His wife firmly believed he did not trust her, that all they had shared was a lie. He would never convince her he cared for her if he freed her sister from consequence now. She’d believe it an act, a tactic of some sort. She’d never believe him if he said he’d come to the decision before Warton ousted his secret. She’d never believe he was going to tell her in the morning. So, even if he released Holly, they’d never be able to overcome the matter. Willow had lost all trust in him.
Ambrose inhaled a deep breath.
And that is where the new, albeit highly difficult plan came into action. He’d known standing on those stairs, shaken and furious, that the only way forward was to give his wife space to be who she was at heart—a lovely, meddlesome creature. It was the only way Ambrose could see to make her understand he accepted her wholly, unreservedly, and without question. He passively allowed her to meddle. He’d give up control.
So she would devise a plan to free her sister.
And he would let her.
Once Holly was free, he’d make sure his wife understood that he’d sat back and surrendered long before she’d won.
His inaction would be his action.
He would give up the reins—like he had done with his new set of rules—and then, only then, would Willow believe that he was sincere. He damned well hoped. Prayed.
He sank down onto the bed, resting his head in his hands.
What a bloody disaster.
But it would be worth it. Because he loved her.
It was a truth he could no longer deny. Nor wanted to.
He loved his wife.