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Chapter Eighteen

Frederick was in the library reading when he heard Hannah arrive home. It surprised him, in fact, as he hadn’t expected her to return so soon. Yes, she said that she would be home for supper, but seeing as she was visiting her sisters, he half expected them to lose track of time.

Truthfully, he had been looking forward to having the evening to himself. Amelia was busy with Miss Temperton and would likely be for a few more hours yet. And Frederick, for how much he had enjoyed these past two weeks, came to realize that he hadn’t had any time to himself of late. He had some reading he wished to do. Work he needed to finish. Just a chance to sit back with a glass of brandy and savor the silence…

Funny that the sound of his wife arriving home didn’t dampen his mood. While he thought he might have gotten a tad upset, as this free time he had thought to cherish vanished in an instant, the opposite was true. In fact, the sound of her footsteps had him closing his book and hurrying out of the library to greet her.

Gone for but a few hours, and already he missed her. How very strange.

“Hello there, darling!” Frederick greeted as he met her in the hall. With a big smile on his face, he swept toward her, pulled her in, and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “How was your afternoon?”

“Frederick, we need to talk.”

Even before she spoke, Frederick could tell that something was wrong. She didn’t smile when she saw him coming. She didn’t melt into his arms as she usually did. And when he kissed her, he could feel how stiff and uncomfortable she was.

“Oh…” He swallowed, then attempted a chuckle. “Nothing bad, I hope.”

“Can we…” She stepped out of his embrace and gestured down the hall, toward the drawing room. “Please.”

He tried not to panic. Surely, nothingthatbad had occurred in the few hours since he last saw her.

He nodded once and placed his hand on the small of her back as he led her to the drawing room, again unable to ignore how stiff she felt beneath his touch.

His mind raced as they entered the drawing room. Had he done something wrong? Had he said something wrong? Or had her sisters planted a seed of doubt in her mind? And to what effect?

For two weeks, everything had been going so well between them. Surely nothing untoward would change that?

And yet, as he closed the door behind them, watching his wife standing in the middle of the room, unable to even look at him, Frederick could not help but feel that the conversation they were about to have might come to define their marriage. For better or worse.

“Hannah…” He chuckled awkwardly. “Is everything alright?”

She did not speak, now looking at the fire crackling in the hearth.

“You’re scaring me, Hannah.” He wanted to go to her, but he felt that was not the best idea. “Please, if something is wrong, you know that you can tell me. You can tell me anything.”

“I did something,” she said, her voice soft and hesitant. “Something you will not like.”

“Oh?”

“You will be happy to know that the rumors about us…” She took a deep breath. “They will no longer be a problem.”

Frederick frowned, not understanding at first. But as he looked at his wife’s back, as he sensed her fear, he realized now why she was acting this way. What it meant.

“And why is that?” he asked carefully, feeling the anger rising but working to keep it at bay.

“I… I went and spoke with my aunt.”

“You did what?” he almost snapped, again pushing down his rage.

“I had no choice.” She spun around to face him, her face stricken with regret. Her brown eyes were wide. Her brow was furrowed. And her shoulders were hunched down. “The things people were saying—it had to be stopped.”

Frederick exhaled, his jaw clenched. “You went and saw your aunt?”

“I did.”

“You spoke to her even though I told you not to. After I explained?—”

“They would not stop,” she hurried to explain. “If we did nothing, the rumors were only going to get?—”