It was, though. The guilt within him intensified. If Rosemary were found, his marriage to Tabitha would be annulled, which meant she would be returned to the marriage mart. No one would think ill of her. If anything, Matthew expected that the ton would react with pity and sympathy, but Tabitha’s reputation would not be besmirched. After all, she could not have feasibly anticipated Rosemary’s return.
He was uncertain if Tabitha would find herself in the same dreadful situation that had resulted in their marriage. Likely not. The ton would assume that Tabitha had shared his bed, as any wife would, and if any pre-marital scandal emerged, Matthew could obviously contest such rumours. He imagined very few men would have the gall to contradict his claims that he married a virginal woman. Still, it felt a little wrong to have involved Tabitha in this. He had no guarantees that Rosemary was found, so there was no point in thinking further about what would happen to Tabitha if—when—Rosemary returned.
Matthew resolved to think no further about the matter until he learned more. “Was there something else you needed? If that is all, I ask that you leave me to my business.”
Tabitha’s fingers seemed to tighten around the edge of the door, but he was too far away to know for certain. “You suggested that I invite a friend to come to our townhouse. I wish to invite Bridgette, and I wish to know if tomorrow would be acceptable.”
Matthew frowned, trying to recall who Bridgette was. No particular person came to mind. He had no justification for refusing her. Matthew had agreed that Tabitha could have guests—had just suggested it to her—and he would be petty to deny her this. But if she had a friend visit, she would be happy. Matthew did not wish Tabitha to be miserable exactly, but he also did not want her to—well—
He was not certain what he wanted exactly. Perhaps a small part of him wanted Tabitha to loathe him so that when their marriage inevitably ended, she would not be upset by his absence.
This ran almost counter to his thoughts just moments before. Matthew sighed deeply. He needed solitude. He needed to think. Tabitha was conducive to neither, and her unwelcome presence and Rosemary’s possible appearance sent his mind wandering in a thousand different directions.
“That is your decision,” he said icily. “Your affairs are none of my business.”
“My affairs. Is that a deliberate choice of wording?”
“You read too much into it.”
Tabitha smiled thinly. “I believe I shall spend the night in my bedchamber, Matthew, if it is all the same to you.”
That was likely for the best. If Tabitha did not spend the night in his bedchamber, he would likely spend the night awake and in distress, longing to touch her. “If it pleases you. There is no particular reason to spend the night in mine.”
“It would,” she said, her voice strained. “I will leave you to your correspondence and instead attend to my own.”
“I am pleased to hear that you are not neglecting your duties as—” Matthew cut off. He had been going to say, as the Duchess of Hillsburgh, but that was Rosemary. “—to the household.”
Tabitha curtsied, something mocking about the gesture. “Such sterling praise.”
She closed the door. Matthew waited, listening for her retreating footsteps. The sound never came, but he realized that she had likely left anyway. Women’s slippers were quiet, and ladies always trod very softly. He remembered being unable to hear Rosemary sometimes; she had always sneaked up on him, often delighting in catching him unaware.
Matthew would start, and Rosemary would laugh. Sometimes, he would be a little vexed with her, but his wife’s sparkling eyes and charming smile were like a magic spell. Any vexation turned to mirth in an instant. He had not realized how much he secretly enjoyed her mischief until she was gone.
Now, there was Tabitha. Matthew groaned and dropped his head between his hands. He stared at the wood of his desk as if it might somehow hold the answers to all his dilemmas. “Mother, do you have the faintest idea what you have done?” he muttered.
Of course, she did not. That was partly Matthew’s fault, too. Sure, his mother knew that he still hoped for Rosemary’s return and that he had never abandoned the idea that she might find her way back to him. However, there was much that Matthew had not told the Dowager Duchess, such as the fact that he had employed an investigator to search for Rosemary and Elaine on the Continent.
He had agreed to please her and for the dukedom, but Matthew suddenly realized that there were so many variables he had not considered in this decision. Not once had he thought about how Rosemary’s return might affect Tabitha.
He had thought only about how a loveless marriage was convenient for them both, and because Tabitha was content with that, Matthew had thought that was enough. But she had agreed under false pretences. Like the rest, she likely believed that Rosemary was dead or gone or never to return.
Like the rest, she did not know that Matthew was making efforts to find Rosemary and Elaine, and he certainly could not tell her that he had, at long last, some proof that Rosemary lived still.
Matthew took a shuddering breath. He remembered how honest Tabitha had been at their engagement ball, when he asked about what scandal she was trying to avoid, and she had answered so readily. She deserved someone honest, and he could not be that man.
Chapter 11
Tabitha eagerly embraced her friend, her nose filling with the familiar rose oil Bridgette used in her hair. “It is so good to see you,” Tabitha said.
“And you as well,” Bridgette replied. The young woman pulled back and held Tabitha at arm’s length, surveying her carefully. “I was surprised to hear that you were accepting visitors so soon after the wedding. I assumed you would be otherwise occupied.”
Tabitha forced a smile. She had spent the previous night in her own bedchamber. She had slept little, though. It was impossible to say if her restlessness came from her having become accustomed to having Matthew beside her in bed or if she had merely laid awake as the enormity of her choice weighed upon her.
A small part of Tabitha had thought that Matthew might realize he had been harsh with her. It was obvious that the letter contained stressful news of some kind, but that hardly justified his treatment of her.
Tabitha had thought, or simply hoped, that he would enter her bedchamber, apologize, and invite her to join him. She had even let her hand slip between her legs, imagining the fulfillment of his promise to consummate their marriage, but when dawn arrived, he still had not come for her. He did not join her for breakfast.
“I would never be too occupied to see you,” Tabitha said.
