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When Mary’s breathing eased to a slow rhythm that implied she had fallen asleep, Drew carefully climbed off the bed. He left the door ajar in case she was sick again.

He went to the chest the decanter stood on and his palms pressed down either side of the silver tray. His head dropped in defeat. That cold, heavy lump of marble in his chest that some people called a heart, kicked.

He had hurt her irrevocably.

She had been stalwart for the last couple of weeks, ignoring his disengagement, and continuing to be kind, even though she spent hardly any time here. But he had started the game of going out. She was simply surviving it – as Caro survived Kilbride’s violence.

She is going to leave… Or certainly her aunt had been urging her to go.

I cannot lose her.

Standing straight, his arms lifted, his fingers clasped behind his neck and his head pressed back. He had a feeling her headache was his fault. He thought she would have stayed with her parents as she felt ill. The fact she did not implied she had come here to escape their urging.

This game of tug of war with her family was tearing her apart.

She had told him to leave her alone, and not to call her sweetheart.

Ah God.

All he had done by shutting her out was to convince her he had never loved her. Of course, she believed that; he treated her horribly now, behaving like the evil bastard people thought him.

Because that is who I am and she would have seen it in the end – she will go now or later.

But, I cannot let her go.

He sighed, his hands fell and he reached for the decanter.

I will make her want to stay.

The dinner arrived at six, and Drew sat down and ate alone. The maid arrived at half past the hour of seven. He sent her away, then settled in the chair where he had spent his nights of late, with the bottle of red wine that was sent up with dinner.

He looked at the chessboard, picked up a pawn and rolled it around in his fingers. In recent evenings he had sauntered around gambling dens alone, not gambling because he refused to waste Mary’s money. But he had wasted hours until he knew Mary would be in bed. Wasting the time he could have spent with the woman he loved.

What the hell was he running from? The chance of a perfect life.

The deeds to Caro’s cottage would be signed over to him in a week and then he planned to move her. He hoped she would be happy there.

And himself? Was he capable of happiness, of making this a good marriage? It was probably too late.

He had convinced himself Mary would find happiness without him. He was unsure of that now. She was deeply unhappy, and he was a heartless bastard, who had brought on her misery.

Neither of us are happy.

He had to try again.

A knock struck the door. He put down the chess piece and glass, and stood. What were the odds it was Marlow, ready to call him out to a duel?

‘Peter?’ Drew’s voice expressed his surprise. It was another man who had good reason to call him out.

Peter’s eyebrows lifted. ‘Are you going to ask me in, or am I no longer welcome?’

‘You may come in, but be quiet, Mary is unwell and sleeping.’ Drew stepped back, holding the door open.

Peter’s hands pressed into his pockets as he entered.

‘Would you like some wine, or brandy?’

Peter sighed. ‘Brandy. I need it. I thought you would send me an apology but you are clearly too pig-headed for that. So, I have come to hear it from your lips.’

Drew poured the brandy in silence and handed the glass to Peter, the image of Peter’s gloved fingers resting on Mary’s back in his head.

Peter’s eyebrows lifted. ‘It was a waltz,’ he said, reading Drew’s thoughts. ‘Before a hundred or more people. It was no insult. None ought to have been taken.’ His free hand rubbed his jaw. ‘Remind me to keep you off my face at Jackson’s, your right hook is a demon. I prefer you on my side. So, will you apologise or am I still to be cut?’

‘I am hardly cutting you, I just poured you a drink.’ Drew dropped into the chair and picked up his wine.

‘But you are still angry with me…’ Peter sat in the chair Drew now thought of as Mary’s. ‘As I thought…’ he added when Drew did not respond. ‘Harry and Mark blame me. They think I broke some law they have invented about touching each other’s wives. I personally think if we are to stay friends, when, if, we settle, we ought to make friends of our friends’ wives, which is what I intended. Clearly, you think her beneath my friendship.’

‘Hardly that.’ Drew stared at Peter.

‘You could have said you were marrying for love of the woman, as much as money. We would not have judged you for it.’

‘Can you imagine, a rake of my reputation falling head over heels for a debutante?’

Peter sighed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he sipped from the glass. ‘Seriously, you are my friend, I would not take her from you. She was anxious, pacing about this room. I merely escorted her to meet her family.’

‘So she said.’

‘But you did not believe her?’

‘Of course I believed her. It was a bad day. I did not have a clear head. You became caught up in it. I am sorry I hit you.’

‘Ah, at last, the apology.’ Peter lifted his glass in the form of a toast. ‘To being friends… And your wife?’

Drew grimaced. ‘Hates me… She is sleeping off a headache in there.’ His hand indicated the bedchamber.

‘I have seen Mary a lot about town, with her family. And before you think it, I have not spoken to her. Your absence has been noted, though. Society thinks your marriage is on the rocks.’

‘It is no one else’s business.’

‘I am merely saying what I hear. It is not my opinion. Where have you been?’

A bitter sound of amusement broke from Drew’s throat. ‘Here, there and nowhere, and tonight I am here because my conscience has been kicked. She is leaving me, I think. I overheard her aunt persuading her to go.’

‘You will let that happen…? Have you been holding on to this stupid grudge against the both of us for dancing one dance?’

Drew ran a hand through his hair, then dropped it. ‘It is not that.’

Peter emptied his glass, stood and walked over to the decanter. He brought it back with him and put that and his glass on the games table. ‘Does she know you love her?’

‘She does not believe it. I have a certain reputation, you see…’

‘And a temper, and a streak of pig-headedness as strong as iron.’ Peter leaned down suddenly, pressing a hand on either arm of the chair Drew sat in, looking Drew in the eyes. ‘What do you think of Kilbride?’

‘What?’ Drew looked at Peter with bewilderment.

‘Do you approve of his behaviour towards Caro?’

‘Of course not. You know I do not.’

‘Then what the hell are you doing?’

‘What…?’ Drew had no idea what Peter meant.

‘Have you taken her anywhere since that fracas?’

Drew took a breath, but he was not explaining to Peter how unlovable he felt himself. ‘She has her family.’

Peter pushed off the chair and straightened. ‘And a husband with a will of iron. You, more than most, should know how painful silence can be. As painful as violence, perhaps. I have watched it change you over the years. You hide its impact, but it hurts.’

Drew would have stood, but Peter pushed him back into the chair. ‘I have no desire to fight you, and I am not touching the subject of your family, but you should know that I know how you feel. Do not destroy what you have with this woman. She loves you. It screamed from her the night I came here. She was afraid for you, and making excuses for you, when I presumed you had charged off in a rage.’

Drew did not deny it.

‘I hate you, when you’re like this ,’ she had said earlier.

Everything Peter said was endorsed by the words Mary and her aunt had thrown at him earlier.

‘I am well aware of the mess I have made of things,’ Drew said. ‘I was sitting here mulling it over when you arrived.’

Silence was equal to violence. Had he been that dreadful? But it was true.

Drew drank his glass of wine.

Peter reached for the decanter, filled his glass and retook his seat. ‘Anyway, I have said my piece, but to be clear, I am not surprised Mary is thinking of deserting you.’

Drew smiled, his lips stiff. ‘Yet you have never deserted me.’

‘There are times I have thought about it.’ He smiled. ‘Your stubbornness would test any friendship.’

Drew laughed.

‘I saw Caro the other night,’ Peter said.

‘I am buying her a house,’ Drew told him. ‘I hope to smuggle her away in secret next week. At least it means some good will have come from my marriage, if Mary’s money means Caro is safely settled.’