Page 65 of Pursuing Mr. Mattingly

Chapter Twenty

Sophia’s nerves crawled and knots of worry pulled in her belly as she tugged Oliver onto the quilt beside her. Never in her life had she been so anxious regarding one of her husbands, but this time was different.

She had changed.

Life had changed.

Expectations had changed.

Now they needed to manage them—together—and if ever there was a time when she should pursue Mr. Mattingly, it was now.

I have to fix this

“I apologize for how I’ve handled things these past couple of days,” she said by way of introducing the subject. She smoothed one hand over the raspberry pink silk gown and hoped that him seeing her in the frock she’d worn for their wedding would help to win her argument. “The news was certainly frightening in a different way than I’d become accustomed to.” It was never easy admitting when one was wrong, but for this man, for their union, she would. Twenty times over if need be. “But when Hannah said you intended to leave, that you’d packed a bag… Even if it was my fault that you were doing so…”

“You reacted with fear.” Understanding reflected in those stormy eyes of his. “It’s what you felt when the village physician said there was nothing wrong with your heart. Everything you’d previously known came tumbling down.”

“Yes.” She nodded. For whatever reason, Oliver had always known her thoughts and why she did the things she did. “I couldn’t help but imagine the worst-case scenario.”

“Because that’s what you’ve always done.”

“It’s as if my mind compels me to think that way just now, and sometimes, it frightens me. I don’t know myself as I did perhaps ten years ago.” Sophia looked at him, as he rested his weight on an elbow like they were attending a picnic instead of discussing the most important topics. Oh, he was such a handsome man, and so dear with those wire-rimmed spectacles, that the real possibility of losing him brought tears to her eyes. “Perhaps that was why I consented to marry you. I’m different, somehow, at this time in my life, and I don’t know why. I don’t understand myself any longer.”

“We all are different as we age.” For long moments, he regarded her, but his emotions were too difficult and hooded to read. “When you told me two days ago what you felt for me didn’t matter any longer, when you removed yourself from our literal marriage bed, that you ordered me away from you, I was hurt; my heart broke, Sophia.”

“I’m so sorry.” Her chest tightened so much that it stole her breath. She pressed a hand to her heart. “I didn’t want you to think I’d trapped you into this union on false pretenses.”

One of his eyebrows rose. “Then you would have done so under true ones?”

“What?” His words made no sense. “No. That’s not what I meant.” She shook her head. “The attraction that sprang between us from the outset was all too real. It still is.” A shuddering sigh escaped her. “And when I said that I loved you not long ago, that wasn’t a lie.”

“Then what, exactly, are you struggling with, sweeting?” A faint grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I’m afraid I don’t see the problem.”

Of course, he wouldn’t. “There might not be anything wrong with my heart, but there is definitely something not quite normal with my health.” After pressing her lips together in an effort to stem their trembling, she shook her head. “I don’t wish to consign you to a life where you might need to look after me if my faculties leave me, and I certainly don’t want you to decide that I’m fit for Bedlam or an asylum that the doctor spoke about.” A sob rose into her throat, but she tamped it. “My grandmother, from all accounts, was insane. Perhaps that is my fate, but I couldn’t bear to have these things weigh upon your shoulders.”

“That is the responsibility of a husband, Sophia. No matter what.”

“But—”

“Hush.” He gave her a small, tight smile. “First of all, once you and I repair what is between us now, there will never come a time when you and I are parted again. I would never consign you to such a place.” His voice was full of firm determination, and his expression stole her breath with its fierce protection. “You are my wife. For better or for worse. For now and always. For sickness and in health. That’s what I promised you, and I never go back on my word.”

“I…”

He heaved out a breath and frustration went through his expression. “Nothing will work, we won’t move forward, unless you trust me and trust yourself that you’ve made the right decision. That we belong together.”

“If I hadn’t trusted you, I wouldn’t have married you.”

“Then, again, love, I fail to see the problem.” His eyes twinkled with amusement. “Nothing has changed between us except your expiration date.”

Such a cheeky devil. I love him so much. She’d been a silly widgeon to ever think either of them could merely walk away.

“I don’t know… There is surely something off with my health. I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You aren’t.”

“That being said, I want to return to London. I’ll submit to as many tests or as many examinations as you order if that might allow us to determine what it is that I’m suffering from.” If that was even possible. Men who studied medicine knew next to nothing. It was entirely possible they would never find answers.

“We will do whatever you want—and that was my only intent by wishing to leave just now—but please know this.” Oliver moved into a sitting position. He held her gaze with his. Never had she seen him as somber as he was now. “I have never stopped loving you. Not with knowing your heart was diseased, not through knowing it wasn’t, and I won’t as we go through whatever else you currently grapple with.”

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