He didn’t seek to challenge her, for how could he? He was in pain. The pain was from the fact that she wanted nothing to do with this marriage when all he wanted to do was make her happy.
He took another sip of his brandy, staring up at her.
“Where have you been?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“Of course, you can’t,” he scoffed, shaking his head. “I should have been able to pre-empt that answer for you.”
“It would only hurt you more to know.”
“That is hardly a comfort, is it?” he said, reaching for the carafe, but she put it far out of his reach.
“We need to talk,” she said softly. He let his hand fall limp. No conversation which started in this way could lead to anything good.
He looked up at her, waiting to begin, but she seemed in no hurry to do so. She rubbed a hand over her face, releasing a shuddery breath.
“You’re frightened of something,” he surmised.
“I am,” she agreed. “You can tell that even in your drunken state?”
“I’m not that bad,” he lied, for he was hardly eager to stand up at the moment. He hadn’t eaten well at dinner, so his legs felt hollow with the alcohol having done its work very quickly indeed. “What has frightened you?”
Her lips parted. For one moment, he thought she was going to answer him then she appeared to change her mind and closed her lips firmly. She retreated from him, perhaps not physically, but he had done this with her enough times over the last few weeks to discern that mentally, she was pulling back from the openness of this conversation.
“There’s something I need to say to you,” she whispered. “I fear you will not like it, but I need you to trust me when I say it is for the best.”
“You ask me to trust you?” he murmured in amazement. “My wife has just spent half the day God knows where. She’s late back and won’t tell me where she has been. You think it easy to trust the word of that wife now?”
“I know, Allan. I know it’s mad to ask for trust, but I need you to believe that what I am about to ask for is for the best.”
“Then what is it? What do you want to ask for?” he said haphazardly, waving his hand toward her, wishing she would just get on with it and tell him what she had to say.
He eyed her carefully as she raised her hand and laid it over her chest, perhaps once more trying to calm her erratic heartbeat. His heart was certainly pounding now as he considered the way she glanced at the door then looked back at him.
She wanted to escape though perhaps this time, that escape was not so temporary.
“Don’t say it,” he said, realizing all too late what she wanted to ask of him. “Please, don’t ask me for that.”
“It’s for the best,” she urged again, her voice light and mild.
“No, no, it’s not.”
“Allan, I want an annulment.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE
Silence extended between them.
Frederica kept on staring at Allan, knowing that though he may not agree with her, this was for the best.
Look at the state he was in now because of her! Look at the pain she was causing him because she was not the bride he wanted. How could she go on forcing him to live like this?
There was another reason though why she had made this decision. Whilst they were married, he was in danger. Lord Wetherington may well have intended to carry out one of his threats from that afternoon, and she couldn’t take that risk.
She cared for Allan too much to let it happen.
Slowly, he downed what was left in his glass and put it down beside himself on the table, the clink loud and echoing between them. Then he slowly stood and faced her.
