Judith’s face hardened. “Cam, you don’t have to speak to him if you don’t wish to. You heard the solicitor. It was one thing to stay with him when you had no choice. But your chances at an annulment will be best if you keep yourselves as separate as possible from this point onward.”
Eventually, she would have to tell her sister what Adrian meant to her and what she truly wanted from him.
For now, she settled for a shake of her head. “Don’t talk of him that way. You cannot understand how vulnerable I was when we were wed. There is not a better man in the entirety of England.”
Judith just looked at her. “If you want to get an annulment, you shouldn’t say things like that. People will take it amiss.”
Now was not the point where she wanted to explain. “Just this once won’t hurt. We’ve worked together this long; he deserves to have me personally explain what is happening. Please convey to him that I’ll be there as soon as I’m able.”
It was torture to finish the fitting; she was scolded three times for not being able to stand still. She could hardly help it; her heart was beating so. She could scarcely control the hopeful, involuntary clench of her hand. Her entire being wavered between delight that he’d arrived, and anger that he hadn’t told her about his uncle.
He’d made her believe he’d chosen her. He’d told her that she deserved better and then not given it to her.
“Are you sure?” Judith said as the maids bundled Camilla into a day gown at the end of the fitting. “I’ll come sit with you. You shouldn’t be alone with a man. Your reputation—”
“Oh, for God’s sake.” Camilla rolled her eyes. “What reputation? I’ve spent the last nine years of my life having no reputation to speak of. I am about to get a marriage annulled publicly.”
“I’m just trying to help.”
Camilla reached over and patted her sister’s shoulder. “I appreciate it. Really, I do. You can help by telling me if my hair looks presentable.”
“It’s lovely, but Camilla—”
There was nothing for it. She’d been too long without an older sister; she couldn’t let Judith smother her, not already.
“You can help,” Camilla said, “by believing that in the years that have passed, I really have learned what’s best for myself. I’m going to talk to Adrian alone, and you’re going to let me do it.”
Judith looked at her a long moment, then sighed and looked away. “Yes,” she finally said. “I’m sorry. I just have so many years of care I’ve wanted to give you. It’s hard not to give it all at once.”
From the other side of the room, Camilla was aware of Theresa watching her intently. She hadn’t spoken much beyond greetings. She’d actually seemed a little shy, which was odd, given how forward her letter was.
Camilla nodded. “I’ll introduce you after we’ve spoken.” She paused, tapping her lips. “One last thing about Mr. Hunter. I don’t know if Theresa has mentioned it.”
Theresa straightened, her eyes widening.
“What has Theresa to do with Mr. Hunter?”
Camilla looked in her sister’s eyes. “Adrian is of African descent. If you in any way treat him as inferior because of that, I will walk out of this house and never speak to you again. I mean it. I may be annulling my marriage, but I know what it’s like to be looked down upon. Don’t do it.”
Judith blinked. She did not speak for a moment. She looked down at her hands and then over at Camilla. “Well, I suppose it’s best that we’ve all come down this path. I have not lived here all the time you’ve been gone. We used to live near the docks; I knew a great many people then that I’d never have been introduced to otherwise.” She shrugged. “I’ll still fight him if he hurts you.”
Camilla exhaled. “I’m going to see him.”
“This isn’t what I assumed, is it?”
Camilla didn’t answer. Instead, she let the maid guide her to the parlor where her quasi-husband waited. She found him pacing in front of the mantel, hands on his hips. He turned to her.
The last time they’d spoken, they’d been in the same bed. They hadn’t had so much as a sheet between them. They’d been bare and naked and… And, oh, God, how had she forgotten?
He’d healed her and hurt her, all in the same moment. She could feel that hurt inside her like bruises in her chest, aching every time she drew breath.
Maybe he was remembering the same thing, because he didn’t approach her. He just stopped next to the mantel, watching her with an unreadable expression on his face.
“Hullo, Cam,” he finally said. “How are you?”
“Is that a polite ‘how are you,’ or a legitimate inquiry into my feelings?” She felt as if she were made of ice. “It’s lovely that you remembered that I have them. A bit tardy, but lovely.”
“Ah,” he said in an annoyingly steady tone of voice. “You’re a little angry. It’s simply smashing that you can express your feelings aloud, clearly, in words face-to-face. I find that communication works best when we use words to say precisely what we mean, instead of leaving in the middle of the night with nothing to say where you’d gone except a note that might not be found for hours.”
“I also believe in communication.” She took a step toward him. “For instance, here are some words you might have said yesterday: ‘My uncle won’t grant us an annulment, so let’s have sexual intercourse out of desperation.’”
“It wasn’t like that. You know it wasn’t like that.”
“You’re right.” Her hands went to her hips. “I’m sure you could have chosen other words in the moment. I would have accepted any words from you, in fact, except using no words at all.”
“This is not all my fault. You didn’t seem to be in a terrible hurry to stop and talk in the moment.”
“No,” Camilla said. “I admit as much. I was stupid with hope. I thought you had actually chosen to love me of your own free will. Don’t worry; I blame myself for not asking as much as I blame you for not telling.”
