Page 24 of Snowbound with the Earl
“Yes, let’s be seated.” He gestured to two chairs near the fire and waited as she took one. He had a larger chamber than she. He was an earl and the highest-ranking guest in attendance. He’d probably been given the best room. His bed was huge with four carved wooden posts reaching up into the vaulted ceiling. The coverlet was a heavy red damask, and matching draperies hung at the windows. She sank into the high-backed chair and forced herself to take a breath to calm her pounding heart. They were just talking. That was all...for the moment.
“First of all, I should apologize for not offering my condolences before. I should have written, but failing that, there’s no excuse for not expressing those sentiments when I first saw you—”
“Graham?”
He raised his brows.
“Please, don’t.” She swallowed her rising emotions. “I don’t want your condolences. I know you don’t care that Bonneville is dead.”
“I couldn’t care less about Bonneville. I’m expressing sympathy to you, for your loss.”
“I’m not grieving him,” she said. “And I don’t mean because a year has passed, and I’m allowed to wear colors now and attend social events. I never grieved him. I never loved him, nor did he love me. He married me because he needed an heir and a new roof on his family pile. He seemed pleased he at least got the roof.”
“I heard his nephew is the new viscount.”
“He is, and he’s as odious as Richard. Fortunately, my father negotiated a favorable marriage contract, and I have property and an income.”
“I’m surprised those weren’t contingent on your producing offspring.”
“Well, Bonneville’s first wife also produced no children, so there was a question as to culpability and, though unspoken, a concern that, at the age of sixty and in poor health, Bonneville might not be able to perform.” She felt heat rise to her cheeks, but she kept her gaze on Graham, unwilling to look down. She had nothing to be embarrassed about.
“And was he?” Graham asked. Apparently, he too had decided to put embarrassment aside and ask what he really wanted to know.
“Unfortunately, yes. For the first few years we were married, I was treated as a brood mare. Then, thank God, he lost interest, and finally, he was simply too ill to do his duty. At the end, he was resigned to his nephew inheriting.”
“I hope he didn’t blame you.”
She shook her head. “It wasn’t like that. He wanted an heir because it was his duty to produce one. As long as he did his duty that was all that mattered to him. He married two women, neither gave him an heir, despite his best efforts, and that was that. He didn’t care enough about me to blame me for not falling pregnant with his child.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Why? He never pretended to care. I was under no illusion that he did.”
“Then why marry him?”
She sighed. “You know why, Graham.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “You wanted to be a viscountess.”
She shook her head. “I never cared about that.”
“Your father cared. He cared a great deal. I used to think the one good that came from my cousins’ deaths was that your father would regret having refused me. I hope he’s kicking himself because if he’d agreed, you would have been a countess.”
“He’s never mentioned any regrets to me. I don’t know if he has them, but I know I do.”
Graham looked away. “You made your choice.”
“Does that mean I can’t regret it? Does that mean I didn’t spend every single minute of every single day wishing I had gone against my parents’ wishes and followed my heart?”
Graham’s expression was stony. “Am I supposed to pity you?”
“No.”
“I begged you, Noelle.” His expression didn’t change, but his voice held a tremor. “I bloody pleaded with you. I have never begged anyone for anything, but for you, I got down on my knees, and I begged.”
“I know.” Her eyes stung with unshed tears. She hadn’t known she had any tears left to shed over losing Graham. “It killed me to refuse you.”
“It killed me to watch you walk away. For months I thought I’d never be able to take a deep breath again. Every time I closed my eyes at night, I imagined you in his bed, his gnarled old hands on you, his thin, papery lips on yours.”
