midstride, and faced her. “Do we have an understanding?”
“Y-yes, Nicholas,” she said low-voiced. She wanted to scream out:
I don’t want a lover. You are my husband. I want you to want me
, but her throat closed over the words, and it was all she could do to choke back her tears.
“Oh, and one more thing,” he said. “Do not get too attached to Nero. Keep your distance. I have . . . plans for him, and if they come to fruition, he may be leaving us soon, which is why it was my wish that you not even know of his existence. I wouldn’t want you to suffer any more separation angst than you already have over another animal, especially one of mine.”
“It isn’t because . . . because . . . I came to his defense?”
“No, it is not,” he said. “You needn’t go on. You didn’t fool me last night with your ‘book from the library’ tale. You’re an intelligent woman. I cannot imagine having to tell you twice where any room in this house is after you’d been shown. I knew why you came downstairs. You were . . . involved with that animal in some way. That was fairly obvious, and that’s not why I’ve brought it up. My plans for Nero were formed long before you ever came here, Sara. There’s nothing you can do to change them, and if you knew what they were, you wouldn’t want to. I don’t know what’s put it into your head that I mean to harm that animal, but I assure you I do not. I simply do not want you to form an attachment that you will later regret. This, too, I must insist upon as one of the ground rules . . . probably the most important one. And now, if you will excuse me, I really must be about house business.”
He streaked past her then, his fists still jammed in his pockets, and disappeared in the shadows of the corridor outside.
His abrupt departure was jarring, but welcome. She barely made it to her suite before the tears came. How could he offer her a lover so casually? Did he think so little of her? Why hadn’t she spoken out? Why hadn’t she at the very least let him know the suggestion was repugnant to her? His words had stalled her brain. What must he think, that she was no better than the two-thirds of society who embraced the taking of lovers and mistresses as a viable way of life? It wasn’tthat he proposed such a thing that had stricken her so. It was that he seemed to think she would accept such an arrangement.
Sara flung herself across the bed and sobbed her heart dry. He was going to take Nero away. What terrible fate did he have in store for that poor animal? She wouldn’t bear it. It was already too late not to become attached.
I’ll hide Nero away before I’ll let Nicholas harm him
, she decided, pounding the feather-down pillow. What was happening to her? She was never a watering pot—not once during all the horrid debasement in that odious prison had she shed a single tear.
She had nearly cried herself to sleep, when Nell came to help her dress for dinner. One look in the cheval glass was enough to make her beg off. Her eyes were puffy and red, nearly swollen shut, and her fair skin was covered with blotches. It always happened when she cried, which was one of the reasons she so seldom indulged. She certainly couldn’t go downstairs looking like that. She didn’t bother to send her regrets. Nicholas probably wouldn’t be dining anyway, if his past behavior were any example. She wasn’t hungry, but she opted for a tray in her suite anyway. Were she to refuse and call attention to her distress, it might prompt a visit from Nicholas, and she’d had quite enough of him for one day.
When the food arrived, she managed to eat most of it. Afterward, she had Nell prepare her for bed, and dismissed her for the evening; the mousy little abigail had set her sights on one of the hall boys, and was only too willing to oblige. It was too early to sleep. Sara couldn’t even if she’d wanted to—not with so many troubled thoughts rattling around in her brain. But she
“Y-yes, Nicholas,” she said low-voiced. She wanted to scream out:
I don’t want a lover. You are my husband. I want you to want me
, but her throat closed over the words, and it was all she could do to choke back her tears.
“Oh, and one more thing,” he said. “Do not get too attached to Nero. Keep your distance. I have . . . plans for him, and if they come to fruition, he may be leaving us soon, which is why it was my wish that you not even know of his existence. I wouldn’t want you to suffer any more separation angst than you already have over another animal, especially one of mine.”
“It isn’t because . . . because . . . I came to his defense?”
“No, it is not,” he said. “You needn’t go on. You didn’t fool me last night with your ‘book from the library’ tale. You’re an intelligent woman. I cannot imagine having to tell you twice where any room in this house is after you’d been shown. I knew why you came downstairs. You were . . . involved with that animal in some way. That was fairly obvious, and that’s not why I’ve brought it up. My plans for Nero were formed long before you ever came here, Sara. There’s nothing you can do to change them, and if you knew what they were, you wouldn’t want to. I don’t know what’s put it into your head that I mean to harm that animal, but I assure you I do not. I simply do not want you to form an attachment that you will later regret. This, too, I must insist upon as one of the ground rules . . . probably the most important one. And now, if you will excuse me, I really must be about house business.”
He streaked past her then, his fists still jammed in his pockets, and disappeared in the shadows of the corridor outside.
His abrupt departure was jarring, but welcome. She barely made it to her suite before the tears came. How could he offer her a lover so casually? Did he think so little of her? Why hadn’t she spoken out? Why hadn’t she at the very least let him know the suggestion was repugnant to her? His words had stalled her brain. What must he think, that she was no better than the two-thirds of society who embraced the taking of lovers and mistresses as a viable way of life? It wasn’tthat he proposed such a thing that had stricken her so. It was that he seemed to think she would accept such an arrangement.
Sara flung herself across the bed and sobbed her heart dry. He was going to take Nero away. What terrible fate did he have in store for that poor animal? She wouldn’t bear it. It was already too late not to become attached.
I’ll hide Nero away before I’ll let Nicholas harm him
, she decided, pounding the feather-down pillow. What was happening to her? She was never a watering pot—not once during all the horrid debasement in that odious prison had she shed a single tear.
She had nearly cried herself to sleep, when Nell came to help her dress for dinner. One look in the cheval glass was enough to make her beg off. Her eyes were puffy and red, nearly swollen shut, and her fair skin was covered with blotches. It always happened when she cried, which was one of the reasons she so seldom indulged. She certainly couldn’t go downstairs looking like that. She didn’t bother to send her regrets. Nicholas probably wouldn’t be dining anyway, if his past behavior were any example. She wasn’t hungry, but she opted for a tray in her suite anyway. Were she to refuse and call attention to her distress, it might prompt a visit from Nicholas, and she’d had quite enough of him for one day.
When the food arrived, she managed to eat most of it. Afterward, she had Nell prepare her for bed, and dismissed her for the evening; the mousy little abigail had set her sights on one of the hall boys, and was only too willing to oblige. It was too early to sleep. Sara couldn’t even if she’d wanted to—not with so many troubled thoughts rattling around in her brain. But she
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