Page 82 of The Lover's Eye
Even as the ugly thought entered her mind, she beat her fist into her mattress.She was wrong.It was wrong to feel this way.Giles had a history, yes, but he had never denied that.It did not make their marriage less.She realized then, in a sobering rush of truth, why her chest felt like it was splitting open.
Giles was not trusting her with all of himself.While Isobel had laid herself bare to him and fully fallen in love, Giles had been locking things away.
The blue room.A lock of hair.And, worst of all, a piece of his heart.He did not trust her with all of himself, and she ached to know him, to help ease his pain.
What was it she had said, when they lay tangled and breathless that first night together?
I am all yours.
She realized now that he had never said it back.
28
When Giles entered his library, he was still wearing the traces of a smile—as well as the remaining evidence that he’d interrupted his wife’s bath.Finch’s obsidian eyes drifted to his water spattered front as soon as he crossed the threshold.
“I would like to make this a quick business, Finch.I’ve got other things I’d like to do this evening.”
“Yes, my lord,” Finch said, following Giles to his desk.
“Is this all of it?”Giles asked, flipping through the correspondence and papers awaiting him.
“All of the business matters, yes, but there is something else, my lord.Something I did not wish to mention in front of the lady.”
Giles raised a dark brow.“That’sher ladyshipto you, Finch.What secretive affairs could there possibly be?”
“The reverend is coming to see you at eight.”
Giles’s hand connected with the table in a forceful smack.“Why the devil would you agree to such a meeting without first coming to me?Need I remind you I’ve travelled sixty miles today?”
“Yes, my lord, but he has come to Cambo House every day since you have been gone.I believe he thought to see you at Miss Gouldsmith’s funeral.”
“It would have been stranger for me to have been in attendance than not,” Giles growled.“I am a married man, and no one should expect me to let my wife travel alone.”
“He wishes to return a certain necklace to you, I believe.”
Giles sighed heavily, raising a hand to his temple.“Finch, do not ever let this happen again.I do not give a wit how good a friend Gouldsmith is to you; it is unacceptable for you to make such additions to my calendar without consulting me first.”
“Yes, my lord.I do apologize.”
Giles stared into the recalcitrant black eyes, and their pale, white-haired setting.If remorse lay there, he could not find it.He recalled Finch’s ambiguous interaction with Isobel which had unsettled her so, and figured no better time would arise to address it.
“Oh, and Finch?Do not ever speak of Aurelia to my wife.”
“I have not done—”
His voice went gelid, each syllable gutting.“Not so much as a hint.”
The butler nodded.
Giles made quick work of the estate matters, and Finch returned to announce Reverend Gouldsmith’s arrival just as the clock began chiming eight.Giles wanted to turn the vicar away; he knew he possessed the authority to do so.Yet the impulse seemed counterintuitive.He needed to confront the man’s concerns directly, just as he’d done with the inquest.Each matter settled was a step further ahead, toward the future.
Reverend Gouldsmith entered the library with his hands tucked deep into his black pockets.His thin hair was wind rumpled, and a reddish swag shadowed the skin beneath his eyes.Giles did feel sympathy for him, just not in the way everyone assumed.He rose to greet his guest.
“Thank you for agreeing to see me,” the reverend said.“I’ll not trouble you long.”
“I trust all went well with the funeral proceedings?”
“Yes, yes, I just cannot believe the Lord has taken her so soon.I heard you were in Cumberland with your bride?”
