Page 55 of Miss Hawthorne’s Unlikely Husband (The Troublemakers Trilogy #3)

H e was dreaming. He knew he was. Elodia was there in red silk, her eyes laughing, running just ahead of him.

He chased after her, reaching for her hands, her loose hair, the hem of her dress but to no avail.

She darted and jumped like a hummingbird, forever out of grasp, forever too high above him no matter how high he climbed after her.

There was that sickening feeling in his stomach as his body grew more exhausted that he would lose her, that she was slipping away and he couldn’t stop it.

He strained above his head, his fingertips brushed hers… just a little further. Orange blossoms filled his nostrils and arms wrapped around his waist from behind.

“Hello, lover,” Rachel’s voice came.

Elodia’s eyes flooded with tears as she pulled her hand away.

He struggled to free himself but Rachel’s arms grew tighter and tighter until he couldn’t breathe.

He called for Elodia over and over but no sound came out.

His foot slipped. Then he was falling. Falling away from Elodia, falling from grace, falling back into Rachel’s unkind embrace.

When he hit the floor, his eyes flew open. He was in his bedroom, his sheets tangled around his legs, even as he lay on the hard wood. His body was covered in sweat and his stomach… Christ, he felt ill. Gingerly he rolled over, pulling his leg free and pushing himself up to his feet.

He was fine. Elodia was likely in her bedroom and Rachel was nowhere near him.

But the shirt he was wearing still smelled like her.

He ripped it off and threw it across the room.

He wouldn’t be easy until he’d washed her scent off of him for good.

Then he had to go to Lord Melbroke and apologize for the travesty that had taken place under his roof.

The door to his room opened and Morris entered.

“Good morning, sir,” he greeted him, his gaze falling to the bed that Richard hadn’t used since he and Elodia were married.

“I need a bath, Morris, please.”

“Very good, sir,” he said, picking up the discarded shirt off the floor.

“Burn that shirt.”

“Sir?” Morris blinked at him, clearly wondering if he’d lost his mind.

“The shirt, burn it. And the jacket I wore last night as well. I don’t want to see them again.”

Morris stared at him for a second longer than usual then nodded. “Very good, sir.”

After bathing, Richard dressed and wrote a short note for Elodia before handing it to Morris. “Give this to Mrs. Thornfield when she wakes up.”

“Very good, sir. Will you be taking breakfast, sir?”

His appetite was nonexistent. “No.”

It was cowardly, but he couldn’t face her that morning.

The note would suffice until he had the words to face her.

The night before had left him raw and sickly.

He’d shared a side of himself with her that he’d never shared with anyone and the result had been disappointingly predictable.

She hated him, and there was nothing he could do to fix it now.

He opted to walk to Melbroke House. It would take a half hour at most and he didn’t have the wherewithal to ride in an enclosed space just then.

He needed fresh air and exercise to walk off the anxiety and nausea that had been plaguing him since before he’d gone to bed.

He’d tossed and turned half sick all night with dread that his marriage was over after barely a fortnight.

That no matter what he did, his affair with Rachel was going to cost him everything and leave him forever alone.

After a taste of Elodia’s love, he couldn’t bear the thought of it.

When he arrived at Melbroke House, the butler let him in and directed him to the breakfast room where he found his father-in-law in his house robe, enjoying what seemed to be the last of his breakfast.

“Mister Thornfield, my lord,” he announced.

Melbroke glanced up and caught sight of Richard. They stared at each other for a moment, the older man taking in Richard’s appearance before nodding.

“More coffee, I think, Ingsley,” he said.

“Very good, my lord,” the man said before leaving the room.

“Have a seat,” Melbroke gestured to the empty chair with an almost friendly smile.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt your breakfast, my lord,” Richard began, before sitting across from him.

“Not at all, Thornfield. You look rather bright eyes this morning.” His smile was annoyingly amused.

Richard almost groaned. “I came to apologize for the scene that transpired last night.”

“Ah, yes, what was that about?” He actually seemed curious.

“Lady Tremaine and I were involved for some years before this and I broke it off at the beginning of this season,” Richard explained.

Melbroke nodded as if he had suspected something of the kind. “And she didn’t take well to her puppet cutting its own strings?”

