Page 52 of The Quiet Wife (Stately Scandals #2)

London – Kensington

They walked.

Jemie strode ahead. Lizzie took his arm and refused to relinquish it to Frances, so she walked behind with Alastair.

They paraded about and the feeling of triumph fizzed through him like cheap champagne. And just like cheap champagne, when the fizz subsided, it left him with an awful taste in his mouth. What in God’s name had he done?

He turned to look at the beautiful woman walking behind him. Noting the tension evident around her eyes and mouth. The determination with which she held her head high, all the while knowing what tales would be run back to her husband. What he might do to her when he heard them.

He remembered what his mother said about not giving Frederick Leyland a stick with which to beat his wife.

That was exactly what he had done, he realised with horror.

All because he was in a sulk, because Frances chose with her family and her future in mind, not him, when in reality there was no possible way her choice could be him.

“We should go back,” he murmured, stopping everyone.

Frances glanced at him. “Why?”

“We need to go back. I should never have brought you out here.”

Her smile was brittle. “It’s too late for that. We need to finish our walk as though nothing is wrong.”

He shut up, and they walked for another ten excruciatingly long minutes before reaching the door of the Prince’s Gate house.

Once inside, Frances handed her outer garments to the waiting footman and headed for the parlour, where she ordered tea.

Lizzie and Alastair followed, subdued. Jemie trailed in after them, inconsolable at the mess he had made.

He stood in the door and cleared his throat. “Might I show you something in the dining room whilst we wait for tea?” he suggested.

Frances nodded and left with him. They walked in silence until they reached the damned room, and he opened the door and ushered her in.

“What is it?” Her chin was in the air, lips tight.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I was unfair. I was wrong. I don’t know why you walked with me. Why didn’t you tell me to go and boil my head?”

“Jemie, there is very little in my life that is fair. And there is very little I can do about it. I understand you want my loyalty. Truly I do. But I am not a free woman. I am not free to bestow my loyalty as I would wish. And no amount of tugging at my heartstrings will alter that. I can give you my passion, I can give you my heart. But if that’s not enough for you, I don’t know what to do. ”

He closed his eyes and swallowed before opening them to gaze at her. He couldn’t lose her. His woman. His passion. His love. His Galatea.