She could see the moment he understood how she must have felt.
His mouth slowly opened. The annoyance dropped from his stance. He took a step toward her. “Oh, Cam.”
She hated that they were friends. She hated that she loved him. She hated that he could say those two words, just like that, and all she wanted was to sit next to him and weep on his shoulder.
He reached a hand out tentatively in her direction, but when she didn’t lean toward him in response, he let it drop. “I’m so sorry. At the time I was thinking that if I didn’t tell you, it wouldn’t hurt you. You’ve been through so much. It was just one more thing for me to bear.”
She shook her head. “I never want to be that one more thing for you to endure. Do you understand me?”
“Yes.”
She hated most of all that the feelings she had been trying to ignore—the anger, the hope, the heartbreak, the joy turned to ash—bubbled over in that moment, stinging her eyes. She’d been holding the pieces of herself together through the night, through her journey, through a bath and her sister and a solicitor.
Her life had changed irrevocably, and there wasn’t a person in it who she knew well enough to share her vulnerability. No one but Adrian.
She hated that she cried so easily. She hated that her eyes stung now. “I’m sorry I left the way I did, with only a note. I just thought that if I waited for you to wake up, I would never be able to leave you.”
He took another step toward her, then another, and then she was in his arms, her head pressed against his chest, his arms around her.
His hand stroked her hair. He leaned down and whispered in her ear.
“Cam. I’m sorry.”
She hated that he absorbed her tears. That he was the wall she could lean against, that he didn’t think her weak or stupid. She hated that he understood every bitter tear that she shed.
“What were you thinking?” she sobbed.
“Not very much,” he admitted. “I was hurt. I felt betrayed by my uncle. I…??
? His voice trailed off. “You know I’ve…wanted you for a while now. I wasn’t thinking of you as one more burden. After the conversation with my uncle, I thought of you as something close to salvation, and I didn’t want to delay any longer.”
She couldn’t keep the affection out of her voice. “We are rather lucky that out of all the millions of people in England, chance forced the two of us together.”
He continued to pet her hair. “You’re the best wife I’ve ever married at gunpoint.”
“Shut up,” Camilla said through her tears. “We cannot hold ourselves out as married. You know that.”
“So…your sister thinks she can still do something about that annulment? After last night?”
Camilla nodded. “I haven’t told her about last night. And you did say that the doctors can’t really tell if I’m a virgin.”
He just pulled her closer. “Do you want this? Do you really want this?”
He should have asked her that last night. Camilla wrinkled her nose. “You have undoubtedly put my hair in disarray. It was curled before.”
“It looks pretty to me.”
“I need to blow my nose.”
He handed her a handkerchief.
“Still pretty,” he told her, after she’d made an embarrassing noise. “So, I assume that if your sister is willing to help you, that she cares about you, then.”
Camilla nodded again.
“Good,” he said. “You deserve it.”
Another breath; his arms were still around her. Camilla smiled. “I do, don’t I? I deserve this.” She looked up at him. “I deserve this. I deserve to know that I was chosen. That the man who married me adored me above all others. I deserve a slow falling in love.”
He let out a little huff of laughter. “You know, the first time I told you that… I have to admit it may have been entirely self-serving on my part. I wanted you to believe it so that I wouldn’t have to fight you about getting an annulment.”
He was still holding her, and she couldn’t help but smile. “I know. I realized it at the time.”
“I wish I had been a little less self-serving then. That I’d thought a little more about you.”
She shook her head. It took her a moment to collect her thoughts. “I don’t. It never mattered to me that you were being self-serving. Most other men in your position wouldn’t have told me I deserved more than I had received. They would have told me I deserved less. That I was unmarriageable. Unwantable, even.” She inhaled and pulled away far enough to look him in the eye. “It says a lot about you, that your way of serving yourself was to tell me I was worthwhile.”
“That sounds like a compliment.”
“We’re all self-serving.” Camilla shrugged. “It’s just a matter of what we do to others in service of ourselves.”
“So.” Adrian’s hand stroked her hair. “You want an annulment?”
“I want a choice,” she clarified. “I want to choose and be chosen.”
“They’ll interview us,” Adrian said. “They’ll ask if we’ve ever had intercourse. And if either of us say that we did…that will most likely be the end of it. No annulment. You understand that?”
“I do.”
He tipped her chin up. “Are you asking me to lie under oath?”
Her heart was breaking. Her voice quivered. She looked up at him and told him the truth. “Yes?”
“If you want it, then I’ll do it. You know how bad I am at lying. I’ll practice. Grayson will have to help. But…” He hadn’t looked away from her. His finger was still on her chin. His thumb came up, brushing her lips.
“But what?”
“But nothing.” His arm tightened around her, and then he kissed her.
Her mind had not expected it. It went blank. Her body, though… Oh, her body had known. It had been wanting his lips against hers ever since he’d put his arms around her. No; ever since she’d seen him standing next to the mantel.
Her stupid body believed they belonged together, and before her mind could take the reins and demand that he give up this idiocy, her body rushed forward. Her hands crept around his neck. Her mouth opened to him. She pressed herself against him, giving herself into his kiss. Their tongues touched, gently at first, then with desperation.