“Essentially.”

He nodded again. “That makes sense. I imagine you didn’t mention this earlier because of some notion of gentlemanly discretion?”

“Yes.”

He nodded again and bit off a corner of his toast. “You will be pleased to know that Lady Tremaine has taken off for the continent, permanently this time. She’s unlikely to trouble you again.”

“That is good to know.” Although he still had no idea what was happening. Of all the reactions he’d expected from Lord Melbroke, this wasn’t one of them.

“Good riddance, I say,” Melbroke said.

“I thought you would be angrier with me, Lord Melbroke.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. She may not have been the love of your life, but my actions have disrupted your plans significantly.”

Melbroke sighed and leaned back in his chair.

“I want to be annoyed or displeased with you, but frankly, I can’t manage it.

I was beginning to dread the rest of my life as her husband; I could not really stand that woman at all.

The second issue is, of course, that for all your bad judgement, I can’t imagine that I would have done anything differently to what you did if the shoe were on the other foot. ”

“Ah.” He didn’t know what to say to that.

Melbroke smirked. “Yes. Considering my earlier bouts of stupidity, you may take that statement as you will.”

Richard didn’t know what to say to that. Was the man joking with him? Did he really not care?

“How is my daughter?”

He sighed and rubbed his forehead as a headache began to throb behind his eyes. “Livid and possibly disgusted,”

“Yes, you look like she’s taken a few swipes at you. I know what that’s like. Cheer up, the nausea fades after a few weeks.”

“Weeks?”

“Mmm,” He pushed the rack of toast towards him. “Have some.”

“Do you think she will forgive me?” Richard picked one up for want of something else to do, and bit off a piece. He wasn’t hungry, but surely toast couldn’t hurt.

“God, yes,” Melbroke scoffed, sipping his coffee. “With how much she loves you, it is a matter of when, not if.”

He swallowed the dried bread and spoke the words that terrified him the most. “She didn’t know me when she said she loved me. What if this new information makes her rethink that?”

“Because she is stubborn. She loves stubbornly as well. Your judgement was impaired, but she will not give up her love for you over that harlot. The truth is no one truly knows the person they fall in love with, you merely know enough.” He paused for a moment then sighed.

“You gave me some very good advice a few weeks ago, so I shall return the favor.

“Yes?”

“Give her time and space but don’t go far. She’s angry, but she’s like her mother, so she doesn’t want to feel alone. Stay close by until she comes to you.”

Richard shook his head. “She doesn’t want me anywhere near her at the moment.”

He nodded. “I understand, but she doesn’t want to be alone either. Did you have any business ventures you were planning to see to?”

He thought of Aunt Cordelia. “Not long one’s, I’d only be gone a day,”

“Cancel them,” Melbroke said, shaking his head. “Show up for a kicking now and then and take it willingly. She’ll run out of energy soon enough and that is when you apologize profusely. Grovel.” He tapped the table with a finger.

“Grovel?”

“Like your life depends on it.”

He nodded. He had his marching orders. Stay nearby and grovel the moment the opportunity presented itself.

*

The next few days were exhausting. Elodia could barely sleep without Richard and they only spoke to each other when there was no other option.

She spent her days in her sitting room, or the garden.

Occasionally taking rides out on her horse alone.

They should have been doing those things together, planning for their honeymoon in France.

They should have been happy. Instead, they were at an impasse where she didn’t want to be around him in case he was able to placate her and he clearly didn’t want to force his presence on her.

She kept waking up wondering if he would leave but invariably she found him at home, either in his study or on the grounds.

If he went out, he always left a note behind, giving her patience and remorse instead of defensive impatience.

She knew her anger with him was perhaps a bit unfair but she couldn’t see her way out of it.

He had withheld vital information, and his inaction had embarrassed her and her poor father.

The simple fact was she didn’t know how to face him, knowing he and Lady Tremaine had been lovers.

Had they done all the things she had done with him?

Had she pleased him more than Elodia had?

Every passing aside, implying her knowledge of Richard or men like him kept ringing in her ears.

Of course she knew all about Richard; she’d been intimate with him for years.

All she could see was him with that woman. That cheap slattern.