Page 160 of Rogue of My Heart

She looked at him evenly. “As if I never existed.”

He jerked as if she’d struck him.

“I don’t know if I can ever forgive you for this.” Her words were soft, but filled with a painful bitterness. “I should just return to London tomorrow and forget all about this place.”

About you…

The unspoken words hung in the air long after she’d gathered her skirts and swept out of the room, but Michael had felt every syllable as a direct arrow to his heart.

He hung his head in defeat. The first night she was under the same roof with him, and she was ready to leave already. Well done, old chap.

He shoved a hand through his thick hair and blew out a deep breath.

He winced, remembering the accusing glare in her shimmering eyes. He had known that she’d loved this place more than any other room in the house, had found it relaxing tending to the new blooms of life and caring for those that were on the brink of death.

She believed that he’d intentionally torn apart her memories and ground them beneath his boot heel. And maybe, when he’d ordered this room to be cleared, that’s what he’d done. At the time, he’d been angry, but more than that, he hadn’t been able to bear to watch all those plants wither and die without Albina there to care for them.

* * *

She still didn’t understand that none of it mattered without her.

It never had.

He wanted nothing more than to make his marriage with Albina work, but it couldn’t be one-sided. Either way, he certainly wasn’t starting out on the right foot. Even if he ordered hundreds of hothouse blooms to be arranged in here tomorrow, it wouldn’t erase the pain, the feeling of betrayal that he’d already caused her.

At this point, he was starting to think that no matter what he did, nothing would bring her love back to him.

Albina requested a tray in her room the next morning. She wasn’t quite prepared to face Michael just yet. She was still heart sore over the conservatory, even though she realized, in the light of day, that she might have overreacted. In truth, she knew she had. There was no call for her to have lashed out at him like she had. He’d spoken nothing but the truth.

After all, it wasn’t as if flowers didn’t have an expiration date without someone to care for them.

When her ladies’ maid, Helen, who had accompanied her from London, brought in her breakfast tray, Albina glanced at it, surprised to see a single red rose lying beside the plate along with a neatly folded missive. Her hand shook as she opened the folded note.

I’m sorry. I should have warned you about the conservatory.

Please accept this as a peace offering so that we might begin anew.

—M

Albina pressed the letter against her heart before she picked up her fork and ate quickly. She carefully performed her morning ablutions, taking a lavender scented bath, while the whole time her nerves were thrumming with energy with the urgent need to see Michael and make amends. She sat at her dressing table while Helen brushed her hair. As she waited for Helen to pin her waist-length locks into a simple bun at her nape, Albina stared at her reflection with a critical eye.

She remembered, all those years ago, the moment she’d dressed for her first ball of the official London season. That night, she’d worn a white satin ball gown adorned with seed pearls. She knew it had cost her parents a near fortune to have specially made, but her mother had assured her that no cost would be spared for her daughter’s special day. Since her only

* * *

other child was a son, Albina’s brother, Espen, their mother had enjoyed lavishing beautiful gowns upon her.

Albina felt her throat tighten. Her mother had been gone for nearly seven years and there wasn’t a day that went by that she didn’t miss her.

Her father, while more gruff and severe, was another one that Albina had mourned when he’d passed away only six months later. Her grief had only been another obstacle that had taken a toll on her relationship with Michael. He had lost his parents when he was a child and was taken in by his aunt and uncle. While he had cared for them, as well as the cousins he’d grown up with, he hadn’t understood the closeness that had always been shared by the Waterton family. But after her father died, even that broke apart.

Espen had already been married, so after gaining the title, he chose to move his family from London to the country estate in Kent. Since she was still in London, she only saw him around Christmastime anymore, and that was only briefly. She barely had any sort of relationship with her nieces and nephews. So many times she had considered going to stay for a few days, but she didn’t want to feel like an imposition. And to be perfectly honest, she didn’t want to be that eccentric, spinster aunt who had failed to keep her marriage intact instead.

As Albina regarded her reflection, comparing it to that fateful day so long ago, she wondered what might have happened should Michael not have been at the ball that night. Would things still have turned out as they had? Or would she be married to someone else today?

The very idea made her nauseous, for in her mind, it had always been him. She couldn’t imagine her life with anyone else.

But had he ever wished that his life had taken a different path?