“When you look at me as though the world sits upon your very shoulders, I am not inclined to let you feel its full weight if in whatever way I can lie to shave off a bit extra.”
Phillip’s expression shifted, barely, but it did, and Marina pressed on, hopeful that she was at last getting through to him.
“There are times, Phillip, when we are speaking or arguing, when I want you to share each and every intricacy of the truth with me. There are other times when I can see that you are deliberately concealing it from me, and I know that I am happy to have you protecting me in such a way.”
“Yes, Marina, that is part of caring for someone.”
“I know. But we should be able to ask one another—to trust one another to know for ourselves—to tell the truth when we need to.”
“What is this about, really?”
Marina leaned forward, pressing herself closer to him in her eagerness. “I want to know who the woman was at the ball.”
“What woman?”
“The one you spoke with. The one with the dark hair.”
Phillip sat back in his chair, abruptly, his eyes and face suddenly as blank and distant as Marina remembered them being when they first met. He became entirely unreadable, and it frustrated her to no end. She had asked him for honesty, and it was evident that he had shut down instead.
“I cannot say that I recall.”
“How do you know her?”
“Marina, I am not sure who you mean. I could have spoken with any number of people at the ball while we were apart.”
Marina shut her eyes. She had considered this as a possibility, of course. That he had only spoken to the woman in passing. Perhaps if he had answered her immediately and told her this, she would have believed him. But as it stood, she was only further convinced that he was hiding things from her. When she opened her eyes to look upon him again, they were wet with tears threatening to fall.
“If this is truly the answer you wish to give, Phillip, then I will accept it. But I want to impress upon you that if there is another truth in this matter, it will be found. Dishonesty about this sort of thing…it is always found out.”
There was no turning back now. Marina had done it—she had all but outright accused her husband of bedding other women, or at least, of publicly flirting with them. She watched him, carefully to gauge his reaction. It took only a few seconds for her to realize that she had messed up as she saw an expression from him that she had never seen before.
Hatred.
It was not directed at her but at whomever it was she reminded him of in that moment. Phillip felt as though he were staring not at his wife but at the man who had tormented him most of his life. He had not been privy to much of his parents’ relationship, but hehadread each and every one of the late Duke’s letters to him.
They were filled to the brim with accusations about his mother’s infidelity—intense scrutiny about Phillip’s face and how much it differed from his “father”, detailed descriptions of the timeline of his mother’s whereabouts during the suspected time frame. On and on it went, the deluded scribblings of a mad man slipping away into the ether, replaying his worst moments in life as if he were right back in them.
Phillip stood and came around the desk to face Marina, sitting back on the edge of it as he peered down at her. He wantedto feel bitter or angry, but he felt pain, instead. Pain not just for himself, but for her—how had she come to this conclusion? What had he allowed to slip through the cracks which brought them to this awful place?
“Marina.” He held his hand out to her, and she took it, allowing him to pull her up to stand before her. With him leaning, she was nearly his same height. Their eyes were level with one another. “The girl you speak of. She wore a cream-colored dress, and her hair was down about her shoulders?”
Marina nodded her head eagerly.
Phillip pressed his hand to his forehead and shut his eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath. “She is my third cousin who I have met once before, and she is quite a bit older than she must have looked to you. Emma is now twenty, and she has just had her first daughter with her husband at the start of this year.”
Marina’s eyes grew wide. “She is married?”
Phillip nodded his head slowly. “She is.” Marina was still, quiet as he watched her think it over. “I was hoping to introduce the two of you formally. I have very little family to speak of and much less family whom I wish for you to meet.”
“I see,” Marina said quietly. Phillip reached up and brushed a stray curl out of her face. He could see how exhausted she was. He could feel it—he, too, was tired of fighting with her.
“I should not have kept it from you. Had I known where your mind would take you, I would have told you immediately.” His eyes grew sad and wan. “I had hoped, all this time, that the talk of scandals and my past had not affected you so.”
Marina looked away from him. “It should not have,” she said quietly.
“It is fine that it has.” They sat in silenc, for a moment. Marina felt that her thinly veiled accusation had changed things between them forever. Phillip was determined that it would not. “I was speaking to you just the other day about how I cannot offer you a romantic connection. I understand why you must have felt the way you do.”
“I feel so ashamed,” she admitted.
