Captivated By Her Convenient Husband. Bronwyn Scott
Читать онлайн книгу.
was still the same. He’d sent her away as soon as he could.
Avaline lit the lamp beside her bed and picked up a book. She wasn’t likely to sleep any time soon. Her mind was too full of disappointment. She hadn’t realised how much hope she’d inadvertently put into his words from the garden today. He’d said he wanted a real marriage and, despite her best attempts not to, she’d wanted to believe him.
But in a real marriage, husbands and wives told each other everything: the good, the bad, their hopes and their fears. Tonight, he hadn’t been able to tell her his dream. Tonight, he’d turned her away when she’d brought comfort. Tonight in his room was not that different from the last time she’d been in there...
* * *
‘You’re going out?’ Avaline stood in the doorway connecting their two rooms. She’d not been in his room since he’d taken up residence. It seemed empty, devoid of personality, and he hadn’t even left yet. But he was already packed. His trunk stood strapped and ready for departure in the corner. She had the sudden sensation that maybe he’d never unpacked.
Fortis turned from the mirror where he was straightening his stock. ‘Yes. You needn’t wait up for me. The boys and I are going to make a night of it at the tavern in the village. One last hurrah before I am off again to parts unknown. You understand. It will be ages before I see them again.’
‘But you leave tomorrow,’ Avaline stammered her protest. What about her? It would be ages before he saw her again, too. ‘I thought we could have supper together, just the two of us.’ She’d had the cook prepare all his favourites: jugged hare, fresh vegetables and bread. They hadn’t had an evening alone since their wedding, three weeks ago. Every night had been filled with a never-ending round of dinners given in the newlyweds’ honour in lieu of there being time for a proper wedding trip.
What there hadn’t been time for was getting to know her new husband, but she seemed to be the only one bothered by this. Fortis appeared perfectly happy with the arrangement and, if he’d expected to spend his leave in bed with his new bride, he gave no indication he was disappointed it had turned out otherwise. After the dinners, he’d sent her home alone while he’d gone out with his friends. Tonight was her last chance to make up for whatever failings he might have found in her on their wedding night.
‘I’ll wait up. We can have a nightcap together.’ Avaline tried once more.
‘No need. As I said, the boys and I will likely make a night of it. I’ll be home with the sun, long enough to get my trunk. The train leaves at eight.’ He was all brisk efficiency, not a single note of remorse in his tone.
‘Perhaps you might manage a goodbye kiss if you can spare the time,’ Avaline said testily, her anger and disappointment getting the better of her. She hadn’t known what to expect of marriage, but she hadn’t expected to be disregarded.
Her tone got his attention at last. ‘Avaline, are you going to act like a spoiled child?’ He shook his head in a mild gesture of despair. ‘I told my parents you were too young. But they insisted. Your parents insisted. Now it seems I’m right. I am married to a child who expects her husband to stay home and play with her, a child who knows nothing of the world.’
The words stung. He thought her a child? A spoiled child at that, all because she’d wanted a piece of his attention? She raised her chin. ‘I am not a child. I merely thought things would be different.’
‘How so?’ He pulled out his pocket watch, irritated that she was making him late. ‘Let me spell this out for you. This is not a fairy tale where we suddenly fall in love.’ He strode from the room without a word of apology, without even a chaste kiss on her cheek. The message could not be clearer. Her husband wasn’t interested in loving her.
* * *
She’d been dismissed then, too. Not much had changed, after all. She’d been right to reserve judgement about the man who’d returned to her, right to protect her heart from making a fool of herself again. She blew out her lamp, finally exhausted, one last thought lingering as she drifted to sleep. Maybe the old adage was true. The more things changed, the more they stayed the same. That was certainly proven tonight, although a part of her wished it hadn’t. Part of her wanted to believe the man in the garden wanted the same things she wanted and that he was capable of giving her those things.
He was going to exhaust himself before supper at this rate. Avaline stopped long enough from helping with lunch preparations to watch her husband with the tenants as they thatched a roof. Perhaps that was his plan. Work hard, sleep hard in order to avoid the bad dreams by night and perhaps his wife by day.
For all the differences she saw in Fortis, that one hadn’t changed. Last night had driven that home. He’d never had time for her and it seemed he still didn’t. No doubt he’d brought her today to tour the estate because he’d needed her to make introductions. The sooner she could accept that, the sooner she could move forward with constructing what her new life as Fortis’s wife would look like.
The sight of him working made it difficult to harden her heart entirely. It had pleased and surprised her to see his willingness to join in. He’d never shown an interest in the estate before. Perhaps he’d meant that piece at least when he said he’d come to home to help with Blandford. It gave her a different kind of hope. The new life they could have together might not be the fairy tale she yearned for, but perhaps neither would it be as disappointing as their past. They might be able to use their dedication to Blandford to build a foundation between them, one that in time would give way to respect and friendship. Many marriages were built on less. She could learn to be happy with that if she could just keep her fantasies in check. Something that was easier to say than to do, when one’s handsome husband was up on the roof, flexing his muscles in shirtsleeves.
Avaline used a hand to shield her eyes against the sun. At some point in the morning, Fortis’s coat had come off along with his waistcoat, his shirt open at the neck, the once carefully laundered garment now sporting splotches of sweat and grime. His trousers were dusty from hauling up the bundles of straw. He paused on the roof, straightening for a moment to wipe the sweat from his brow. It was heated work, hard work, even beneath an October sun. The day was clear and crisp, the not-so-subtle hint of oncoming winter in the air, yet the efforts of labour were evidenced in the steam off his body.
What a body it was. Even at a distance, she couldn’t help but be aware of it, of him. Shoulders strained tirelessly beneath his shirt; long, booted legs strode confidently on the flat of the roof with athletic grace, old buckskin breeches showing well-muscled thighs, never mind that most men of his class had eschewed breeches for trousers. ‘No sense in ruining perfectly good trousers,’ he’d told her this morning when she’d raised a questioning eyebrow at his attire. That was new, too, another piece of reality the military must have drilled into him: thrift, frugality. The Fortis she’d married had been fashion conscious. Not a dandy, certainly, but always well-turned-out. Too bad breeches weren’t back in fashion. She liked the look. He wore them well. Extremely well. Well enough to make a girl forget quite a lot of things, ranging from helping the women lay out a luncheon to the risks of wagering one’s heart on a fool’s prospect. Perhaps she wasn’t beyond such foolishness as she thought. If so, she would need to be on her guard.
‘Let me take those.’ Mrs Baker came to help her with the basket of apples on her arm and she felt silly for standing about gawking at a man who’d dismissed her from his bedroom last night.
‘I’m sorry, Mrs Baker, I was just bringing the basket to the table,’ Avaline apologised hastily.
The woman smiled knowingly, following the recent trajectory of her gaze. ‘You must be thrilled to have him home, such a handsome man, and the two of you only married a short while before he had to leave.