Page 84 of Atone, Adonis

She didn’t have those things now though so she was going to have to parse out her feelings without them. She’d known before she left Dorset what she’d wanted to say to her brother. He’d gone too far by pushing her into a cold marriage bed and then having the audacity to be hurt when she’d married Fred. And worse, jealous of the time they’d spent together before Tom had gone to the sanatorium. But it had been, all in all, a fairly easy conversation. She’d said her piece, he’d agreed and apologized, and they’d had some tea.

But Fred was different. He was her husband, not her brother. And she’d fallen in love with him, while he’d done nothing but keep secrets from her.

But, also, he had a world of hurt he’d kept shut up inside for too many years. All that pain had been eating away at him, distorting his view of the world and himself. She’d been so intent on the lie, on hating Chester, on trying to protect herself from being hurt again like Robert had hurt her, that she hadn’t been fair to him.

There was a sinking feeling in her stomach that told her she needed to go and find Fred. She needed to apologize.

She was still mulling that over when a knock came at the door.

Supper, she thought and rose to answer it, smoothing down the wrinkles in her gown as she went. She wasn’t certain she had an appetite but she would try. She did need to eat more, as Fred was always telling her.

Except, when she opened the door, it wasn’t the innkeeper standing before her. It was her husband in just his shirt sleeves and waistcoat, holding a tray laden with food.

“I’ve brought your supper, Jules.”

To which she could only reply, “What?”

“I’ve brought your supper. Shall I set it down for you?”

“I—”

She didn’t finish that sentence though. She could see well enough his arms were straining under the overflowing tray. She ignored the way the effort made his muscles show themselves beneath his shirtsleeves as she stepped aside to let him in.

“I don’t know how the footmen do this in livery, honestly,” he said as he set the tray down on the little table and turned to her.

“You do seem to have forgotten your coat.”

“I tried, Jules. But I couldn’t carry the tray in the damn thing. It’s cut too exactingly for that kind of movement.”

She felt the side of her mouth quirking up into a smile. Only Fred would have a coat cut so closely to his frame that he couldn’t lift his arms properly to carry a tray. “What are you doing here, Fred?”

“Bringing you roasted beef, not as good as Simpson’s-on-the-Strand certainly, but I hope you’ll like it. A bit of the best bread I could find. And Eva’s favorite broth.”

Julianna felt her brows furrow again. “You had them make the broth?”

“Oh, no.” A faint red color seeped into his cheeks. “I don’t think the innkeeper would have taken kindly to me giving instructions to his wife.”

“No, of course not.” It had been a silly thing to think. And even sillier for her heart to have trilled at the idea of him standing down in the kitchens, directing the chef what to make for her.

“No, I paid them handsomely so I could make it myself.”

“You did what? Fred, you needn’t have.”

“I’m aware. I did it because I wanted to. I didn’t know how else to tell you, Jules, how sorry I am. Except to show you.”

“Sit and eat with me,” she said, glancing down at the tray. “There is certainly more than enough for…Fred…there’s enough here for an army.”

Fred arched an eyebrow. “An army? There’s barely enough for us both, I think.”

She found herself wanting to smile again, so she tipped her chin slightly to hide it. She didn’t want to be flippant about this. She wanted to be calm and steady. She didn’t want to push him so far that she had to converse with Chester instead of Fred. But she would, she thought. Because Chester was a part of him too.

And then she returned her gaze to him very deliberately. “I was very angry at you,” she began while he uncovered the two bowls of broth.

“I’m aware.” He held out one of the bowls to her. “And you were right to be. Drink this, Jules.”

She took the bowl from his hands and let the soothing scent of herbs and stock waft up into her nose. “It smells delicious.”

“Taste it.”