"What do you mean?" she asked, her voice fragile and soft.
Cedric clenched his fists tighter, feeling his nails break his skin. "We never should have kissed," he said firmly, almost sternly, clawing for stability in formality that might help him through this. "That is not what our relationship is. I did not intend to give you the impression that there is anything more between us, my lady. I cannot express my regret that I have done so."
"More than what?" Louisa moved to try to see his face, and the glimpse of her own, pale cheeks and troubled gaze sent a barb through him. "I do not understand what you are saying to me. What do we have with each other, Cedric? What are you trying to avoid?"
Cedric moved again, stalking to the window and looking out over the estate that had always been the focus of his family's honor and duty. In his own eyes there was only one thing more important than St Vincent, and that was Abigail and Kenneth. Anything other than that could never be allowed to distract him.
Louisa did not follow, she did not move. Perhaps she felt as frozen by this cold ending to their fledgling affection as he was.
"We have an agreement," he said slowly, keeping his voice brutally even and calm. "A marriage of convenience that exists on paper alone. There can be no feelings between us, Lady St Vincent, no affection. We are business partners in duty, nothing more and nothing less. I believe I made that clear when we wed."
There was a silence so long and heavy that he almost turned to look at her, to ensure that she was all right, but he could not. He must not bend now. He must continue else all was lost.
"Is this how you really feel?" There was something new in her voice, a thread of rage that finally brought him around to look at her. What a sight she was, tears wet on her cheeks but her chin high and her eyes blazing in fury. She was not bowed or broken. He wanted for a moment to cross the gap between them that could only ever get wider and colder after this moment, to kiss her hands and beg her forgiveness.
"This is how I really feel," he said instead, giving her up forever. "I hope you can respect my wishes."
"Oh I can," she said, her lips trembling only for a moment. Her hands were held stiff at her side, and she was so still she might have become a statue if it were not for the rapid rising and falling of her chest. "I will respect your instructions on this matter without fail, my lord. I can only apologize to you for momentarily mistaking you and misunderstanding your intentions. I am sure that you can forgive me, it cannot be the first time that this has happened to you."
The barb was shot coldly and Cedric felt a little surprise at how well she was managing herself, raising only an eyebrow in response.
"You must permit me some time to think on this, however," she continued. "I shall return to my father's house for a few days and spend time with my family amongst those who love me."
Cedric felt those words as though they were a sword through his stomach and stepped once quickly towards her, aching to reach out and catch her to him. "Louisa -"
"It shall not be for long," she continued, pressing on as though he had not spoken, her face so cold and distant, her eyes full of tears but not one dropping down her cheeks. "I ask you not to concern yourself, my lord. I would not think of abandoning the children or St Vincent. I understand my duties and you have nothing to worry about."
She looked at him then, fully in the eyes and all his protests fell away from him. There was fury there yes, but also devastation that matched what he was feeling in his own heart. He could not deny her this solace, he could not forbid her.
He could only watch as she turned and left his office quietly, leaving behind heartache and loss and the knowledge that he had fixed his error by destroying everything that they had built.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
"Dear Louisa!" Alexandra stood at her place at the breakfast table and crossed the room, taking Louisa by the arm and drawing her to her old space at the table. It should have been so comforting to be back in her old home where she had spent so many years being loved by the best sisters in the world, and yet Louisa could barely summon a smile as she sat.
"Good morning," she said softly, looking at the place that had been set for her and wondering that it was already served with her favorite breakfast of a toasted bun and a little bit of the family honey. "I hope that I have not kept you waiting long."
"Since when do we wait on anyone?" Penelope asked, laughing a little. She was sharp this morning, her hair tied at her neck with a broad bow and her eyes dancing with wit as she cut her usual boiled egg into thin slices to eat on toast. "I would have devoured your breakfast without a smidge of sympathy, sister, had you not come down in time."
"I should not have allowed it," Alexandra said confidingly. "I would have rescued your plate."
"You would have tried," Penelope said. "I am taller than you."
"You are not!"
"At least a whole inch, I have measured!"
Louisa smiled faintly and poured a small cup of coffee. At St Vincent she was used to breaking her fast with coffee and a small cake or some toast, the richness of the bun in front of her made her feel as though her stomach must turn.
Was it possible for her tastes to change so fast? Or for the usual merry noise of her family to feel alien and strange now, so different from the chatter of the children and Cedric's occasional wry presence? How could she laugh ever again at Lexi or Penelope when her heart was aching to think of what she had left behind and the cold hopelessness of what she must return to?
"Now girls," Father said dryly. "Settle. Your sister has not come back to listen to bedlam and mayhem on her first morning."
"It is not so very different to usual, father," she said slowly. It was his thoughts, his ideas that she feared the most. He had been so distant when she had left to be a married woman, not that he had ever been particularly present for her before. His eyes had glanced over her as though he still could not see her, even as a bride. Would he tell her to leave again as soon as was polite?Would he be cross that she had quarreled with an Earl and was risking bringing the family into the quarrel?
"Perhaps not," he said calmly, looking at her above his morning letters. "But you need some peace, Louisa. It is not so bad to admit to that. Stay as long as you need, your room will always be here for you."
She could not speak for a moment. It was exactly what she had always wished he had done for her, seen her, offered her comfort, that it was impossible for her to say a word without revealing how near tears she was. Perhaps he could tell, because he quickly finished his coffee and withdrew to his study, patting her awkwardly on the hand before he left.
