Page 73 of A Momentary Marriage

“Hardly like Lazarus, since I was not yet dead. I’m fine.” He wasn’t; he was exhausted and sore, and his head was throbbing, but there was no need to tell her that. “I’m sorry, I haven’t the time to chat. I must speak to Laura.”

“But, dear, she’s gone.”

“Gone!” It hit him like a blow to the chest. Laura had left him.

“Yes, she went home with Mirabelle and the others.” She frowned faintly. “Now I’m not sure of the number for dinner. Ah, well, Simpson will manage, no doubt.”

“Damn Simpson,” James said bluntly. Laura had gone running to Graeme. “Is she—did she say if she’d return?”

His mother looked at him oddly. “If she’d return! James, whatever is the matter? You look white as a sheet. I knew you shouldn’t have gone riding!” Tessa linked her arm through his and steered him toward his study. “Come and sit down, dear. I’ll ring for tea. No, maybe a brandy would be in order.”

She directed him to a chair and bustled about, pouring a healthy dose of brandy into a glass and thrusting it into his hand. As he gulped down the liquor, Tessa shut the door and turned back to him. “Now. Tell me what is going on. What is the matter? This isn’t just from your riding out, is it? Why did you say ‘if she’d return’? Why wouldn’t she? Oh, James.” Tessa sank gracefully down onto her knees beside his chair and looked into his face. “What have you done?”

He intended to make his usual sort of sardonic remark, asking why she would assume he was the cause of the problem, but instead, he looked away from his mother’s sympathetic face and said, “I’ve ruined everything.”

“Surely not.” Tessa took his hand in both hers. “Laura is a sweet girl. Whatever you’ve done, I am sure she hasn’t left you. She didn’t take any of her dresses, and no woman runs away without her clothes. Laura will forgive you. You haven’t—was it one of the maids?”

“What?” He glanced at her, startled. “Good God, no. I haven’t been sporting with a parlor maid.”

“I didn’t think you would, but men can do the most foolish things. Especially when they’re in a jealous temper. Did you shout at her?”

“No! Honestly, Mother, what do you think of me? And I’m not jealous.”

“Of course not, dear.” She patted his hand. “Then what did you argue about?”

“We didn’t argue. One cannot argue with Laura. She simply answers you calmly, then does whatever she likes.“

“I know.” Tessa sighed. “People like that are so irritating, aren’t they? Just when you want a good healthy storm, they’re doggedly agreeable. Mirabelle is like that.”

“I didn’t want a storm, healthy or otherwise.” He frowned.

“No, it doesn’t seem like you, but when a man’s in love—”

“I’m not in love.” James shot to his feet and strode away. Setting his glass down with a thunk, he stood for a moment, looking down at it, his finger circling the rim. “It was Graeme you meant, wasn’t it? When you said I was jealous. You think she’s still in love with him.”

“Dearest, Laura would never—”

“I’m not worried about that—” He stopped, then sighed. “We didn’t expect me to live, you see. When Laura agreed to marry me, we thought it would end soon and that she would be free. I didn’t intend to trap her, but that’s what happened.”

“She wants to be free? To leave you?”

“She doesn’t say so. Laura always makes the best of things. And I’ve kept to our bargain . . . mostly. Until today.”

“Dearest, what did you do?” His mother’s voice rose in alarm. “Surely you did not—”

“I didn’t force myself on her, if that’s what you’re about to ask. I’m not quite a brute, at least not yet. But—oh, the devil—I cannot talk about this with you.”

His mother laughed. “Surely you don’t think you will shock me. I do have some knowledge of men.”

“Well, Laura does not. She’s an innocent. A lady.”

“She’s a woman, James. I’m sure she will forgive you if you were a little . . . overeager, shall we say?”

“You know I’m no good at apologies.” James grimaced. He ached for Laura’s forgiveness, but the thought of asking her for it filled him with dread. It always seemed as if the guiltier he felt, the harder it was to force the words out, and he invariably sounded stiff and insincere. And with Laura—well, with Laura it mattered. What if she looked at him coldly and turned away? “Besides, what can I say to her? I already broke my promise, then swore not to do so again—and I still couldn’t hold to it. She’ll never believe me.”

“Then you’ll just have to prove it to her. Honestly, James, if anyone can control himself, it is you.”

“I would have thought so. But I can’t think straight anymore. Blast it, I’m terrible at all this. I don’t have the first idea what to do.”