A few hours remained of the long, confusing and extraordinary night she’d just experienced.
Many years of happiness stretched ahead of her. She truly believed that.
But what of the fates of Madame Zirelli and Miss Madeleine Hardwicke? Their helplessness and their sorrow weighed heavily on Cressida’s shoulders and she wished she had the means to wave a magic wand to effect their future happiness.
But...didn’t she have the means to do just that?
Knowledge. She had knowledge and knowledge was power. Pushing back her shoulders, Cressida made a vow .
She would do what she could. She would do everything in her power to persuade Justin to exert his power to do what he could to mak
e things right.
Maybe, just maybe, Cressida thought with breathless excitement as she pinched color into her cheeks, she might be able to unite some unlikely forces and give the ton something to relly get excited over.
Maybe, just maybe, she could take the initiative, for once, and not only direct her own future on an onward loving course with her husband, but do something that would advance the happiness for two other deserving, hitherto helpless, woman.
Wouldn’t that be a something to celebrate?
Chapter 14
“Cressida?”
Justin, billiard cue in hand, jerked round as Cressida pushed open the double doors to the games room and
stepped inside the heavy double doors. A nervous tic pulled at the corner of his mouth as he regarded her through black eyes shadowed within cavernous sockets.
Cressida’s heart lurched. It looked like her poor darling had been pacing the house like a caged beast, tormented, since she’d apparently sided with Catherine all those hours ago.
But she’d not known, then, what she knew now .
She tried to banish her guilt with the knowledge that she was here with a very altered perspective.
And a very altered motivation.
“Justin, forgive me.” She took a few steps towards him, then stopped, regarding him more closely as he stared warily at her. There was a desperation about him that was so at odds with his usual sang !oid that struck Cressida like a blunt instrument. Justin had always seemed so in charge, able to ride out any storm.
And yet, her behaviour had clearly rocked him to the core, leaving him wounded and vulnerable.
She had done that. She had had the power to do that.
A power she’d abused.
“Justin, I know the truth. I know that everything you’ve told
me is the truth and I’m here to apologise.”
She didn’t move forward, waiting—perhaps?—for her husband
to come to her, enfold her in his arms and pour out his relief?
But of course, he didn’t do that—and it was hardly surprising he did not, for hadn’t Cressida led him a merry dance these last few weeks?
No, months.
Justin was in no position to know what Cressida wanted and so Cressida was going to have to tell him.
Or show him.