Chapter 54

"So tell me, Marietta," he began as they ate, "where is it you come from? Your accent is very refined for a farmer's daughter."
"I come from a small hamlet in Kent," she replied. "The vicar's wife was my mother's dearest friend and I was educated with her daughters."
He studied her as she spoke and saw the tension that crept into her shoulders and the tightening of her lips. He knew there was something, somewhere in her background that had hurt her terribly. Perhaps it was simply that she had loved her husband deeply and never gotten over losing him, but he didn't think that was it. There was something darker, some reason that such a warm woman was so shy when it came to men. "Tell me about your husband, if you would. You said you wed at sixteen? And he was a soldier, was he not?"
"Yes." She stared down at her plate. "Jack was the youngest son of a baron and determined to be a soldier. Six months after our wedding, he was sent to India and I never saw him again."
"You loved him very deeply?" He only hoped the lucky bastard had deserved a woman like Marietta.
"He was my best friend for a little while," she said, a wistful little smile. "He was all smiles and enthusiasm. I was quite swept away, and of course I was sorry he died. He was only twenty."
"I'm very sorry for your loss." That wasn't quite a lie. He was sorry she'd had to suffer, even if he was glad that here and now, she was free. "So what brought you to Devonshire? Do you have family here?"
"There was some - unpleasantness with Jack's family after his passing," she admitted. Her pink cheeks had gone ashy pale. "I felt it was best to remove to a different part of the country."
"What happened?"
"Nothing worth telling," she said. She set her fork down, now not even pretending to eat.
"It is to me," he said simply. He set down his own fork and reached across the table to take her chilly hand in his. "Did they blame you somehow for his death?"
"No. Not at all. His parents barely bothered with their offspring at all, let alone a peasant daughter-in-law. But Jack's older brother is a lot like Alfie Winstead. He honestly believes that being the heir to all he surveys means he owns the people as well. I disliked being cast in the role of poor relation and was even more unwilling to become a plaything. My friend Veronica - one of those vicar's daughters I mentioned - is the headmistress of the charity school here. She offered me a chance to do something useful with my time. I have a small inheritance from my mother's family plus my marriage settlement, so I had the means. I took the opportunity and have never looked back."
Adam felt rage boil low in his gut, burning its way to the surface. He'd heard her words, but more importantly, he'd read between the lines. "He attacked you." He'd have to go find the man and he'd have to kill him - preferably with his bare hands.
"He tried." She pulled her hand from his and picked up her teacup but her shaking hands caused her to slosh more than she sipped. "I was able to hit him with his own whisky bottle, knocking him unconscious. I took the train to London the next morning then arrived on Veronica's doorstep the following day. One of the school's governors is a solicitor. He helped me transfer my funds and made sure no charges were leveled against me back in Kent."
"You amaze me." He drew her hand across the table to kiss it. "Can you ever trust the son of another lord?"
Her smile quivered, but it was a smile nonetheless, and the weight on his shoulders lightened at the sight. "I believe I already have, haven't I? Who is your father, Adam? A marquis? A duke?"
"Merely an earl," he told her, wanting no more secrets between them. "Haverford. His country seat is not too far away - I visit on occasion, particularly if my brother or sister are there with their families."
"So that's where you go when you disappear for a weekend. I presume your brother is the heir?" There was no judgment in her expression, but she'd shifted to be just a bit farther away. She was withdrawing from him based on his parentage, just as he'd feared.
"He is. Alec also has two healthy sons of his own, to further assure I'm never forced to change professions. Our middle brother served with the Light Brigade in the Peninsula."
"I'm sorry." She was quick enough to infer that Arthur had died - as most had in that unit. That slight acknowledgement of grief was enough to draw her back to him, at least partly.
Adam shrugged. "Life moves on. And happiness, of any kind, is fleeting at best. It seems a shame to waste it when an opportunity arises."
Her tiny smile disappeared almost before it was formed and she quirked an eyebrow at him. "Regardless of the cost?"
"No. Costs should be considered. But if the balance is to the good, then why not? I promise, Marietta, that I will never intentionally cause you pain. Regardless of where the future takes the two of us, neither I nor anyone in my family will ever try to abuse you in any way."
"I'd like to believe you," she admitted. "But I'm not sure about anything, Adam. Except that I want you so badly it hurts."
Her words were so softly spoken he barely heard them, but his whole body responded until he was afraid his cock would burst through the front of his trousers. He looked down at his empty plate and wondered if it were too soon to take her up to her bed.
"I'm glad of that," he said carefully, wiping his hands with his napkin. "Are you still hungry?"
"No." She placed her hand in his and stood. He saw her work to muster a smile. "Mrs. Durnst doesn't come tomorrow, so we can leave the dishes until morning."