Page 169 of Rogue of My Heart

Strangely enough, though, she didn’t shed a single one, although she was sure that they would have fallen the moment the servant left.

Albina didn’t even know why she was so emotional lately, unless it was the fact she hadn’t been back at Beauley Hall for a full week, and yet, her thoughts about Michael were more twisted and confusing than they had been before she’d left London.

She sat near the fire with a sigh, tucking her legs beneath her like when she was younger, and whenever something had been troubling her. It wasn’t as if the pose made her figure things out any easier, but curling her body together made her feel safe, protected.

* * *

Of course, she’d never had to worry about security, either in London or at Beauley Hall, because Michael had always given her a generous allowance. And since she never wasted it on extreme frivolities or at the gaming tables, she was able to live quite comfortably at Baine House.

While she might attend a ball or two now and again, most of her time was spent writing.

But it was these unsettling musings that made her wonder what Michael did in his spare time. She knew that he looked after his tenants and his estate, but what about the rest of the time? Or like today, when he’d left on a rather secretive errand?

It bothered her to imagine that he did, indeed, have a mistress tucked away somewhere. And since he wasn’t all that forthcoming about where he’d been, it was only natural that she might arrive at the wrong conclusions.

Then, of course, there was that snide comment he’d made on the way out the door, as if he would cause her further problems should he become sick.

She put a hand to her aching head.

Tonight it would probably be best if she just took a dinner tray in her room.

She wasn’t sure she would be good company otherwise.

Michael hesitated at Albina’s bedchamber door, his hand poised to knock.

He didn’t like how they’d left things earlier. He’d lashed out because of his anger, the same way she had when she’d seen the conservatory. The last thing he wanted was for them to be at even bigger odds.

He would even tell her the truth about where he’d been today if that would cease this awful disquiet continuing to run between them. It just seemed as if the turmoil was never ending. They were running in the same circles.

How did one repair something when it continued to break apart?

Slowly, he let his hand fall back to his side.

Michael stared at the hard oak separating him from his wife, as if willing her to open it on the other side. Unfortunately, it remained stubbornly closed.

He shoved a hand through his hair. He knew that sometimes the best thing he could do was leave a hornet’s nest alone, rather than kick it and

* * *

risk getting stung. So, if Albina wanted to talk, he decided it was best to be patient and let her come to him.

It was all he’d done for the past five years.

He’d waited. And prayed. And waited some more.

He was starting to get tired of waiting. He wanted to burst down the door and have it all out in the open, but the only thing that kept him from acting on the impulse was the fear that he would frighten her off to the point where she would be lost to him forever. At least this way, he still held on to that thin thread of hope — the chance — that love could return.

It might continue to tear him up from the inside out, he might rant and rave and curse at the unfairness of it all, to be denied the one true thing he wanted in this life, but if that’s what it took, if he even had to lose his sanity in the process, he would do it.

For her.

Turning on his heel, he clenched his fists and walked away.

Six

A lady must never whine…

Lady A’s Advice Column