Page 35 of The Viscount's Diamond Bride
“Forgive me, Ursula,” Graham gasped, smoothing his shirt down with a shaking hand. “This is not right. I… I cannot do this.”
Chapter Twelve
“I was never afraid of failure; for I would sooner fail than not be among the greatest.”– John Keats
Ursula struggled into a sitting position, eyes wide. She felt as though her breath kept catching in her throat. The brilliant, blinding sensation she had begun to experience was retreating quickly. She was suddenly conscious that her night gown was tucked up around her knees and hastily yanked it down again.
“I… I don’t understand,” she stammered. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No! No, Ursula, you did not. You are blameless. The fault here is mine.” Graham let out a shuddering breath, passing a hand over his face. “I cannot do this.”
“Oh,” Ursula whispered. “I… I have heard whispers of this, that some men are not able to… I mean, they can’t…”
“What? No!”
“I don’t mind,” she assured him hastily. “You cannot help it, and…”
He held out his hands, giving a nervous chuckle. “I… Icanperform my marital duties, Ursula. I can, but I will not. That is what I meant to say.”
Ursula flinched. “Oh. I see. Well, of course I should not like to pressure you. Whatever I did wrong, I…”
“You did nothing wrong,” Graham assured her once again. “I simply remembered… somebody. It was a rather powerful memory, and I…” he trailed off, passing a hand through his hair, and heaved a sigh. “It is rather hard to explain.”
Ursula swallowed hard, working up the courage to speak.
“Were you ever in love, Graham?”
He blinked, eyes widening. “What a question!”
“That is not an answer.”
He let out a long sigh. “Very well, I suppose you have the right to know that I was once very much in love, although it came to nothing. Her name was Jane.”
“I see. Did this Jane look anything like me?”
He blinked at her, baffled. “No, not at all. Ursula, please believe that this has nothing to do with you. I just believe that perhaps it is not such a good idea, not now at least.”
“Oh,” she said flatly. “I see.”
He darted forward, pressing a kiss to her forehead, and backed away.
“We are both tired,” he said, with the unwavering conviction of a gentleman who does not intend to be corrected. “We barelyknow each other, and this is our first night as a wedded couple. However, it will not be our last. I shall see you in the morning, Ursula. Sleep well.”
He did not await her reply, but turned abruptly on his heel and vacated the room with haste. The door closed firmly behind him as he departed.
Ursula sat there for a long moment, reeling in disbelief.
After the moment had passed, the numbness and shock faded away, leaving Ursula to face a nauseating wave of humiliation.
He rejected me. He doesn’t want me. He tried to force himself to… to… but it wasn’t enough.
This Jane, whoever she is, holds his heart.
Ursula did not often grapple with humiliation. Mama had coached her thoroughly before she was sent out into Society. There had been etiquette lessons, scenarios to work through, finishing schools, practise runs, and so on. She had beenprepared. And once she did enter into Society, she was sufficiently cautious and beautiful to avoid censure over either her manners or her looks. She was lucky, and she knew this.
In short, she had never encountered a rejection of this magnitude. What woman would? Surely every matrimony was consummated in an ordinary manner. Why was her husband so repulsed by her?
And then he kissed me on the forehead, like a child.
