she wasn’t pregnant he’d come to her bed again until she was? Would one child be enough? Or was he simply done with her regardless of the outcome of their beachside honeymoon?
He’d been lying to her from the beginning. Was that the only letter he’d received from Lady X? Was this ultimately why he’d married her, because he’d needed her as a bargaining chip to get evidence against his brother?
She shoved all those thoughts away as she entered the meeting parlor at Lady Somersby’s townhome. Thankfully, she need not worry about tears as she’d already cried her eyes dry in the last twenty-four hours. Several other members were already seated, but none of her closest friends. She partly wished they wouldn’t come today. That she wouldn’t have to see them and admit that she’d failed at being a wife. They’d know the truth eventually, but today seemed too soon.
Perhaps she