Rhys stepped a little closer. “No?”
She shrugged. “I had convinced myself I cared for Erasmus at the start. And I didn’t hate being his wife for a while. But I’d realized around the same time that he was impregnating his lover that I’d made a mistake. I’d realized he wasn’t the man I thought him to be, nor the one I wanted him to be. And he didn’t care enough to change.” She lifted her hands in surrender. “And now, of course, I see the full breadth of why. I was just a tool, a weapon that provided him with more money and more time in his schemes.”
“Again, his failing, not yours,” Rhys said.
“Isn’t it?” she whispered.
He was close enough to touch her, and she knew he would even before he did. His fingers traced her jawline, almost a feather-light stroke. As if he made it soft enough they could pretend it wasn’t happening. That the line wasn’t being crossed.
“You never failed,” he said. “He was a fool not to look at you and worship you and fight to keep you at his side. An utter and complete fool.”
His head dipped as he said the words, and she lifted into him even though she knew she shouldn’t. Their mouths met, this time gently rather than with animal passion as they had earlier in the day. He brushed his mouth back and forth over hers as his fingers curled around her biceps and he tugged her just a little closer still.
She heard herself moan. A soft sound of surrender and she parted her lips slightly. Now it was he who groaned in response and his tongue edged past the barrier. She reveled in the taste of him, in the warmth of him, in the way that just this stolen touch woke sensations in her that she hadn’t ever felt before. Made her want things she’d never fully understood. He was a brave new world, she wanted to explore every inch of it without fear.
But he wouldn’t allow it. Just as he had by the lake, he caught his breath and stepped away. He released her, dragging a hand through his hair as he pivoted to walk to the fire, his shoulders lifting with panting.
“You are right that we are the only two who understand this situation,” he gasped out. “And if we…blur those lines…” He faced her and shook his head. “I don’t want confusion to cause pain, Phillipa. You have suffered more than enough of that these last few months…years.”
Embarrassment wracked her, though he hadn’t been anything but kind in his rejection. Both times.
“O-of course,” she replied, hating herself for the stammer that revealed too much. “We are both overwrought, both overwhelmed. This will not happen again, my lord. I’ll leave you.”
She moved to do just that, but he stepped toward her. “Phillipa.”
She stopped, gripping her hands at her sides as she waited for whatever he would say next. “Yes?”
“I do wish to be your friend,” he said. “You have called me Rhys a handful of times, and I’d like for you to continue to do so.”
This was an olive branch. Some kind of way for her to see that he didn’t judge her as harshly as she judged herself. A kindness offered and yet it stung.
“You already call me Phillipa thanks to the fact that there were three Mrs. Montgomerys in London,” she said. “I’m fine if you continue calling me that.”
“Not Pippa?” he asked.
She bit her lip. Her friends called her Pippa, that was true. She thought of herself the same way. And yet she liked the way he said her full name. She liked that he was the only one who did that. She liked the way it made her legs clench and her breath catch.
“The longer name, the more formal name…perhaps it helps us keep up those lines that we cannot cross,” she said. Lied. She lied. “And now I will find Mr. Barton and have him show you to your chamber. A rest will do us both good and clear our heads for all the decisions that must be made regarding the future.” She shook her head. “Kenley’s future. That is the most important thing now.”
She left the room without waiting for his response. She didn’t want whatever he said to distract her from that declaration that put the stakes in terms she couldn’t forget. Whatever her desire for the man in the room behind her, her duty was to a child who could not advocate for himself.
And she could never ignore that.
Chapter 7
Pippa woke early, as she always did. Even when she regularly attended her father’s assembly until the wee hours, she’d still woken with the sun. She liked being the first one awake in the quiet, able to think without interruptions or distractions.
Last night, of course, she had not attended an assembly. She’d been here in her little house, tucked in and quiet after a delicious supper. The only thing different about this night than a dozen nights before it was that Rhys had been sitting across her at that supper, and in the parlor afterward.
It had all been extremely appropriate, of course. After that last kiss in the study, he had been nothing but proper. Formal, even. They had discussed Kenley’s day-to-day schedule, the weather, a book they’d both enjoyed.
It all felt like tension. Like putting up blinders to what was happening beneath the surface. But this was how it had to be, so surrendering to it was exactly what had to happen.
Now, though, as she roamed the quiet halls of the small house, she tried not to let her mind wander to darker thoughts. Deeper needs and wants. To dreams about Rhys that she could not seem to control.
“Good morning, Mrs. Montgomery.”
She jumped and turned to face Mrs. Barton, who had stepped from the breakfast room to greet her. “Good morning,” she said, and was glad her tone sounded normal when her heart was racing.
“I hope you slept well,” Mrs. Barton said. “Will you need anything this morning?”
“Oh, no. You and Mr. Barton take care of your duties, I’m fine. I’m going to Mr. Montgomery’s study.” As Mrs. Barton’s face fell, Pippa shrugged. “We have to go through his things at some point. The future will come—we must be prepared for it.”
Mrs. Barton worried her hands before her. “Do you have any idea what we can expect of that future? What Lord Leighton has in mind?”
Pippa hesitated. “We have not yet had a long discussion on that topic,” she admitted. “But I can tell you that his lordship is a man who can be trusted. I believe he acts in good faith, toward all of us. But I know the uncertainty is uneasy, so I will inform you as soon as I have further news.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Mrs. Barton said. “Very good.”
The housekeeper gave a nod as Pippa headed up the hall to the study. As she entered, she let her breath out in a long sigh. She’d seen the hesitation on her housekeeper’s face. Mrs. Barton had doubted her when she spoke of Rhys’s character.
And why not? After all, she had once believed in Erasmus.
“But it wasn’t the same,” she whispered. And that was true. Her connection with Erasmus had always been built on…uncertainty. She’d thought him a free spirit. He’d show up when he pleased, surprise her with gifts or expectations that she would drop everything to do as he desired. Even after their marriage, she’d never fully been able to get a handle on who and what he was.
Much to her own detriment in the end.