Page 92 of Lord Garson's Bride
His face contorted. “Why?” he asked savagely. “If I can bear it, why can’t you?”
His bitterness made her want to sink into the floor. “Hugh…”
But what could she say? They were trapped in mutual misery, both stuck with inconvenient, immovable loves that would sour the rest of their days.
Breathing unsteadily, he swung away to flatten his hands on the desk. He hunched his shoulders and hung his ruffled dark head. It broke her heart to see him looking so defeated. Unthinking she stepped forward to offer comfort, but stopped before she touched him.
“Jane, I’m sorry this has happened.” His voice was so deep, it vibrated in her bones.
“So am I.” She wished to heaven she could change. There was no point wishing Hugh would. This fraught interview demonstrated that he was as bewitched as ever.
A weighty silence crashed down. Eventually he raised his head and turned to face her. “We must go on.”
She shook her head. After seeing Fenella, she’d reached some painful decisions. Confessing her feelings to Hugh was only the beginning, and she suspected far from the hardest part.
“I can’t live like this.”
He jerked back as if she’d hit him, and she saw him finally turn his mind to what these weeks had been like for her. “I’m sorry.”
“You keep saying that.”
“What else can I say?”
I love you, Jane.She shoved aside the futile wish. “I’ve put you in an impossible position.”
“I’ll do my best not to hurt you.”
“That will hurt me more than carelessness,” she said sharply. “We can’t spend every minute guarding our words and actions.”
“Then what do you suggest?” Impatience lengthened his mouth. “You seem to forget that we’re tied together for life.”
Her turn to wince. He made that sound like a death sentence—which she supposed it was. It was certainly death to anything that felt like gladness or hope. “I don’t forget,” she said flatly. “I suggest…a separation.”
He swore on a deep growl. “By God almighty, you won’t leave me.”
She’d known he wouldn’t like her idea. If only because once again, he’d be caught up in a scandal. London’s most famous rejected suitor suffered another rejection, this time from his wife. Any man’s pride would revolt at the prospect.
“We can arrange it so we avoid gossip.” She paused. Since arriving in London, she’d come to know this world he inhabited better than that. “Or mostly.”
“Good Lord, girl, I don’t give a rat’s arse about talk.” A muscle jerked in his cheek. “Let the rattlepates wag their tongues into the next century. I only care that you don’t want to stay with me.”
She didn’t believe him, but she appreciated his attempt to save her pride, if not his own. “I’ll retire to the country. That’s nothing noteworthy. Plenty of men come to London without their wives.”
“Do they indeed?” His voice struck her like a whip. “And what the devil do you do when I go home to Beardsley? Hare back to London like we’re playing some stupid children’s game?”
She bore up under his anger. After all, from his point of view, she’d spoiled everything. He must want to strangle her. Worse, the news of her love struck him completely unprepared, while she’d had time to winnow their limited choices.
“I won’t be at Beardsley Hall.” The thought of living somewhere redolent of Hugh’s presence, even when he wasn’t there, made her stomach heave.
“So where are you going? To Susan? To Felix?”
“After our last quarrel, I’m not sure Susan would have me. And the last thing Felix wants is his cousin moving back to the estate she once ran.”
“You seem to be out of options, don’t you?” Given he so rarely used sarcasm, this cut to the quick. “You’ll have to stay with me, much as you despise the idea.”
“Hugh, you’ll be better off if I leave you.” She struggled to steady her voice. “Think about it. Life’s been bad enough these last weeks. It will only get worse. Already, what’s happening between us is breaking my heart and driving you to distraction.”
Tears edged Jane’s shaky inhalation. Last night when she’d rehearsed this scene in her mind, everything had proceeded much more smoothly. She’d laid out her position, and Hugh had responded like the reasonable man he was. If he said he couldn’t love her, they’d calmly and sensibly discuss a divided future.
