Cat took pity on her sister-in-law and moved the tray to the far side of the terrace. She filled her cup nearly to the brim before returning to her seat. Chocolate could fix anything.
“Forgive me for being such a terrible malcontent today, Cat. I am glad you stopped by. Forster understands you did not truly have an affair, doesn’t he?”
“I have told him the truth. Beyond that, I do not know what he thinks.” Cat took a healthy sip of chocolate. “The annulment papers are in my desk.”
Mazie lifted the cloth from her eyes and looked over at her. “Will you file them?”
“It has been my plan for some time.” Jamie certainly had not displayed any joy at their reunion. She had no cause to change her plans.
“You will claim breach of contract?”
“Yes, I will try.” Cat studied the floral pattern on her cup. “I don’t think he missed me at all.”
“You cannot know that—”
“What if he fell in love with someone else?”
“That would certainly be unfortu—”
“What if he plans to leave again and not return for another five years?”
“Did you ask him?”
“No. I argued with him.” Cat laughed at herself but felt no humor. “He wants an heir.”
“My goodness, that was some argument you had.”
It would have been a much better argument, had she remembered half the things she wanted to say to her errant spouse.
A breeze blew across the lawn, bringing the scent of ripening apples. Somewhere, a warbler trilled. The little bird would be leaving soon, making the long flight to warmer climes.
“You would make a wonderful mother,” Mazie murmured.
“So you think I should stay with him?” Cat turned to her sister-in-law. If only there were an answer to the riddle in her heart.
“Oh, my dear, I cannot tell you what to do.”
Cat sighed and drained her cup of chocolate. She could stay with Jamie, be a mother, and learn to live with the ache in her heart. Or she could strike out on her own and start anew, as had been her plan this last year.
“Are you in fear of him, Catherine?” Mazie asked quietly.
“No, of course not.” It was herself she feared. That she would let her husband break her heart again.
CAT WAS AVOIDING HIM.
Jamie had not seen his wife in two days. Not in the hallway, not in the breakfast room, and certainly not in the dining room.
He did hear her at night, though. The wall connecting their bedchambers was not thick enough to drown the sound of her voice as she chatted with her maid. Alas, he could not make out her words no matter how he strained to hear. She sounded happy enough, if one went by tone alone. Other than taking pains not to see him, she seemed unaffected by his presence in the house. He, on the other hand, could not stop thinking of her.
It seemed to always be this way.
He padded around his bedroom and sitting room. He would focus on his delight to be home, and not his frustration over his wife. Some of his luggage had arrived and he unpacked the souvenirs from his trip. A ceremonial mask from Senegal sat beside a Ming vase atop his bookshelf. A statue of the Hindu god Ganesh acted as a bookend on the middle shelf, holding his travelogues upright.
But it was not his journeys that interested him. It was his home. He had spent the last two days visiting his estate and reacquainting himself with the land and people he had left behind.
Except for his wife, that is. She was nowhere to be found.
Jamie knew she had retired for the night. He had listened to the muted lilt and fall of her voice as she spoke with her maid. Silence had settled a bit ago. What would she do if he poked his head into her room and wished her a good night?
Toss him out, most likely. She had not liked his pronouncement that he needed an heir.
But perhaps she would welcome him. Perhaps they could talk. He would like that, to talk to her.
Before he could reconsider, Jamie walked to the door adjoining the two rooms and knocked. She did not answer.
He pushed the door open and peeked inside.
Cat was asleep on her bed, a book still in hand. A fire blazed in the hearth and a copper tub, full of water, sat in the middle of her chamber. She had been naked. Or perhaps not naked but wrapped in a wet, translucent shift.
He nudged the door open a few inches more.
Her blond hair was unbound and spread out in waves across her pillow. It would most likely be damp from her bath and smell of roses. She’d pulled on a green silk robe but her lower arms and legs were exposed to the heat of the room. He’d forgotten how elegant she was. The shape of her face, the curve of her ankle, the milky-whiteness of her skin.
He had missed her.
The realization hit him like a fist to the gut. Like he could no longer make sense of his breath. He leaned a shoulder against the doorframe and took his time looking at her.
His wife.
The word still felt awkward. She was Cat, the girl he’d known forever. The girl he’d wanted as long as he could remember. And when he finally got her, he’d left.