“Suspecting my father would make a fuss, I had the footman load my luggage into your carriage shortly after you arrived.” Nothing would stop her leaving with Benedict today.
A look of admiration and camaraderie passed between them. “Then fetch your pelisse and meet me outside.”
She didn’t need to ask what he intended to do. He marched towards the study like Satan’s servant ready to unleash fire, brimstone and eternal damnation on the two unsuspecting occupants. Cassandra hurried into the hall as Benedict burst into the study, almost taking the door off its hinges.
“How dare you!” he roared. “How dare you humiliate my wife on our wedding day. Everyone heard your vile diatribe. Tregarth should have put you on your arse long ago. But I swear, do anything to ridicule her again, speak distastefully of our marriage, and I shall have no qualms in beating you to a bloody pulp.”
Awestruck, Cassandra stood and watched her husband berate her father. If only he’d spoken with such courage and determination years ago. How different their lives might have been.
Benedict did not wait for a response. He marched towards her, captured her hand and drew her to the front door. “Forget your pelisse. Buy a new one. Buy whatever you need.”
They sat in silence as the carriage covered the mile journey to Jermyn Street. To Benedict’s home. The place where he had thrown wild parties and entertained his demimonde friends. Anxiety reared its head again. They were from different worlds. They were more different now than ever before. It was as if they stood on opposite sides of a river bank, resentment flowing between them.
Anger still infused his tone when he introduced her to his servants—their servants now. And while they greeted her with the polite respectfulness expected, she wondered what scandalous things they had witnessed during their service. What did the staff really think of their master?
“I live modestly here,” Benedict said, his body stiff and tense as he escorted her upstairs. “Meet with Mrs Ra
mpling and make whatever changes you feel appropriate. Hire more staff if you think it necessary. You’re free to do as you please. I’m not a power-hungry lord who gets pleasure from controlling his wife.”
Anger, she could tolerate. This coldness, this distance he placed between them, left a cavernous hole in her heart. It was as if they were strangers forced to cohabit. The more he spoke, the more the crippling sense of loneliness took hold. She was wrong to expect anything else, but if they were ever to find happiness they had mountains to climb.
“I prefer to discuss any suggestions with you and come to a mutual decision.” She swallowed down her nerves as he directed her to a bedchamber left of the landing. “Perhaps we might set aside some time each day for important discussions.” A time where they might work to heal the wounds of the past.
Suspicion flashed in his eyes as he cast her a sidelong glance. “We shall dine together each evening. That should afford time to deal with household matters.”
Her resolve almost cracked at his icy reply. It shattered into a million pieces when he led her into the bedchamber and she realised she would be sleeping there alone.
“The same applies here,” he said, gesturing to the room decorated in sage green. “Speak to Mrs Rampling about ordering new curtains. Perhaps you would prefer a more feminine scheme. There’s an escritoire in another chamber. Have a footman move it in here should you wish a private place to attend to your correspondence.”
Why would she need privacy? What would she have to hide from her husband? Surely he didn’t mean for her to seek affection outside of their marriage, write secrets notes to a lover?
“Strange,” she said, laughing lightly else she might cry, “I took you for a man who slept in the same bed as his wife.” She remembered the passionate embraces, the soul-deep kisses that curled her toes.
His head shot in her direction. “When I’m in love with a woman, I give everything of myself. You know that.”
“And when you’re not, you prefer to maintain a certain distance.”
“Indeed.”
Was she the only person who’d hurt him? Had there been someone else he’d cared for just as deeply? “Have you loved anyone else since me?” She regretted asking almost immediately.
His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat, and he swallowed numerous times. “No. No one else. I’m wiser now than I was then.”
“I’m sorry.” She wanted to reveal all the loving words buried deep in her heart, but she had locked them away, secured by so many iron chains she wouldn’t know how to unravel them. “Sorry for everything that happened between us.”
“Pay it no mind. It’s unhealthy to live in the past.”
A tense silence descended.
He inclined his head and moved towards the door.
“Wait!” Her tone rang of an inner desperation. “I never thought I would ask such a blatant question, but … but do you intend to come to my room tonight?” While the thought of joining him in bed set her body aflame, she couldn’t love him knowing he didn’t want her.
“It’s unwise to complicate matters further.” A pained expression marred his face. “Cassandra, I have no notion how we will move forward, how we might nurture a friendship let alone deal with anything more profound.”
The man was a walking conundrum. His words and gestures were sometimes contradictory. He could protect her when others attacked but couldn’t love her. And yet she had untold respect for his wisdom in this time of uncertainty.
“Perhaps there is a way forward,” she said, knowing they had to find a distraction. “I want to find out who drugged me and played God with my life. I want to punish the person who used you to achieve his goal, the person who forced you to partake in this debacle.”