Trial by Desire (Carhart #2)

Jenny put one hand to her forehead and exhaled.

“This may come as a surprise to you, Jenny, but I am an adult. I do understand how complex and dangerous this situation is. I could not have possibly missed the fact that you feel an obligation to Harcroft—and that I am the one responsible for the obligation in the first place. I am not telling you that I wish to make a training exercise of this matter. I am saying this situation is more delicate than you can possibly imagine, and if you keep poking about, you are the one who will blunder.” His hands were shaking.

Jenny’s eyes widened at that outburst and she leaned back, folding her arms over her chest.

“And when I say trust me,” Ned continued, “I do not mean that you should don a blindfold and repose your unthinking faith in a foolish youth. When in the last few years have I exaggerated? When have I made you a promise and not kept it? When have I broken faith with you?”

“You haven’t.” Her voice was hoarse. “I’m sorry, Ned. I thought only to save you from the trouble and heartache of this affair. It’s only because I care for you.”

“You can take that sentiment and stuff it. This time, Jenny, I’m going to save you. And you are going to sit quietly and let me do it.” As he spoke, Ned leaned over the table, until he was glaring into her eyes.

Jenny lurched back.

He was already regretting the harshness of his tone. Jenny cared for him, as a sister for a brother—literally—but all that sisterly concern left him feeling uselessly swaddled about, covered in cotton wool. She’d already spent too much time caring for him.

Jenny’s eyes dropped from his in similar regret. “I suppose,” she said weakly, “I should like to see Rosa again. It has been more than a week, and we both miss her.”

Ned let out a breath.

“Very well, Ned. Save me.” She rolled her eyes as she said the words, as if to indicate precisely how much weight she put on them. “But if you muck this up because you were too proud to ask for help when you needed it, I shall smack you.”

A wave of relief washed over him. “Don’t worry,” he said. “You won’t need to.” He gave her an assured smile. “Prepare to be saved.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“I HAVE SOMETHING to tell you.”

Kate looked up from her contemplation of the tree-lined horizon through the sitting room window and turned to the doorway. Her hands clenched around the useless pillow she had been pretending to embroider. Ned stood there, nonchalantly leaning against the doorframe. He smiled at her, carefree.

So she was to be told about what had been decided in the meeting, after all. She hadn’t been sure whether she was glad to have been left out, or wounded that she was seen as so useless. She was not sure whether her husband’s presence intensified the feeling of isolation that had enveloped her or alleviated it. But that smile he gave her—that bright smile—seemed to cut through the depressing blue of her thoughts.

Silly impulse, that. Just looking at him tugged at her heart, made her remember how inadequate everything was between them. She looked away and out the window again. Just this morning, she’d traversed the path she saw in front of her, looking for her husband. Now, with the autumn sunset dipping toward the horizon, painting brown fields gold, she wanted no reminder of what she’d learned.

His care for her was a perfunctory thing, a matter of duty. And no matter what else transpired she was alone. Now more than ever.

Behind her, he let out a small sigh. “Gareth and Jenny will be off in half an hour. Harcroft will be leaving for Chelsea in the morning.”

She turned around and looked at him in surprise. “How did that come about?”

Ned stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. “I suggested it.”

“And how, precisely, did you go about suggesting it?” Kate felt her hands trembling. More important, why? And why had he come to her with such news? “Has someone found Louisa?”

“No, Kate.” His voice sounded patient. “Actually, I promised I would search for her here myself. I’m familiar with the area. I promised to send regular reports with my findings.”

Even worse. She’d have to avoid him assiduously, and mislead him. Lying to Harcroft seemed a kind of a civic virtue. To her husband, however, it was another matter.

“And will you?”

“I’ll look until she’s found.” His voice was mild. “But is there anything you wish to say to me on the matter?”

Nothing. She could say nothing.

He came to stand beside her. The red rays of the sunset painted his face in warm tones.

“If there is anything you wish to tell me in confidence, you have my word it would go no further.”