An Absent Wife (20 page)

Lysander did make his way to his bed some time during the night and he was glad for it.  It was late in the morning by the time he woke
with a start, but he had a distinct mission that day.  After washing, he dressed in clean clothes and prepared for the day ahead.  He hadn’t felt this resolute for some time.  There was definitely a purpose for the day and he was going to achieve it.  It was amazing how much better he felt now that he had a reason to get up in the morning.

Leaving his room, he stared at Adele’s closed door
, knowing most of her things were still in there, but he resisted the urge to look inside.  He didn’t want hints today, or to guess at her intentions; he needed answers and he wouldn’t be finishing the day without them.

Again he noticed the stark solitude of the house; it felt like it was waiting for something.  He breakfasted in the quiet dining room and read the paper, suppressing the eagerness that wanted him to skip the routines of the day.  He wasn’t a stickler for routine, but he wanted to wake up properly and be at his best—which admittedly
, would have been helped if he hadn’t gone on a mission to drink the city dry last night.

Va
guely, he remembered Harry coming and dragging him out, but he recalled none of what they talked about, except he did remember the question: how could she welcome him into her body so thoroughly if she cared nothing for him?  There was an answer there—knowledge he needed; he just needed to confirm his suspicions—and it would happen today.

He didn’t order his horse around, or even the carriage; he would walk, needing the space and the exercise to clear his head.  He needed his wits about him for this conversation.

The day was bright and cold, and the city was fully awake by the time he made it out onto the streets.  He felt anticipation running through his blood—a conclusion was drawing.

Isobel’s glossy black door was closed and there was no sign of life behind the white facade.   A quick knock, brought one of her footmen to the door, giving him entry.  “Madam is in
the salon with the little one,” the man said.  Lysander didn’t really know Isobel’s servants well, but he nodded.

“I am here to see Lady Warburton.”

“She is in the parlor upstairs.”

“I see.”

“I will announce you.”

“That won’t be necessary.”  Lysander strode forward and up the stairs.

“Lysander,” he heard Isobel calling from the salon.

“Isobel,” he acknowledged and kept walking up.  Isobel came running out of the salon and up the stairs, but he was quickly at the
parlor, where Adele sat.  She looked up at him as he entered the room, needle held over her embroidery.  “I need to speak to you.”

“Lysander, this is underhanded
, barging in like this.”  She came around in front of him standing between him and Adele.

“I need to speak to my wife.  How can that be underhanded?”

“You could have let us know you were coming.  It is not a good time.”

“I recognize that you are trying to help, Isobel, but do not place yourself in my way.  And this is a conversation that cannot wait.  Now if you would give us a moment.”  Isobel didn’t look like she was moving, so he grabbed her by the arm and walked her to the door.

“Lysander, this is my house.”

“And this is my wife.  Do not interfere.”  He placed Isobel on the other side and gave her a warning look.

“It’s alright, Isobel,” Adele said, smiling at his aunt.  “I am sure he is not staying long.”

Closing the door firmly, he turned to his wife, who was standing now, her hands wringing in front of her.  “What do you want, Lysander?” she said, tension apparent in her voice.

“I want some answers.”  Now that he was here, he didn’t know how to start this conversation.

She stood waiting, clearly not happy with this intrusion.  After a while, she said, “Fine.  Ask your questions.”

“When you invited me into your bed—,”

“Oh please, you cannot be serious,” she said turning away.

“I am serious,” he said, stepping closer, knowing it sounded ridiculous, but he had to ask this.  “When you invited me into your bed, it went beyond the sheer mechanics of reproduction.  You—,”

“Enjoyed it?  It is sex, Lysander; it is pleasurable, even to us.”  She turned back to him, facing him square on.

“I am not an idiot, Adele—don’t treat me like one.  I know much more about sex than you do.”  Admittedly, she knew more than he wanted her to, particularly in regards to the other man she’d been with, but that didn’t make her greatly experienced.

“Are you trying to make a point?”

“Will you let me finish.”  He still didn’t know how to proceed.  He had to change tack.  “You throw this marriage away like it means nothing, but when we were together, in your bedchamber, it wasn’t absent of meaning to you.”

“I never said this marriage meant nothing.  It represents a great deal of pain and rejection.  Lysander, please—why are you dragging this up?”

“Because this is important.”

“It has never been important to you.”

