He felt vaguely surprised by his own lack of interest. ‘I suppose it was.’
‘It still is. You said he was ready to sign the papers. We can’t fail now. We just need to get through tonight and then...’
‘And then?’ He raised an eyebrow as her voice trailed away.
‘Then we’ll both have fulfilled the terms of our agreement.’
He clenched his jaw. She was speaking as if the agreement was all that existed between them, as if their marriage were still just a business arrangement. Then again, with their relationship in such uncharted territory, he wasn’t quite sure how to proceed either. Not to mention that it wasn’t the only new experience she was dealing with. The faint stain of blood on the bedsheets was a reminder of that. Perhaps, after everything else that had happened the previous day, she was simply feeling overwhelmed. Or perhaps he’d been too rough. Perhaps he’d hurt or frightened her... The very idea made his heart clench.
He threw back the covers, reaching out to embrace her. ‘About last night...’
She took a definite step backwards. ‘I think it would be best if we don’t talk about it. We were tired and...distressed.’
‘Distressed?’
‘Yes.’ Her eyes flashed accusingly. ‘And you said that you didn’t want an heir!’
He stared at her in disbelief. Is that what she thought he’d been doing? ‘I wasn’t trying to get an heir, Ianthe.’
‘Oh.’ She bit her lip, twisting away from him evasively. ‘In that case, there’s no reason for us to be...together. It wasn’t part of the agreement.’
‘Forget the agreement! I don’t care about the blasted agreement!’
She shook her head, still refusing to look at him. ‘I can’t.’
‘Why not? I love you!’
He thought he heard a small sob as her body seemed to go completely rigid for a moment.
‘Ianthe?’
She didn’t answer, and he grasped her shoulders, wrenching her back round to face him.
‘What’s changed since last night?’
‘Nothing.’ She lifted her eyes up at that, her voice almost unnaturally calm suddenly. ‘Nothing’s changed.’
‘Then why...?’
‘Because you don’t know me. Not really. You haven’t had time to get to know me. It’s ridiculous to think that we...’ She pursed her lips as if she were trying to control herself. ‘It was a mistake. We should forget that it ever happened.’
‘I don’t want to forget it.’
‘Well, I do!’ She wrenched herself free from his arms with a sudden burst of anger. ‘We had—have—an agreement. If you’re really a gentleman then you ought to honour the original terms!’
‘But I’m not a gentleman, am I?’ He folded his arms, feeling as though she’d just driven a knife into his chest. ‘Maybe you don’t know me so well either.’
‘Maybe I don’t.’ She held his gaze unwaveringly before gesturing towards a neat pile of clothes on a chair. ‘Your things are dry and ready. I’ll meet you outside.’
She whirled around then, sprinting for the door without looking back, leaving him to simply stare after her, unable to move, scarcely able to breathe as a painful sense of rejection assailed him, just as vivid as it had been six years before when his mother had pushed him away for the last time.
He sank down on to the bed and put his head in his hands. How could he have been so stupid, walking headlong into the one trap he’d striven so hard to avoid? Somewhere between the moment she’d arrived at the shipyard yesterday and the moment he’d carried her to the bed, he’d fallen in love, or at least realised he had. As much as he’d claimed he wasn’t capable of love, deep down he’d known that the opposite was true. He wasn’t incapable, he was afraid. Afraid of the potential pain it could bring, the gut-wrenching pain of caring for someone who couldn’t, or wouldn’t, care for him back. And now what he’d always feared and expected would happen, had happened. Just like his parents, the woman he loved had rejected him, too. Because she preferred a business agreement—his agreement—to a real marriage with him. If the irony hadn’t been so horrible, he might have laughed.
He’d never regretted a business deal more in his life.
* * *
Two hours later, Robert stood on the mudflats, listening with one ear to a report of damage to the yard. The roof of the sail loft had been partially blown away, and four of the smaller colliers on the flats had tipped over, needing minor repairs, but overall they’d got away comparatively lightly. If only he could have said the same for himself.