Page 36 of His Scandalous Viscountess
“Which is why you love me.”
The words flew out into the companionable moment, utterly crushing their comradery. She looked as surprised as a debutante caught kissing her beau.
Needing to dispel the awkwardness, he winked. “It may or may not be one of the reasons I tolerate you.”
His heart ceased beating as he waited for her to react to his taunt.
“Tolerate me? You always were a brute.”
She let her mock outrage carry her past the moment.
Then his heart returned to its regular state of beating, and their conversation carried on as they discussed their childhoods. But what hereallywanted to know was more about the woman she’d become.
By the time they reached the outer edges of London, where the city gave way to countryside, and the Thames carved through green grass instead of cobblestone streets, they had fallen into a comfortable silence once again. When he reached the spot where the river curved and a thatch of trees created a hideaway nestled between the banks of the river, Wolf was more than ready to eat…possibly more than just the picnic lunch he’d brought.
They spread out the blanket along the bank of the river. The sun-soaked day was warm enough that he stripped off his coat and left it in the phaeton. With the basket settled between them, Jules immediately set about unpacking their feast. She pulled out cured meats and bread, a bottle of wine, and even an assortment of delectable fruits, all the while chatting about some of the foods she’d tasted while living abroad. By the time they’d eaten their fill, he had shared some of his own—far more limited—food experiences.
Satiated, he leaned back on his elbows and let the warmth soak in to his clothes. “It sounds as though you enjoyed the last ten years outside of England.”
She stretched out on her back, letting her hair fall loose around her shoulders, to spread out over the blanket. “I did. As much as I detested Wallthorpe, I equally relished the freedom and independence that came after he died. I loved seeing India, and then Arabia. It was fascinating to see how women were treated in other cultures. In some ways, I had far more freedom in those lands, and in others, far less.”
“And now? Are you happy to be home?”
A sick feeling burbled in his stomach as he waited for her response. If she wasn’t happy in England, then she would leave again, eventually.
She turned her face toward him and smiled. “Strangely—despite young Wallthorpe and my parents—I find Iamquite happy.” She hesitated then, glancing at him with a vulnerability that only reinforced his desire for her. “I wasn’t sure, at first. I thought perhaps I had made a mistake in returning, but as old friendships have been renewed and new ones discovered, I am finding myself quite satisfied to be here.”
Contentment like he’d never known filtered in through all the self-doubt and self-recrimination he’d heaped on himself over the years. Between his father’s anger and animosity, and his own, he hadn’t been truly happy—let alone content—in over a decade.
Not since he had left for school. That was the year everything had changed for him.
“I wonder if I had intervened with Wallthorpe, if things would have turned out differently for us. Maybe we’d be happily married now, and raising two children.”
She raised up on one elbow and angled herself so she could see him better. “Do not think such things. Had we tried to run, Wallthorpe would have made his son’s pursuit of me look like child’s play. If I learned nothing else in the short time I was married, it was that my husband was a relentless and mean monster. I can tell you now that there is nothing he wouldn’t have done to secure me, like some prized broodmare. I was simply a trophy to mount on his wall, along with all the others he’d collected over the years.”
Wolf grunted in response. He had his doubts, but then, he had not been the man he was today back then. If he had, he would have just whisked Jules away and married her. It was a regret he had learned to shoulder, though the burden seemed to have grown heavier since their renewed intimacy. “Was your time with him so awful?”
She sighed. “It was far from pleasant. I was a shell of myself with him.”
He closed his eyes tight and asked the question he’d needed to know the answer to for a long time. He had his suspicions, based on things she’d said, but he needed confirmation. “Did he hurt you physically?”
Jules shifted, sitting up and angling herself slightly away from him. “Does it matter? I have moved past my unwanted marriage. Can you not?”
He sat up and scooted to sit just behind her. “Yes, it matters. If you suffered,itmatters…becauseyoumatter.”
He pressed a kiss to the skin exposed where her neck and shoulder joined. She shivered despite the warm spring day, but he didn’t know if it was a reaction to his touch, or to the subject at hand.
Her voice dropped then, her tone low and haunted. “I was a smart woman, possiblytoosmart. He only beat me twice in the year we were married.” She stopped, drew a breath, and seemed to pull herself together. “The first time was on our wedding night, for some perceived infraction. He determined I was behaving lewdly when I groaned, because he had hurt me as he took my virginity. I sometimes wonder if I had explained that he hurt me, instead of letting him believe I was enjoying his attentions, whether he might not have hit me. But then I remind myself if it hadn’t been then, it would have come soon after. It was merely an excuse to do as he wished. He beat me so badly, I remained in bed with poultices on my back for days.”
Wolf growled, his hands clenched into useless fists.
“After that, I studied him. I learned his moods, and what his triggers were. Mostly I avoided confrontations with him. When I couldn’t, I simply gave in and apologized to keep the peace. He slapped me a few times, and pinched me often enough, if he thought I was being too chatty or not responsive enough, but mostly I managed to keep his temper at bay. And it worked for almost a year.” She drew a shuddering breath that rattled both her and him. “But then he grew restless, antsy even. I wasn’t sure what the issue was, but I could tell he was agitated and spoiling for a fight. I knew there would be no avoiding the argument, and no placating him. That was the day he died.”
She licked her lips as though she were parched, but pressed on before he could offer her a sip of wine. “He decided the house we were living in was unkempt, and that I had failed in my duties as the mistress of his domain. I apologized, and promised him I would try harder. Do better. But none of it mattered. He came at me, slapped me across the face, and shoved me onto the couch in the study.” She trembled, her gaze glassy, and her focus somewhere else. “He hovered over me, raising his riding crop high above him. Then, instead of lashing at my back with the weapon, he simply seized up and keeled over.”
Shaken to his very core by what she’d told him, Wolf wrapped his arms around her and pressed her into his chest. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.”
A mirthless laugh escaped her, sharp and a little bitter. “I wasn’t yourstoprotect. That was the job of my parents, but they failed in that one task. They failedme. And what makes me so angry now is that they refuse to acknowledge that fact.” She turned into his arms and faced him, tucking her head against his chest as she practically sat in his lap. “When I first told them what had happened on our wedding night, they refused to accept the truth. So I peeled my dress down in their dining room and showed them the healing marks from the beating. And do you know what they said to me?”