“I move you, deeply.  Tell me it isn’t true.  When I touch you, you shiver.  When I kiss you, you welcome it.”

“What do you want from me?”

“I want you to be honest with me.  Do you love me?”

She looked him in the eyes and he saw a pained expression there, but it fleeted away to resignation.  “I did.”

He couldn’t understand her definition of love; she’d barely known him, yet she claimed that she’d loved him.  But her heart had been engaged when they’d slept together; he’d felt it in his bones.  “Until you met Mr. Ellingwood.  Did you love him?” 

Adele didn’t exactly know what it was Lysander wanted, but it was obviously tremendously important to him at the moment.  These were things better off left unsaid, but he wasn’t going to let them. 
Fine, we’ll do this
, she said to herself and looked back at him.  Did she love Mr Ellingwood?  “I cared for him and he cared for me.”

“And if he hadn’t died, you would be with him now.”  It wasn’t a question, so she saw no reason to answer it.  If he hadn’t died, she would probably be in India now, and judging from the results of their time
together, she probably wouldn’t be pregnant.  “What do you want from me?” he asked.  “Why would you welcome me so completely if you wanted nothing from me?”

“Perhaps because I had wanted you for so very long and there were residual feelings there,” she said with exasperation, trying to justify her reaction.  She’d wanted him so utterly and completely those nights they’d been together.

“Residual,” he repeated.  “Do you love me?”

She gave him a contemptuous look.  How dared he drag this all out now?  “I am looking to leave all of this behind, Lysander. 
What purpose will this serve?  Just let me go.”

“Do you love me?” he repeated with more strength.

“I don’t know!” she yelled back at him.  “I did, and it gave me nothing but misery.”

“Why would you say that you loved me when you hardly knew me?”

“Because I did.  You were my husband, and I recognized you as such.”

“I wanted nothing to do with you.”

“That sentiment hardly escaped me.”

“And then you met Mr
Ellingwood and everything changed.”

“No, I realized, painfully, that things were never goi
ng to change, and then I met Mr Ellingwood—someone who was interested in me, who thought I was a worthy person to spend time with.”  She saw confusion and intense concentration on his face.

“And then I dragged you back here and we developed an intimacy; one that clearly showed that there was something profound between us—one that I didn’t want ended.”  This was unbearable.  He couldn’t seriously be expecting her to put up with that torture.  “I don’t want this marriage ended.”

“I need to go, Lysander, there is too much between us.”

“Too much to just let go.”

“That is not what I meant.”

“I love you,” he said quietly.

“No, you don’t,” she said beseechingly.  “You never did, Lysander—that is the point.”

“I didn’t a year ago, but I do now.  I love you and you love me.  Why would we end this marriage now?”

She only shook her head, feeling utterly despondent.  “Lysander,...”

He moved toward her quickly, bringing his hands up to her neck and pulling her to him, into a kiss, groaning into the kiss as it if released some pent up frustration.  She couldn’t resist the feeling of the kiss as it developed, the feelings unfurled deep inside her, compelling her and mesmerizing her.  And now he knew the kind of power he still had over her.

His eyes were glassy as he pulled back from her.  There was no point denying the fact that she wanted more; wanted him physically, with ferocity.  For all the hurt and humiliation he’d caused her over the years, she still wanted him.

“I can force you to stay in this marriage,” he said.  On some level, that would make things much simpler—just removing all decisions and responsibility from her.  “But I won’t.  If you want to be released from this marriage, I will do so.  But that is not what I want.  You’ve made me care for you—love you, and if you release me now, I will suffer exactly like I made you do.”

“That is not fair.”

“No, but it is true.  I have the papers; you just have to ask me and I will sign them—but know this is not what I want.  I want my family.  I love you and I want us to be together, properly this time.  If you are intent on my suffering then you shall have it.”

“I am not interested in making you suffer.  That is where we’ve been.  How would I have any assurance that I won’t just be extending this misery, for both of us.”

“Will my promises mean anything to you?”

She wasn’t sure they would.  Promises were cheap in the heat of the moment when intentions were strong; living them every day, that was hard.  She shook her head and got a bitter smile in return.  He didn’t say anything more, just stood there for a while, watching her before turning away.  He was gone before she knew what to do with herself.  Her lips still burnt from the kiss and tears were spilling down her cheeks.

