Page 53 of A Bride for the Icy Duke
If she knew the truth behind their marriage, she would not want to continue it. And he couldn’t blame her.
How ironic that now, when reconciliation between them seemed impossible, he most wanted her. How terribly fitting that for the first time since Helena’s death, he could see himself loving another woman, and the truth about his past would make her hate him.
The best thing he could offer was to continue to give her his name, to let her live out her days in this house, and eventually provide her with children to keep her company. Otherwise, he would not interfere with her life.
That would be the best thing for her.
If only he could bear the thought of having her so near and yet so far…
Godwin came to join him, clapping him on the back with his usual joviality. “What do you think? I’ve outdone myself, eh?”
Alexander stared across the room at his wife like a lovelorn idiot, his head still aching. “When I asked for this as a favor, this was not what I had in mind.”
“Oh? Too loud? Too jolly for your liking?”
Alexander picked up a glass of wine and sipped at it. “I hope you entertain yourself with your nonsense.”
“I ought to entertainsomeone, at least!” Godwin guffawed, not in the least put down. Alexander was glad; there were few people on this earth prepared to put up with him when he was feeling especially crabby.
“Tell me, how is your fake engagement going?” he asked, nodding at Miss Parsons, who was, Alexander could admit, looking especially fine that evening.
“How’s yours?” his friend bit back.
“Have you accepted the inevitable and agreed to marry her yet?” he continued smoothly.
“Now who’s talking nonsense?”
Miss Parsons saw their attention and flicked out her fan with unnecessary vehemence, gesturing with it in a way that looked positively vulgar. Lydia saw the motion and giggled, her face flushing with genuine amusement.
At least she was having fun. He could endure this until then, he supposed.
“You know,” he commented, “I think there was a time when I would have enjoyed larger gatherings like this.”
“You always preferred harder entertainment,” Godwin shrugged. “You used to claim there was nothing so dull as drawing-room parties.”
“Well, I was right. And I can’t say my opinion has changed much.”
“Why the bad temper?” Godwin looked at his hands and sighed. “Still?”
“It’s been less than a week. I can’t expect such dependence to fade so soon.” He rolled his shoulders, wishing his body didn’t ache so much or that he wasn’t sweating so much. But taking off his coat in such company would be unthinkable. “I wish it would, though,” he muttered. “Forallour sakes.”
“And hers, I take it?”
“Every time we converse, I misstep.”
“Ah.” Godwin’s eyes gleamed with a kind of victory. “And you wish, do you not, that you could charm her?”
Alexander tried to send his friend an annoyed glance, but he wasn’t certain the expression got through. “I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to, old boy. I could see it all over your face. She has finally gotten through to you. And now you want to save the marriage.”
“An impossibility,” Alexander muttered, still watching Lydia and the effortless way she glided through the crowd, greeting all friends and acquaintances she’d known in London. “She wouldn’t want me if she knew everything.”
“Hard to know that without telling her.”
“Easy to know without the burden of telling her,” he countered. “If I chose to stay and make a go of it, I’d have to tell her everything. You know that. But if I were to leave, then she could continue to live in ignorance. And that would be preferable.”
Godwin turned to also watch Lydia, though he did keep glancing at Miss Parsons as he went. “Yes…” he said slowly. “I suppose so. But do you ever stop to wonder whatcouldbe if you let it?”
