Page 11 of A Gentleman's Wife

Chapter Five

As the night had fallen, so had Thomas’s emotions. He’d spent a pleasant day with his wife, getting to know Marianne and introducing her to the tenants and village folks. She was mostly quiet, though she proved to carry on intelligent conversation, and seemed to deeply enjoy the beauty of the country around them. She did not speak of her hand or her family, but she seemed content to be with him, which made Thomas grow more comfortable with her.

But upon returning home from their day’s ride in the open carriage, he had letters waiting for him. From James and Henry, who had heard of Thomas’s nuptials and were sore to have missed it, but also because they had news of their own to report.

I should take a drive out to Primrose House and belt you in the jaw myself. I will not begin to tell you how the slight you have given Isabel has caused her great pain. She cares for you and considers you a friend, as do I. So to hear from a source other than yourself that you have not only married, but to someone other than Lady Finley, without warning or invitation, demands a detailed explanation and excessive groveling for forgiveness.

Impatiently waiting,

James Barrington, Duke of Norland

Thomas, what the devil have you done? Disappeared from London without a word only to have gossip spread that you’ve already gotten yourself married? You’re not the kind of man to need to marry a woman, if you understand my meaning, so I can’t imagine what kind of mess you’ve gotten yourself into. I would hope this has nothing to do with Lady Finley’s recent announcement of her engagement to that knob Slanton, but this hasty retreat is very unlike you and has us all concerned. You are still requested at my wedding next month at Claremont Hall, and we look forward to meeting your new bride. Please send word so we can know when to expect you.

Ever your friend,

Henry Godwin

Lady Finley was engaged.

Thomas took a sip of the amber liquor in his glass and stared into the fire that roared in the hearth before him. It was the only light that filled his study, which he alone occupied, and he preferred it that way. He did not desire company at that moment. His heart was in a tumult, and he needed to get it sorted before another day passed.

He had known this would come. It’s why he had urged grandfather to obtain the special license to marry quickly, without having to wait for the banns to be read. He could not have borne the looks of pity that would have undoubtedly been in everyone’s eyes, knowing he had unabashedly adored her only to have her engage herself to another. No, he found himself married first before her announcement, so he’d been spared that at least and had made it out with his head held high. He had obtained a wife who was decent and respectable by all counts, and he was pleased with that.

So why did his heart still pain him at the news? He was already a married man, and Lady Finley could not be more lost to him than she already was. He should not have longing thoughts for a woman who was not his wife and who would shortly be married to someone else. Nothing would ever come of it, he knew. He just wished to be done with her once and for all. How could he evict this aching love from his heart without the privilege of closure?

He took another sip of the drink and let it sit on his tongue before it burned down his throat. Thomas did not drink often, but he hoped it would help ease the weight he carried, somehow clear the muddled thoughts into something useful. Or perhaps it would only make his eyes heavy and his dreams black. He would welcome that too.

Standing from his chair, Thomas moved to his desk and opened a large drawer to pull out a small wooden box. Within it, he stored mementos. Letters he’d exchanged with Lady Finley, flowers picked by her hand, a ribbon that had escaped her hair. Things she’d intentionally left him, all without intention of saying yes when he’d fallen in love with her. He shouldn’t still care for her after she’d led him on so. He wanted to hate her, and he was upset with her, but his heart still hurt from the rejection, and more than just his pride. How could he let her go?

He picked up one of the letters, his fingers fiddling across the edges of the folded paper. Part of him wanted to open it again, read the contents, see how he’d misinterpreted her affectionate words. It had all begun so innocently, after they’d left the house party without proper goodbyes. She’d written to him about a business-related question, something to do with her father’s estate, he could hardly remember anymore, but it had slowly turned into something more. Mere words or lines of attraction and favor turned to flirtations and desires for more. Thomas never would have jeopardized her reputation by writing such things if he’d intended less than offering for her. And after all the time they’d spent together, going to dances and dinners, in public and in private, how could she then tell him no? Getting up his hopes for months only to dash them to pieces after he’d found the courage.

None of it mattered now. He was married and settled with a wife of his own, and Lady Finley would marry that damned Earl of Slanton. He was a miserable man, and Thomas pitied her to end up with him. There was no way she could be happy, but if she did not require a man of kindness or quality, rather only pursued a man of title, then perhaps she would find the contentment she sought.

And Thomas would have to pursue happiness of his own. A different future than he’d expected, and one without her, so perhaps a simpler life without the companion he’d hoped for. But then he shouldn’t want her anyway if she’d mistreated him so. He should find happiness without her too.

Thomas put down his drink, then emptying the contents of the box in his hand, he moved to the fireplace and tossed it all into the flickering fire. Every letter, every piece of his attachment to Lady Finley now burned and smoldered, disintegrating into ash. If she did not want him, he would overcome his desire for her. He would forget her… someday.

A knock sounded at his study door. “Come in.”

Collins appeared holding a candle. “Only checking to see if you require anything before you retire, sir.”

Thomas took a deep breath, thinking back to his life before the letters he’d received had brought him so low. “Yes, I did have one thing. I would like Mrs. Bamber to take the morning and spend it with Mrs. Ramsbury so they can discuss in detail her responsibilities as mistress of the house. Not just in passing, but with great patience and understanding. My wife has a crippled hand that will impede her from certain things. And be sure that the cook and kitchen servants know when preparing meals and platters that I’d like things prepared in smaller pieces from now on, so she will not have need of a knife. I want it understood by all servants and staff that she will not be belittled or slighted. Mrs. Ramsbury is to have every accommodation without even a whisper of mistreatment or disrespect.”

Collins straightened. “Of course. I would never allow such things in this house.”

Thomas sighed, pressing his fingers to his temples. “I know you wouldn’t, Collins. I’m sorry, I did not mean to imply… I just want her to be at ease here, have her every comfort and desire. I want her to be happy here.”

Even if I can’t offer her the love in my heart.

“I understand, sir. We will see to it. Please get some rest. It will not all seem so dreary in the morning.”

Thomas shook his head. He did want to sleep, but tomorrow would not be any easier.

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