She struggled to hold her course. His coolness was unsettling. As he intended. “You don’t sleep here, do you?”
His smile broadened as though he enjoyed a grim private joke. “How wifely to enquire after my slumbers, my love.”
Sidonie didn’t wince at the sarcastic endearment. She’d expected resentment. So far, she’d got off lightly. He could have had her barred from the house. “Where do you sleep?”
He sipped his wine, his silvery eyes unwavering. She couldn’t read his expression and not only because of the uncertain candlelight. “I don’t sleep much at all.”
What could she say to that? She hadn’t slept much lately either. “Are you going to offer me a glass of wine?”
Over the miles from London, she’d sworn she’d remain stalwart no matter what he said or did. Thank heaven during the last week, the morning sickness that had dogged her so long had ebbed. She’d been such a feeble creature the day they married. No wonder Jonas had abandoned her. If she was strong, if she demanded what she wanted, Jonas couldn’t ignore her. She was his wife, she had rights.
Except now she was here, she didn’t feel nearly as unassailable. She’d forgotten how tall he was, how his presence commanded, how the merest sight of him set her heart beating so fast, she turned giddy with love.
“Of course. I endowed thee with all my worldly goods. That includes my claret.”
She bent her head. “Thank you.”
“Will you join me in the library?”
“Is there nowhere closer?”
“No,” he said shortly and prowled toward the stairs, assuming she’d follow.
Of course she’d follow. She wasn’t letting him out of her sight. He knew what she was up to. There was never the slightest chance he’d misinterpret her reason for encroaching on his exile. So far sardonic remarks kept her at bay. She had no doubt he’d hunt out sharper weapons if she assailed the stony ramparts protecting his emotions. She’d come prepared for the beast to rend her limb from limb.
Arriving so late, there had been a chance of surprising him in bed and an even remoter chance that nature would take its course. Providing nature meant he still wanted her. Her very skin ached for his touch, but perhaps he’d forgotten those radiant moments when they’d joined together so profoundly, she didn’t know where he ended and where she began. She swallowed to dislodge the inconvenient lump clogging her throat.
There was a couch in the library. And the desk. All was not yet lost.
In the library, Jonas poured Sidonie’s wine and waved her to a chair. The fire crackling in the hearth indicated he hadn’t retired for the evening. He’d already admitted sleep proved elusive. Despairingly she wished that confession of vulnerability made it a scrap more likely he’d listen to her.
He refilled his glass and wandered to the window to stare broodingly at the stormy sea and sky, lit sporadically with lightning. Sidonie sat and watched his profile, checking minute indications of temper. He looked tired and moody. Over the last days, he’d shored up his defenses. His anger was buried so deep, if she hadn’t known him so well, she wouldn’t have recognized it.
“Tell me why you’re here, Sidonie.” His voice held no trace of the familiar sardonic humor.
She set her untouched wine on a side table. She’d imagined they’d fence with words a little longer. She’d hoped they would. Once she made her play, if she failed, she had nowhere to go but back to London and life without Jonas. God help her, this was more frightening than offering herself to a stranger to save Roberta. The next few minutes threatened to shred her heart and pulverize her soul to ash.
She straightened in her chair, told herself to be brave, and stared directly at Jonas. “I want a real marriage. We can’t have that when you’re hunkered down here like a bear in a cave.”
To her surprise, he smiled faintly. “I see you’ve rediscovered your spirit since the wedding.”
She tilted her chin, although he didn’t look at her but across the blustery landscape. “I intend to fight for you, Jonas. For my sake. And for… our child.”
He took a sip of his wine. “Very laudable, my dear.”
She waited for more but he remained silent.
After a long pause, she frowned. “Is that all you have to say?”
He still didn’t look at her. “Yes, apart from wishing you a safe journey back to London in the morning.”
She flinched. “You’re cruel.”
“No. I merely reiterate what I said last time we were together.” His shoulders tensed as if he forced himself to continue. The betraying gesture bolstered her quailing courage. “I’m sorry you traveled so far and in such weather to hear it again. I will never live with you as your husband.”
“I don’t accept that.” Her hands fisted in her lap.
He shrugged. “You will.” He paused again. “Eventually.”