Page 58 of Bound By her Earl

In fact, he was highly annoyed at the interruption (and not relieved or happy, not a bit) when his wife’s form passed by the open library door, her posture suggesting exhaustion. She brushed past the door before he could say anything, and then, before he could make up his mind to go after her (which he did not plan to do), she retreated into the doorway.

“There you are,” she said, like she’d been looking for him and not gallivanting off to her friend’s bedside.

Benedict reconsidered. Very well, that one had sounded unfair even in his head.

“Here I am,” he agreed evenly.

He watched as she crossed to the low settee across from him, the one that he never used because it was too short for a man of his height, and dropped into it with none of her usual grace. He declined to comment. He didn’t know what went on in birthing rooms—and, again, did noteverwant to know, not beyond the broad sketch of things—but apparently it was as exhausting for the witnesses as for the mother.

“Is Her Grace well?” he asked when Emily blinked at the fire for a few long moments. “And the babe?”

She turned to look at him with a faint air of surprise, like she’d forgotten he was even there. Flattering, that.

“Oh, yes,” she said with a distracted air. “Both. And the baby—she had a daughter. They’ve named her Grace.” Her tone was already unmistakably fond.

Benedict’s lips threatened to twitch in a frown. Not an heir, then. Though, judging by the way Hawkins looked at his wife, he’d not mind that overmuch and would likely look forward to trying for another.

Emily clearly saw his hastily suppressed reaction, for her absent air vanished, replaced by narrowed eyes. Her gaze flickered over his face for a moment, seeking something. Whatever it was, however, she apparently did not find it as she leaned back more heavily against her cushions, a defeated sigh leaving her lips.

He did not care for that, he found.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded, more aggression than concern.

Emily squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, like she was trying to block out the world.

“What are we doing wrong?” she asked on a sigh, her tone so, so tired.

“What?” he asked, baffled by this turn. She opened her eyes, her expression as exhausted as her voice had been, and spread her hands in a gesture of helplessness.

“I mean, really. Benedict. What do we plan to do here? We cannot mean to go on as we have been; it’s been less than two days, we’ve spend most of them apart, and we’ve already had a massive quarrel that likely terrified the staff. If we keep it up, one of us will have an apoplexy before the year is out.”

He should, he thought wryly, be glad she seemed to think that that was an unfavorable outcome. Marriage to him at least ranked higher than death.

“I don’t want to fight,” he said. It was the truest thing he could contribute.

It seemed, if Emily’s sagging shoulders were any indication, still not sufficient.

“Me neither,” she said. “At least that’s something we can agree upon. It’s as good a start as any.” A smile flickered across her face at the weak joke, and Benedict mirrored the expression. She sighed again and looked away before continuing, “If it’s truly a marriage of convenience you seek, I suppose I will see fit to provide it. After all, I should not want to ask for more than you are willing to give.”

Benedict thought there was some deeper meaning lingering beneath those words, but he couldn’t quite figure it out.

“But,” she went on, no doubt saving him from saying the wrong thing yet again, “you must at least offer me the benefit of the doubt, Benedict. Not every concession can come from my side.”

He frowned. “I can do that,” he said. That was obvious.

From the way Emily frowned back at him, she didnotthink it was obvious at all.

“Can you?” she asked. “Because… well, I’m not sure how else to say it, Benedict, but you really seem to not like women at all.”

He reared back like she’d lunged at him. “What on earth are you talking about? I like women just fine.”

Their activities the night prior hadn’t been advisable, but it should have at least proventhatmuch.

“Not that way,” she said, rolling her eyes, evidently detecting the less than innocent cant of his thoughts. “I meant more that you seem to not hold women in very high regard. You know, as people.”

“I—” He wanted to argue, but they had just agreed that they would try not to fight. And Emily didn’t look combative right now; that would have honestly been preferable. She just looked…sad.

“I respect women,” he said carefully. “I know my, ah, indecorous behavior leading to our betrothal was not perhaps the most indicative of this. But you cannot think, Emily, that I would ever shame you by carrying on thusly with another woman. I already said that I do not intend to pursue any affairs outside of our union, and I meant it.”

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