Isobel rushed into the room.  “I love my
nephew, but he is an odious man.  What did he do?” she said once she’d taken a look at Adele, who was still staring after the empty space where he’d been.

Adele walked the whol
e of Hyde Park.  Distress forbade her from stopping.  She didn’t know where she was going; she didn’t know how she was feeling.  Lysander’s assertions reverberated through her mind.  It was so incredibly unfair, making her responsible for his happiness or misery.   Isobel had tried to get her to sit down and talk, but she couldn’t—she needed to move, and she needed to be alone.

He’d said he loved her.  Could that even be true?  She knew what he was talking about when he’d said their intimacy was more than he’d expected it to be; it was for her too—scarily so.  It was the reason she couldn’t contemplate staying in this marriage.  With intimacy and protestations of love, his ability to hurt her was so much greater.

Taking a seat on a bench, she forced herself to calm down.  This distress wasn’t good for the baby.  Her hand stretched over her still flat stomach.  He’d stated he wanted his family and Adele winced, knowing she was robbing him of that if she forced him to divorce her.  Why did everything have to be so hard?

Rubbing her toe along the gravel she smiled at the irony—he was giving her everything she’d ever wanted, but at a time when she was ready to finally
leave it all behind.  But was she running away or was she running to; she wasn’t even sure.  She just wanted peace—but she wasn’t going to get any if she was responsible for Lysander’s misery.  Or was she just scared of what he was proposing?  What was she scared of?  She knew the answer, but she didn’t want to verbalize it.

She couldn’t run away.  Whatever her decision was to be, she had to make it with her eyes open, conscious of the consequences—otherwise she’d never truly be happy or settled in her future.

She hated the fact that he’d left this decision all up to her.  It was a tough decision and there was still an answer she was missing, and she had been honest about it—she had loved him, but did she still—even as she had been trying to put distance between them at every possible opportunity?  Maybe that was proof that she did—because what would happen if she didn’t maintain the distance?

Isobel respected her need for time and privacy, telling Adele that she was available to listen if she needed to discuss something, and reiterating what a lout her nephew was.  Adele appreciated the gesture, but truthfully, she wasn’t ready to talk yet.

Lying down on her bed, Adele tried to clear her mind of the jumble in there, but the demanding questions wouldn’t leave her alone.  His kisse
s melted her and he’d proven that point.  Closing her eyes, she felt the touch of his lips on her; the trail of his fingers down her body—the heat inside her quickening.

She tried to imagine what it would be like to live with him as she had Samson—sleeping in the same bed, enjoying each other’s bodies in calm knowledge that they were devoted to each other.  She’d had stolen passion with Lysander, forbidden touches to secure this child.
It was that intimacy that was causing all the trouble now—Lysander wanted more.  Apparently he’d discovered something profound and precious, and now he wasn’t letting it go.  She’d lied when she’d said it was just sex, because to her it had been the culmination of a decade’s worth of want and need—the distant ghost made real for a few short nights.  Surely that was what he was reacting to—a sense of passion found in a rare occurrence.  Rarity did not make for satisfaction over a longer period.

He’d said he loved her.  That bothered her more than anything.  If it wasn’t true, he had no right saying it. 
If it was...

She got up from the bed again, stirred by a sense of deep agitation.  This would not do; she wasn’t getting a moments peace.  He’d come and
left her with lasting torment.

Bri
skly, she walked to the door and down the stairs.

“Adele,” Isobel called, appear
ing at the door of the salon as Adele was asking for her coat to be retrieved.  “Where are you going?”

“I have to speak to him.”

“Are you sure that is a good idea?”

“No.  But it’s the only thing I can do at the moment.  He comes here and rips my mind and my heart into pieces, and then just leaves.  That is not fair and it isn’t right, and I won’t let him do it to me anymore.”  Adele was mixing up her thoughts and speech, which probably gave Isobel a strange interpretation of what she was saying, but she couldn’t worry about that right now.

Adele was out the door, greeted by the chill air, which was cooling further now that the sun was starting its descent.  She marched to Lysander’s house, letting her feet take her in a brisk pace down the streets, catching him as he was stepping out of his house, about to leave.  “Are you going somewhere?” she demanded.

“I was, but come in.”  He closed the door behind them and
Jamieson discreetly disappeared.  “I wasn’t expecting you.”  Stepping back, he crossed his arms in front of him as Adele paced—perhaps because he perceived that she wanted to hit him.