The last remnants of anger faded into something softer. She was still stupid with hope.
This might be the last time they would kiss.
But he pulled away first, and when she brushed up on tiptoe to continue, he set his finger against her nose, stopping her. “That was also self-serving.”
She found herself blushing. “Your self-serving nature suits me.”
They stared at each other. His finger was still on her nose. He looked down at her, his eyes sparkling, and then…
Then he smiled.
“Lie about that, Cam,” he said. “Lie about the times I touched you. Lie about the night we shared together.”
His finger dragged down her nose and tapped her lips. He leaned down an inch until his nose brushed hers. She could feel the heat of him. Her heart beat heavily.
“Lie to whomever you want,” he said quietly. “Just don’t forget that it happened.”
No. His skin was imprinted on hers. She’d never be able to step into the morning sunlight without thinking of his smile. She let out a shaky breath and found herself grinning.
“I see how it is now. ‘I’m so sorry, Cam’ didn’t last very long, did it?”
His mouth tilted into a smile. “Well.” He sounded just a little too self-satisfied. “I am incredibly sorry about hurting you. I’m not in the least bit sorry about the rest of it. I would do all of the rest of that again as often as you wanted it.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” She pulled away from him. “I still want the annulment. I still want to be chosen.” Her heart pounded, and she hoped he understood.
“Well.” He exhaled. “You know what would be helpful if we were to obtain an annulment?”
Ah. Here it came. “The solicitor said that it would probably be best if we did not see each other until after the proceedings.” She didn’t want to. She had grown so used to seeing him every day. “He told me to tell you that if you had something to tell me, you should send it to him. We don’t want to make it look like…”
“Like we’re friends?” he asked.
“They’ll call it collusion. That’s what the solicitor said. I hate it. I hate it. I know your uncle wouldn’t acknowledge you, and if it will bother you too much, I’ll tell them no—”
“Hush.” He set a finger on her lips. “I asked you to do far more distasteful things for this damned annulment. I can manage silence. And that wasn’t what I was going to say. I was going to say that it would be very useful for us to have all that paperwork we obtained. The affidavits. The accounts. Everything that sets forth the motive in question.” Adrian gave her an easy smile.
“But you gave it all to your uncle, didn’t you?”
“Well.” He shrugged. “The affidavits will be easy enough to have redone. But it wouldn’t be hard for me to get the rest. I could walk into his office and take it.”
She stared at him. “Your uncle—you’d just walk into his office and steal the materials? I can’t ask you do that for me.”
He smiled. “You don’t have to ask.” He reached out and took hold of her hand. “You want us to have a choice, don’t you? Let me go get us one.”
* * *
Theresa was seated on her divan when Judith walked in.
There had been no time to explain what had happened since Camilla’s arrival; Judith had sent for solicitors and seamstresses. It wasn’t until now, with supper almost upon them, that she’d had a spare moment.
Theresa managed a little smile. “Happy birthday, Judith.”
Judith sat next to her. Her expression was… Very hard to read. Her eyes were narrowed; her eyebrows made angry dark lines.
“Camilla mentioned that you knew about Mr. Hunter just now. She seemed to think that we had been e
xpecting her. Theresa, what is going on? How did you get her direction? Why didn’t you tell me you were in contact with her?”
Oh. Theresa’s heart hurt just a little bit. She hadn’t managed to do it right after all. She was going to get scolded again. Everyone was always telling her to think before she did something rash, and she had thought this time. She had thought a great deal.
If by think before you act, people meant think what we want you to think, Theresa wished they would just say so. It would make everything so much easier.
Only now that she knew Judith was going to be angry could she see how she’d misunderstood. It was entirely one thing to obtain a present like gloves in secret. It was another to hunt down a missing sister, to withhold what she had learned when she knew Judith was so desperate for information.
Sisters were not gloves; she ought to have known.
In her defense, at the time it had all made complete sense to her.
“I didn’t have her direction,” Theresa said. “I wasn’t in contact with her. It was Mr. Hunter’s brother who delivered the letter.”
Judith just frowned at this. “But how did you know of Mr. Hunter?”
Theresa looked away. It hurt too much to try and look in Judith’s eyes, and never mind that it made her look guilty not to meet her eyes. She felt guilty.
“Because we found her wedding in the marriage registry?” The we slipped out before she had a chance to think it through, and then she really was in a tearing panic. She really hadn’t meant to get Benedict in trouble, too.
“The marriage registry?”
“The one at the General Register Office,” Theresa admitted. “I…may have lied to you about the whereabouts of…Benedict and myself...for the last handful of weeks?” She scrunched in on herself, feeling like one of her cats. She’d dragged in a mouse and had expected praise for her prowess as a hunter.
“And so you found Mr. Hunter at the General Register Office?” Judith’s voice was shaking. “I don’t understand.”
It was like they spoke two separate languages. No matter how hard Theresa tried to make herself understood, she always failed.
She glanced up. Judith was still staring at her; Theresa looked away.