Page 94 of Lord Garson's Bride
“The devil they are.” His anger reached another level, the new quietness of his tone indicating just how furious he was. “You’ve told them about us?”
She knew he’d feel betrayed. “I needed help, and I couldn’t think of anyone else to turn to.”
“You could have turned to me, Jane,” he said, and the infinity of pain in his words sliced at her like razors.
She struggled to continue. “Fenella won’t gossip, you know that. She’s told Anthony I need a short rest from the social whirl.”
“He’ll think you’re bloody pregnant,” Hugh said sourly.
Which brought up another delicate, but essential matter. She’d rather discuss this when her husband was his even-tempered self. But she couldn’t think when that would be. Aftertoday, there was no hope of resurrecting the easy friendship that she’d cherished.
What a trail of destruction their marriage had wreaked. How she wished she’d said no when Hugh proposed. She almost had. She’d feared she ventured into a world of pitfalls beyond her imagining.
She’d been right.
Which was no consolation, when she stood here with her heart in jagged pieces. “I’m not pregnant.”
“I know.”
“Or at least I think I’m not.” She stiffened her spine, until she feared it must crack. “I’ll write and let you know.”
“Big of you.”
She ignored that. Right now she needed to concentrate on getting the words out, before she lost her nerve. “I promised you an heir.”
Impatience darkened his face. “Not very likely when we’re leading separate lives, is it?”
Stupidly she felt herself blush. “The Beeches isn’t far outside Winchester. It’s not an impossible distance from London.”
“You’re offering to let me keep my marital privileges?” His eyes flared, although she saw he remained suspicious of this sudden concession. “Damned sporting of you, Jane. In that case, stay here. That would make more sense.”
Jane shook her head. “No.” She straightened her shoulders and braced for more anger. “I mean…I mean that I’ll stay in Hampshire and lie with you once a month, until you plant a child in my womb.”
“I see.” The corrosive cynicism returned to his expression. “And if the baby’s a girl?”
What if it was always girls? What if there was no child at all? She shoved away her fears that this plan was bound to fail. “Then the arrangement continues until I have a son.”
He clearly also thought it was bound to fail. “This is madness.”
“Perhaps.” It was the best she could do, while keeping any chance of staying sane. She cheated Hugh of a wife. She couldn’t deprive him of the heir he desperately wanted, too.
His eyebrows arched in haughty disdain. “What about all that tomfoolery about loathing my company?”
She shuddered. This was the worst of it. She’d hoped she wouldn’t have to explain her intentions in so many words.
“I’m not planning a…seduction, Hugh. Your visits will be purely utilitarian.”
Jane saw the precise moment he understood. His eyes went glassy and dead, and he wrenched back as if she disgusted him.
It might be better if she did, she thought bleakly.
“I…see.”
She knew he did. And he’d never forgive her.
Hugh went on with corrosive bitterness. “You’re back to offering me what you offered me on our wedding night. No pleasure, no real connection, just a quick swiving to get the job done.”
She hid a wince at his frankness. “Yes.”
