Page 53 of The Virgin and the Viscount

“No, he deserved that.” His brow furrowed. “Though, in the future, I’d prefer you not strike a gentleman unless you know I’m close by to protect you should he decide to strike back. I would never hit a woman, but not all men are so forward thinking.”

She nodded.

“How is your hand?” He lifted her hand and inspected her knuckles. The skin wasn’t abraded, but her hand was red and swollen.

“Now that you’ve brought it to my attention, it hurts some. But I shall survive.” She needed to apologize, say something about what a fool she’d been regarding to Thomas and not trusting Sullivan. He’d never given her any reason not to trust him, yet she’d been guarded with him from the beginning.

“Do you need something for the pain?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Can we walk? In the gardens, perhaps?”

“Of course.”

He looped her hand into the crook of his elbow then led her through the back of the house and out into the gardens. They walked in silence for several moments, the only sound that of their shoes on the tiny rocks that lined the paths. Lush sweet pea blooms surrounded them, permeating the air with their fragrance.

The garden went deeper than she’d anticipated and finally opened up to a small garden maze. The shrubs were short and squatty and barely came up to her knees. Not a very effective maze, but walking around in it would serve her purpose.

“This maze is pathetic.”

He chuckled. “It was designed for us when we were children. It was more impressive when we were smaller.”

That made sense, but she wasn’t in the mood to be agreeable. They walked in silence, curving through the maze until they reached the center.

“I owe you an apology,” she said abruptly.

“For what?”

She exhaled slowly. “For not believing you. For everything.” They wove through the shorter shrubs until they came to what she presumed to be the center. There was a tall tree and a stone bench. He clasped her hand and pulled her to the bench.

“It matters not, Tilly,” he said, his voice gentle.

“It does though. I defended him.” She searched his face, not certain what she was looking for. “He is a bad man.”

Sullivan sighed heavily. “Yes, I believe he is.”

“I am truly sorry for not trusting you. You’ve never given me a reason not to, and I have treated you most poorly,” she said.

He cupped her cheek. “Freckles, there was no way you could know the truth. He is very charming to everyone around him.”

“I suspect he and Melanie have made each other quite miserable. Perhaps it is as your mother said and their inability to have children has hardened them.”

“My brother has a handful of bastards whom he’s ignoring, so I doubt him longing for children is the reason.”

“I see.”

“Has Melanie always been so bitter?”

“My sister and I have always had a complicated relationship. I am not poised or pretty enough for my mother. And Melanie has always been tricky with me. Kind at first, then cruel. I’ve never been able to make sense of her.”

“She’s obviously jealous of you.”

“Of me? Whatever for? She is the great beauty in the family.”

“First, never discount your own beauty; we’ve discussed this. Second, beauty like hers doesn’t reach beneath the top layer. She is like a flower with no roots, one small disruption and she’ll topple over because she has nothing more to her than the ornamental facade.”

“I suspect you are rather wise, my husband.”

“I am pleased to see you’ve finally recognized this.”

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