Deceived & Honoured - The Baron's Vexing Wife (Love's Second Chance #7)

Had she finally come to resent him? Was this what the future would look like?

Since early November the weather had eased, and though it was still cold, the wind had calmed. Although the leak in Meagan’s roof had been fixed a fortnight ago, Derek continued to visit her. There was something about the way she looked at him that made him feel at ease. Somehow, she knew how he felt, and she understood.

It was a relief.

“Ye need to speak to her,” Meagan insisted, shaking her head at his stubborn resistance as she set down a steaming cup of tea on the table in front of him. “Don’t be a fool. Speak to her.”

Derek gritted his teeth, feeling the heat of the tea burn his fingers through the cup. “What if it simply makes things worse? What if??”

“Don’t do this to yourself!” Meagan snapped, annoyance clearly visible in her bright blue eyes as she sank onto the chair opposite him. “Ye love her, don’t ye?”

Derek’s gaze narrowed.

“I’ll take that as a confirmation,” Meagan simply stated, a touch of amusement coming to her gaze. “Listen, the only reason ye’re resistin’ is because ye fear she does not care for ye, isn’t that so?”

Derek swallowed.

“Again, I’m glad ye’re so forthcoming with your answers.” Rolling her eyes, Meagan sighed. “Listen, when…Edward and I first met,” she took a deep breath, the hint of mischief suddenly gone from her eyes, “I was so nervous every time I saw him that I felt sick to my stomach.” A wistful smile touched her lips. “Some days, I would avoid him altogether, afraid of the moment I would find out that he did not care for me.”

“But he did,” Derek stated, a bit of a question in his tone.

“Of course, he did!” Once more shaking her head at him, Meagan sighed, “Do ye think I would’ve married a man who did not love me? What I’m trying to say is that he cared for me as much as I cared for him, and like myself, he was afraid that I did not feel the same way, that he was only imagining those moments when we couldn’t tear our eyes away from each other.” Smiling, she shook her head. “We spent weeks dancing around one another, afraid to say a word, and we wasted these weeks when we simply could have been happy.” Her eyes misted over as she looked at him, unashamed of the tear that rolled down her cheek. “Don’t waste your life loving her from a distance, afraid that she might not reciprocate. Let me ask ye this: what if she does?”

Derek frowned. “What if she does what?”

Again, Meagan rolled her eyes. “Love ye, ye fool? What if she loves ye?”

As Derek returned home that night, he could not forget the look in Meagan’s eyes as she had spoken to him so vehemently. And deep down, he felt guilty.

Meagan had lost the love of her life. She would never see him again. Never hear his voice again as he told her he loved her. Never again feel his touch as his arms embraced her. And still, she had found a way to continue. To be a mother to their children, to smile and laugh, even if sometimes it was with a tearful eye.

Compared to her sorrow, Derek could not help but feel cowardly.

His wife was alive, sleeping in the room next to him. He saw her every day. If he chose to, he could reach out and touch her, pull her into his arms and hold her tight. He could tell her that he loved her…even if she did not love him back.

He could do all those things, and yet, he did not.

Never in his life had Derek run away from fear. Still, he had never been more afraid than he was now.

Was it not better to suspect that she did not love him than to know it outright?

At that thought, Derek could see Meagan rolling her eyes at him, once again saying, What if she loves ye?

Although Meagan had become the nagging voice of his conscience, he went to see her often. Her little cottage was filled with warmth and love, and he enjoyed the silent peace that engulfed him there as he watched her tend to her children, telling them of the father they’d lost and would never see again. Little Erin probably did not even remember him as she had been only a baby when he had left for the war.

Still, Meagan found a way to conjure an image of her husband that would live on in his children’s hearts, comforting them.

“Go home,” she told him one night. “Ye spend too much time here.”

Derek shrugged. “This late in the year, there isn’t much to be done, especially with the days growing so short.”

“Then go home,” she snapped, clearly exasperated, and Derek wondered if he was overstepping his welcome. “Go and spend time with your wife. How do ye think it will look to her that ye spend all your time here? Don’t sabotage your marriage!”

“I’m not?”

“Go home!”

And so, he had left, carefully finding his way in the dark as he approached Huntington House. Lights glowed in the windows, and Derek was reminded of the night Collin had fallen ill. He drew in a deep breath as the panic of that night reclaimed him before it slowly dissipated, his lungs tingling with the cold night air.

“You’re back in time for supper.”

Swinging around, Derek stared at his wife as she stepped toward him out of the shadows. “I didn’t see you there,” he replied, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. A cough shook him as he grasped for words. “What are you doing out here?”

Breathing in deeply, she shrugged. “Thinking. Getting some air.”

“I see,” Derek mumbled, wishing they could speak to each other as they had before. “May I escort you back to the house then?”

“You may,” his wife replied before she stepped forward and met his gaze.

Derek swallowed his regret as he saw nothing warm in her eyes, only regret and…resignation. What had happened to the vivacious woman who had thrown herself into his arms a few weeks ago? What had opened such a chasm between them?

Derek did not know, and as November turned into December, his hope dissipated more and more each day.

“Ye cannot expect her to rush back into your arms,” Meagan counselled in her own rather forthright way, “if ye do not give her a reason to do so. Talk to her. Tell her how ye feel and stop bothering me with this.” Patting him on the shoulder, she sent him on his way.

Cursing his own cowardice, Derek strode back to the house, determined to finally speak his mind before his courage would fail him yet again. However, when he was about to open the back door to the kitchen, the sound of wheels churning on gravel caught his attention.

Darting around the house, he spotted a fine carriage pulling to a halt by the front steps. The coachman jumped down and hastened to open the door, which bore the coat-of-arms of…

Derek sighed and then strode forward as his best friend stepped out into the cold. “Tristan, what brings you here?”

“Not the weather,” his friend replied with a chuckle, “or the scenery, that’s for certain. Have you even done any work on the house at all?”

Derek grinned. “Not at all. May I offer you a box in the stables then? Maybe that will be more to your liking.”

Laughing, Tristan held out his hand and helped his wife out of the carriage.

“Lord Ainsworth,” Beth greeted him with a genuine smile on her beautiful face. “It’s so good to see you again. Please, do not mind my husband. On occasion, he forgets his manners.”

“I assure you I’m quite used to it, Lady Elton,” Derek teased, surprised how much he delighted in seeing his friends again so unexpectedly. “May I ask what brings you here this time of year? Surely, there are much more pleasant months to pay a visit.”

Beth smiled, placing a hand on her husband’s arm to keep him from saying something inappropriate in return. “I find the cold rather invigorating,” she beamed, her cheeks glowing with excitement. “In all honesty, though, we did not come to intrude, but merely thought to stop by on our way to Scotland. My husband’s sister invited us to spend the holidays.”

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