Geoffrey stood, taking Liliana by the shoulders. “Think back to every conversation you had with the man. Did he ask any probing questions, anything else that struck you wrong?”
Liliana’s mouth shifted to the side and she tugged upon her lower lip in that way she did when she was thinking. “No. Nothing.”
“Did he ever try to get you alone?”
Liliana squinted her eyes at him. “No. He was ever the gentleman. He did mention in his note that he’d like to see me again in London, but—”
“You’re not going back to London,” Geoffrey said. “Or Chelmsford, either. You’ll be staying here.” Now was as good a time as any to tell her what he’d decided.
Liliana stiffened and pulled away from him. He let her. “That’s ridiculous, Geoffrey. The house party ends tomorrow, and guests will be departing. I can’t very well stay at Somerton Park.”
“You can if we’re to be married.”
Liliana’s delicate chin dropped, her pink tongue flashing through her open mouth. “I hardly think—”
“You agreed last night, before we made love. Or were you lying to me then, too?”
“N-no. Of course not.” Her head whipped from side to side. “I said, ‘If you still—’ ”
“Wanted you to in the morning.” He strode over to the shuttered window and threw one wide. A blast of sunshine streaked through the room. “It’s morning, and I still want you as my wife.”
Her face went slack, but Geoffrey could see her mind racing behind those intelligent violet eyes.
“But why?” she finally whispered. “Have you forgiven me, then?”
“No. Nor do I expect to,” he said, even if he could understand why she’d lied. Still, it wouldn’t do to let her know that. Better to set clear boundaries now. He’d lost his way before, but he vowed not to let her under his skin again. This would be a marriage where he maintained the upper hand. One that didn’t involve his heart—once he figured out how to uninvolve it. “But the fact of the matter is, we have made love. You very well may be carrying the next Earl of Stratford as we speak.”
A streak of satisfaction shot through him as Liliana dropped her hand protectively to her stomach, eyes widening as if she hadn’t even considered the possibility. A picture of a laughing babe, with his black hair and her violet eyes, pierced him and he realized he hoped it were so…a sick testament to his muddled feelings where Liliana was concerned.
“We will read the banns this Sunday and be married in three weeks’ time.” Once she was his wife, he could protect her, could watch over her, could keep her near. And though he might tell her he married her for honor’s sake, even after everything that had happened, he realized he still wanted her in his life and in his bed.
“But you don’t trust me?” she asked in a small voice that twinged his heart.
“No. I don’t have to trust you. As my wife, it will be in your best interest to protect my reputation.”
He purposely misinterpreted her meaning, and he could tell by the way she stiffened that his words stung. He steeled himself against her pain. It was for the best.
She stood up straight and looked him in the eyes. “Without trust, there can be no love.”
A sharp pain burst in the vicinity of his heart. There already was love, but he’d be damned before he ever told her that and gave her the power to manipulate or control his feelings again. And he’d be double damned if he let his love grow any more. He would quash it, viciously. Love did nothing but hurt, especially if you were the one who loved. Watching his father had taught him that.
He’d been a fool to ever think otherwise.
“Love isn’t necessary.”
Chapter Twenty-six
L
iliana stared at her left hand where it rested on the table, a large amethyst betrothal ring encircling her third finger. She twisted her wrist and followed the shards of colorful candlelight reflecting through the cut jewel onto her white table napkin.
Low murmurs of subdued conversation hovered over the dinner table, punctuated by envious glances and curious stares. Once again, Liliana was seated to Geoffrey’s right, this time not to honor her victory on the tournament field, but as his affianced.
She touched her fingertips to her temples, where the low throb of a headache had taken root and now grew, fertilized by the blatant scrutiny of the assembled diners. She supposed many, like Aunt Eliza, considered Liliana’s enviable position as Geoffrey’s betrothed to be the ultimate victory.
But beside her Geoffrey sat stiffly, a cool smile riding his face. Her chest swelled with a heavy sadness.
Love isn’t necessary.
If marrying Geoffrey was a victory, it was hollow and dead, like a once majestic oak felled and left to rot in the bog.
“Smile, Liliana,” Geoffrey murmured, not looking at her, “lest people think this is not a happy occasion.”
She complied, but the expression felt dusty and brittle on her face.
She supposed occasion was one word to describe this mess. The day had been a whirlwind, and Geoffrey a force of nature who had allowed nothing to alter his course. Upon their return from the folly this morning, he’d wasted no time in announcing his intentions, not giving Liliana a chance to protest.
First he’d told his mother—whose howls of dissent were said to have been heard clear down to the servants’ quarters. Then he’d paid a visit to Aunt Eliza, who’d had the opposite reaction, of course. She’d been only too happy to halt the packing of their belongings for tomorrow’s departure and instead make arrangements to stay for the three weeks until the wedding. Oh, Aunt had fussed a bit about the rushed nuptials, but then wisely ceased her complaining, murmuring something about not looking a gift horse in the mouth.
Geoffrey had then closeted himself in the billiards room with the other gentlemen, ostensibly to talk politics, giving Liliana no opportunity to speak her mind.
She pushed her plate away and looked around the table. A room full of people was not the ideal place for the discussion she planned to have, but he’d left her no choice. This was the last night of the house party, and he’d already told her the Town gentlemen planned to wrap up their political discussions over cards late into the evening. Yet she couldn’t go to sleep with her feelings so unresolved.
“And you would say a loveless marriage is cause for happiness, my lord?” Liliana asked, keeping her voice low.
Geoffrey did turn to her then, and a shimmer of emotion rippled over his face before it smoothed back into coolness. “Of course, when it’s between two people who complement each other as we do.”
Liliana’s breath caught. He masked it well, but she’d seen something in his expression, some feeling. If only she knew what it was and if it could ever go back to how he’d felt about her yesterday, before her awful revelations. She decided to probe for more. She needed to know what drove him to insist upon a wedding to someone he didn’t trust or love. Perhaps there was something there she could cling to, something with the potential to grow. “While I agree that in many ways we’d be a good match, I, as I said from the moment we met, haven’t the need for a husband.”