Page 155 of Rogue of My Heart

When he’d proposed shortly thereafter, it was the most joyous day of her life.

“Have you thought about going home?” Lydia asked softly.

Albina frowned. “What are you talking about? I’m home right now?—

” She abruptly broke off, for she realized her friend wasn’t speaking of Baine House, but rather Beauley Hall. In the five years, she had known Lydia, it was the first time she’d ever remarked upon the estrangement between herself and Chael. They had shared every other confidence from raising children, to writing, and everything in between, but that subject had always been rather off limits, almost taboo.

But now, she realized that it was time she discussed the matter with someone. It wasn’t as though she could continue on as she had for the past five years, turning a blind eye to the only subject that she’d had difficulty facing herself.

Albina shrugged lightly. “I’ve never considered it before. My writing always kept me in London.”

“Perhaps a reprieve is what you need right now,” Lydia suggested. “A change of scenery to help get you past this writing hurdle.” She paused.

“Maybe this is a sign.”

Albina turned to stare into the fire as she considered her friend’s words. Her hands twisted in her lap, but she forced them to still. It was odd that just the idea of facing Chael again could have her so anxious.

But it hadn’t always been that way.

From the start of their marriage, there was no denying that there was plenty of passion. There had been times that they failed to even leave the bedchamber because of their need for each other. But after the arrival of their two daughters, as well as differing priorities that slowly took them in opposite directions, things began to change, and they’d begun to grow apart.

After their third child was born, their son and eventual heir, Albina could still see the adoration in her husband’s eyes, but she could tell it was beginning to dim. He started to spend more time at his club, and by the time Conner grew old enough to attend university, Chael abruptly announced one evening at the dining table that he was retiring to their country estate. He said that he no longer cared for life in London, and now that Mary and Sarah were married, and their son was grown, he was ready

* * *

to live out the rest of his days enjoying the popular outdoor pursuits that he used to enjoy.

Albina had been so stunned that she hadn’t done anything but murmur a silent assent, when inside she was screaming and begging him to stay.

But it was what he’d said that kept her entreaty locked tightly away. He’d said he didn’t care for life in London anymore, but what she heard was that he no longer cared for her.

The rest of that evening, as they’d retired to the parlor to play their usual game of chess, she’d forced herself to remain detached, conducting herself with the decorum expected of a titled, married lady. She wished him well that night and eventually excused herself and went to her room where the bitter tears she’d cried drenched her pillow.

The next morning, he was gone.

Fortunately, any self-pity hadn’t lasted long. She’d picked her broken heart off the floor, and returned to her chamber and the only thing that made sense to her. It was during those disheartening days that Lady A’s Advice Column was born.

Now, as her twenty-fifth wedding anniversary approached, she began to wonder if it was even possible to relive the magic of those early days, to feel as if she could smile without reservation, as if her heart still wasn’t shattered from Chael’s desertion.

For the past five years, she’d inwardly mourned his loss as if he’d gone to his grave, pride and fear of her reception at Beauley Hall keeping her firmly planted in the city. But she realized that, not only did she miss him, but their life together as well. Granted, they offered a brief correspondence from time to time, but a few scrawled words on a sheet of vellum didn’t account for strong arms holding her close, or the intimacy to be found in a marriage bed.

For the first time since she’d met Lydia, Albina allowed those old insecurities to take form in words. “What if he dismisses me?” She swallowed heavily. “Or has someone else?” While she had remained faithful to Chael during their time apart, she had never been daring enough to ask the same of him, even though she had never heard any gossip to confirm that he had taken a mistress. But after so long…

Lydia reached out and squeezed her hand. “You can’t change the past, Albina. All you can do is look to the future. You just have to ask yourself if your relationship is worth saving.” She stood. “I’ll leave you to think it over.”

Albina remained where she was for an interminable length of time, memories clouding and twisting in her mind to rival the swirls of the fire

* * *

in the grate. Finally, as dusk began to fall, she rose to her feet and returned to her desk.

She picked up a fresh sheet of paper and dipped her pen in the inkwell. First, she wrote a hasty letter to her publisher, letting him know that any future columns would be put on hold because she was going to the country and she wasn’t sure when she might be back. He might not care for her abrupt missive, but for the past five years, she had written for his paper like clockwork and earned him a lot of readers.

It was time she did something for herself.

Next, she wrote to her husband to let him know she was coming home.

Michael sat at the desk in his study and held his wife’s letter in his hand. He’d read it through countless times, that familiar feminine script usually so formal and disjointed.