Borrowed Vows by Sandra Heath Read Free Book Online

it would please me greatly if she could return to my employ. She finds retirement dull.”
    “Isn’t she a little old to take up her duties again?”
    “Old maybe, but she pines. It does her no good to live on her own. Besides, I wouldn’t expect her to do much, just be there.”
    He shrugged. “As you wish. You have no need to ask my permission on such matters.”
    “Nevertheless, I ask you.”
    He raised a wry eyebrow. “Then you have my consent.”
    “Thank you.”
    He searched her face in the darkness. “What is this, madam? Since my return I’ve received little from you but moods and excuses—to say you’ve seemed dismayed to see me again would be to put it far too mildly—but now, quite suddenly, you wish to placate me. Why?”
    Since his return? Her thoughts raced as she plucked out the facts she needed. They’d seen little of each other during their marriage. For some time they had been parted completely by his service overseas with Wellington, first as an aide when the duke was ambassador to France, and then, when Napoleon Bonaparte returned from exile, at Waterloo itself. But all that was behind him now.
    He studied her. “I await your reply, madam. Or is your silence all the answer I need?”
    She decided to catch him off guard by taking a different tack. “I love you, Dane.”
    He gave a startled laugh. “You love me? Dear God, what manner of gull do you take me for, Rosalind?”
    “It’s the truth!” she cried.
    “Oh, how smoothly you play the innocent,” he murmured.
    “I’m not playing the innocent, I am the innocent. Dane, I don’t want things to continue like this. You’re my husband and I want to be your wife in every way, if you’ll permit me.”
    He looked incredulously at her. “If you mean to astound me, madam, you succeed.”
    “I know I haven’t been quite myself since you returned, but—”
    “Not quite yourself? What a masterly understatement! At the very least I’d hoped for a friendly welcome, but you were hardly the joyous wife, were you?” He sat forward suddenly and seized her wrist. “Who is he, Rosalind?” he breathed.
    Alarm lanced through her. “I... I don’t understand...”
    “Enough of this play-acting. I want your lover’s name. It’s Denham, isn’t it? You’ve had that milksop to warm your bed during my absence!”
    His fingers were like steel bands digging into her flesh. “You’re hurting me!” she cried as tears sprang to her eyes.
    “This is nothing to the pain you’re causing me, Rosalind. I want an answer, and I want it now. Who is your lover?”
    “I haven’t got one!” She could say it truthfully, for as Alice pointed out, Kathryn Vansomeren hadn’t betrayed Sir Dane Marchwood.
    His eyes burned with distrust. “Would that I could believe you, but I can’t. I suspect Denham, although what in God’s name you see in that mewling stay-at-home carpet knight I can’t begin to guess. He was born a coward, and will remain so for the rest of his worthless life, just as his spineless brother was before him. But the past and Denham’s lily liver won’t prevent me from calling him out if I find he’s touched you. Do I make myself clear?”
    “Please let me go, Dane!”
    “You’re my wife, Rosalind, and I won’t wear horns because of your whorish infatuation.” He thrust her away.
    “I’m not infatuated with him. You must believe me, Dane!” Yes, he had to believe her, or tonight wouldn’t happen as she wanted.
    “Why should I believe you when I know you’ve always wanted Denham?”
    “That isn’t so!” Her eyes were bright with reproach. “Besides, how can you accuse me when your own conduct doesn’t bear close scrutiny?”
    His gaze swung instantly toward her. “ My conduct? What is that supposed to mean?”
    “It means you didn’t love me when we married, and you still don’t. Elizabeth will always be everything to you, and she leaves no room in your heart for me.”
    “I forbid you to speak of her,” he said