Page 96 of The Traitor
Milly rinsed and wrung out the cloth in the basin, muddying the water.
“You lied by omission then. I can assure you my sense of betrayal does not abate because you were lawyerly in your untruths. Why lie at all?”
This time, she wrapped the hot cloth around his arch.
“Most gentlemen would not burden their lady wives with such information.”
His heels were callused, something Milly had noted during evenings in the library. “You are not most gentlemen, Sebastian. The real reason, if you please. Did you think I would leave you?”
Would he have missed her, or been relieved at her absence? He was a reluctant husband, for all that his efforts to assure the succession had been enthusiastic.
As had hers.
“I wanted to spare you, wanted to preserve you from tossing and turning all night, offering desperate, useless prayers by the hour, choking down your morning tea while you waited for news. Ask Lady Freddy how agreeable such a course is, for she’s had to suffer it too many times in the past year.”
Under the guise of wrapping his clean foot in a dry cloth, Milly hugged her husband’s foot against her middle.
“You would have me believe your lying was a form of consideration, Sebastian, but earlier, you reminded me that I’ve lied too.” She used the basin again, needing to finish before the water cooled. “Give me the left one.”
“You were desperate,” Sebastian said. “You needed employment if you were to avoid your cousin’s schemes. I understand that.”
Milly started on the second foot, which, thankfully, was free of abrasions.
“Do you also understand that lying about mortal combat and lying about an ability to read well are not the same thing at all? You gave me a false promise that you would not duel, then deceived me again as to the nature of your business in Town. Had Alcorn not written that note, had I not been able to wrest a location from Their Graces, had the moon not been full…”
She scrubbed at his foot even when she’d removed all the mud.
“I’ve apologized, Milly, but I do not control who challenges me. How can I make you see that these men will not cease trying to redeem their honor by the only means available to them? This one I had beaten, that one deprived of water, MacHugh I drugged, another who was so fastidious was made to lie chained in his own—”
Milly stopped this recitation by virtue of wrapping her arms around her husband’s waist.
“You did not capture them. You did not wrest their uniforms from them. The war is over, and has been for some while. Those officers are all walking about as free men, and yet you are trapped in that miserable garrison. Do you know that a properly timed blow to the chest can stop the heart from beating?”
He held her, while Milly waited for him to say something, to say anything honest and true. She waited for him to tell her that he’d never wanted to marry her; he was weary of living; he had more duels scheduled for the very next week.
She felt his lips graze her forehead. “The water’s getting cold, Wife.”
Yes, it was. Milly rose and wrung the soiled cloth out with particular force.
“Did you even have an appointment planned with the solicitors?”
He bent to unwrap his right foot. “Of course, I did.”
He’d scheduled such an appointment, because the best lies were packaged in mundane truths, and he folded up the damp, clean flannel so very carefully lest Milly see that truth in his eyes.
“I’ll be meeting with the solicitors myself,” Milly said, moving toward the door. “And your presence will not be needed.”
He rose, looking pale, angry, hurt, and…damn him,dear.
“Take the professor with you, or Michael. Don’t attempt to puzzle through legal documents alone, and don’t sign anything you aren’t absolutely comfortable with or sure of.”
“I’ll take Aunt Freddy. You’d best tend to your bath. The water won’t be warm much longer.”
***
Milly had known exhaustion of the spirit often, when she could not face another day in the schoolroom, when Frieda’s temper was particularly short, when word of Martin’s stupid death had come and nobody had told her until after supper.
Exhaustion of the spirit could ease with time, good company, a few kind words, and rest. As she succumbed to slumber in the bed she’d yet to share with her husband, she said a prayer that exhaustion of the heart could heal as well.
