Page 52 of For a Lady's Fiery Heart
“I do not!” he said, his anger rising to meet hers. “How many times must I say it?” He closed the distance between them, and she turned away again. He could not see her face, but he could hear the tears coming, her voice shaking.
Caroline’s face grew red. “I saw the ring, James. Do not lie to me!” She threw up her hands, spinning on her heels. “You promised to be honest with me, that you did not want anything to come between us. Well, now youramouris breaking up the home I am trying to create with you, and you do not lift a finger to stop her!”
James was stunned. Of course, they had not been married for long, but he had never heard her raise her voice so. “What ring are you talking about?” James really had no idea. Were all women this crazy when they were jealous? He backed away as she turned and strode toward him, propelled by her jealousy.
“Thering,James. I assume the one you gave her when you proposed when you were seventeen?”
Her eyes went wide.
“Oh, yes, I heard all about the affair. And I saw a diamond ring hanging from a chain around Lady Beatrice’s neck. It looked like an engagement ring. Lady Beatrice was very evasive about it,” Caroline accused. She began to pace.
“I am not sure I can continue on like this, James.”
She placed her fingers on her temples and began to massage. Some of her anger seeped away, replaced by the immense hurt he could only imagine. How would he have felt if his wife had been involved with another man before she married him? What if she had been on the brink of engagement and her intended showed up in his home?
All the air seemed to get sucked out of his lungs at the idea of Caroline being fawned over and flirted with by another man. “What are you saying?” he asked warily.
Caroline sighed, trying to gain control of her emotions, no doubt. “Did you give her a diamond ring when you proposed?”
James screwed up his nose.
“I did not officially propose to her. And I never gave her a ring. It must be her great-grandmother’s ring.” James’s mind was reeling. He searched his memory. Yes, he had seen Beatrice wearing a ring on a chain shortly after her grandmother passed. Her mother must have given it to her around the same time. “Did she tell you I proposed to her?”
“She said her father forced her to break your engagement and accept Sir Gerald instead.”
Caroline’s anger had seemed to cool a bit. All that was left was the hollow shell of sadness. She turned and walked a ways down the path heading toward the rear of the garden. James followed her, glad the lanterns had been lit along the trail. At least he could still make out the outlines of her features and try to discern what was going on in her head.
He fell into step beside her.
“That is not true,” he replied.
“Lady Beatrice came to me and told me of her engagement to Sir Gerald before I had a chance to officially propose. I was heartbroken at the time. I will not lie to you about that. We were not formally engaged. It had just been expected and hoped for by both our families. Or so I thought. I do not believe her father tried to influence her decision in favour of Sir Gerald.”
He sighed heavily. His pain had been replaced by indifference long ago. However, it must feel as if it had just happened for Caroline.
“Well, be that as it may, Lady Beatrice still has feelings for you. That much is glaringly apparent,” Caroline said. She continued to walk, and he did his best to ascertain her mood from the tone of her voice. He could barely make out her face in the dim light cast by the lanterns now that they had travelled so far from the light shining through the houses’ windows.
“Why did you not stand up to your father and tell Lady Beatrice to go home? You must have sensed how this would affect me. How it would affect both of us.”
James faltered. He touched her arm, and she stopped to face him, albeit unwillingly. “I tried, Caroline. My father is not easy to stand up to,” he said, trying to make excuses for himself. It was not fair that she was holding him responsible. His father was right. He was still the head of the family, and it was his house.
Caroline again grew angry, trying to shake off his hand.
“Perhaps that is the problem, James. You live in that house, same as I. Although I have no authority except what your father allows. He cannot be blind to the fact that Lady Beatrice’s presence is causing a rift between us, and his first duty should be to you–not Lady Beatrice and her husband.”
She tried to walk away from him, but he gripped her arm and pulled her close. He wrapped his arms around her middle. James could not stand the distance growing between them.
“Please listen,” he said as she struggled against him. He bent and kissed her lips. She fought against him for a moment before relaxing against him. He felt the tears running down her cheeks as he touched her face, tenderly cupping it with his palm.
When he ended the kiss, she released a soft gasp and began sobbing. She rested her forehead against his chest, and he held her close. “I am sorry, Caroline. I do not want her here any more than you do.”
She gently pushed away from him, and he let her go this time. “Then do something, James,” she whispered furtively. “Are you a mouse or a man?”
Her words were biting and hitting a place in him that felt like a raw wound. He straightened. His pride hurt.
“I am a man. And I am your husband. This situation is causing a rift between us because no matter what I do, you do not seem to believe me. I have no feelings for Lady Beatrice. I have never betrayed your trust or given you a reason to question my loyalty. When will I prove myself to you? Or is that an impossible objective?”
She pointed a finger at her chest, walking back toward him. “Do not turn this on me. I am angry because you refuse to assert yourself with your father. You allow him to overrun you and dictate to you–a full-grown man. I am yourwife, James. What of my feelings in the arrangement?”
