Page 18 of A Gentleman's Wife

His voice held a firmness that Marianne interpreted as finality. Emotion burned in her throat, threatening to fill her eyes, so she shook her head.

“I can make whatever arrangements are necessary for my departure,” Marianne said, clenching her jaw to still her quivering lips.

But Thomas resecured his gentle grip on her hand, bringing his dark eyes to meet hers. “I’m grateful you could entrust me with the truth, and I hope to always retain that trust. But I meant what I said; I would never send you away. It will take some adjusting, to be sure, but if anything, it only reinforces my resolve to see that you are protected and cared for to the best of my ability.”

Impossible relief swept over her, and Marianne was unable to stop the tear that slipped over her cheek. “Even after I deceived you?”

He shook his head. “I’m sure I speak correctly when I say you likely had little input in this entire arrangement, so you cannot be at fault there.” Marianne nodded, feeling somewhat justified as he went on. “But we have already signed our marriage vows, and I have no intention of retracting them. We will simply learn more about each other as we go along. And you can instruct me, as you did with the cutlery and the carriage, how I can best support you, yes?”

Marianne pulled her hand from his reach to wipe away the second tear that escaped, and then she nodded in response.

“Besides, though I may not know what physical or emotional pain you have experienced in your life with your illness, I have felt mistreatment and heartbreak at the hands of someone I cared for, and I would hate to make someone else feel that same thing.”

Whatever understanding Marianne thought she’d had of Thomas, her entire perception of him changed in that moment. Her heart cared more for him more knowing this truth of his own pain. “I’m sorry you’ve had to suffer such things, Thomas. You deserve every kindness, too.”

He smiled at her use of his words. “Shall we go home?”

Marianne blinked at his sudden change of topic. “To Primrose House?”

“Yes, I think we’re done here. This wedding trip has exhausted us both, and I’d very much like to not worry on societal requirements right now. I’ll beg our excuses, and I know my friends will forgive us. Are you particularly wanting to stay for the wedding breakfast?”

“Not at all.”

“Then I’ll have Baxter leave our regards, and we’ll have Eliza ready your things so we can be gone before the party arrives. We’ll be back home to Primrose before sundown.”

It took a good deal of Marianne’s self-control not to audibly sigh. The efforts he went to for their privacy was enough to make her swoon. “As my husband wishes.”

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