“I’m not responsible for you,” she said.

“Yes, you are.”

Adele
regarded him through narrowed eyes.  They’d already had this conversation, but she wasn’t ready to let it go.  “Look,” she said.  “We had some nice nights with intimacy—nice intimacy.  That is not a reason to extend this marriage.”

“Well, I’m in love with you now.”

“No, you’re not.  You ignored me to close to a decade and now, at the last moment, you decided that you’re in love with me.  Don’t you recognize how childish that seems?  Why would I forgo a happy future to dabble with your emotional wobble?  You’ve never wanted this marriage.”

“I admit it.  I did everything wrong.  I placed you in the country and pretended you didn’t exist.”  Adele kept pacing, then turned abruptly and hit him, repeatedly, until he’d had enough and forced her arm behind her back, bringing her to him.  Adele struggled in his grip, but he wouldn’t relent.  “I blamed you for everything, and yes, it was unfair.”

“Why should I trust you now?”

He was quiet for a moment and Adele searched his eyes, trying to understand the truth of him. 
“Because I’m asking you to.”

“Are you just upset at losing something that you see as a possession?”

He let go of her, a look of disappointment on his face.  “I was hoping you’d give me more credit than that.  If that is what you think of me, then ask me to sign the petition.”  She stared at him, a knot of uncertainty in her chest.  “If there is no future here, then just do it.”

Adele felt her heart twist and her eyes tear.  “I don’t know what to do,” she said.  “If I leave, will you be fine?”

“Do you want me to lie to you?”  Adele tried to pull away, but he kept her still.  “I am fighting for my marriage here.  What do you expect me to do?”

“Why?”

“Because we are good together.  It’s taken me years to realize it.  Because we’re having a child.  Because I crave you when I’m not with you.  I crave you when I am with you.  Because you’re all I think about.”

“Your reputation will suffer if you stay with me.”

“I will suffer if I don’t.  And so will you.”  His grip tightened, making her pull herself up straighter, bringing her head up to him.  His eyes traveled to her lips.  “I will just have to prove my steadfastness,” he said.  “The option is there for you.  The petition is on my desk—it will stay there for you if you wish.  Just give this a chance.”  He moved closer.  Adele could feel his breath on her lips, and she closed her eyes as his lips slowly made contact with hers.  True to her form, she melted into the embrace and his grip on her wrist slipped away as he deepened the kiss, instead moving to the small of her back, pressing her to him.  The kiss lightened again and his tongue playfully stroked along her sensitive lips.  Pulling away his eyes were drunk with desire.  “Please, Adele, don’t be cruel.”

His eyes
traveled lower along her neck, showing clearly where he wanted his mouth to be.  Keeping his eyes locked on hers, his hand snaked down to the button of her jacket, and she felt it give way as he undid it, then his hand roaming over the material covering her hip.  Heat unfurled deep inside her.

She didn’t know whether he was manipulating her with her desire for him, but
she certainly wasn’t immune to it.

“This is a serious decision,” she said as she tried to clear her mind of the desire that was taking over.

“Very serious,” he said and leaned down, kissing her on the side of the neck.

“You’re seducing me.”

She could feel him smiling against the column of her neck before he resumed the kisses which threatened the stability of her knees.  His hand moved higher, to cup her breast.  “I love that you’re not wearing a corset,” he said, teasing the painfully tight bud until she moaned with exquisite delight.  His other hand sought its way under her skirt and into her petticoat, until reaching the skin of her thigh.

“Lysander,” she said in a breathy voice.

“Yes, my dear?”  His hand moved around her bare backside, pressing her closer to him.  She felt his hardness to her front.

It was meant as an objection, but now she couldn’t remember why.  Stepping back, he pulled her with him into his study and closed the door firmly behind them.  Adele felt a glorious shock of friction as the desk stopped her
backward movement, pushing her closer to his hard body.  Reaching down, he lifted the material of her dress over her head, having undone the buttons at the back along the way.

As she leant back across the
desk, he groaned contentedly.  Her thighs coming up around him and his hands traveled along her legs, reaching her boots to undo their ties and letting them drop to the floor.  Adele lay back and watched him as he finished undressing her.  Her body was on fire and she couldn’t stop this even if she wanted to.  She wanted him inside her, deeply lodged, joining them together.

“I should have done this a long time ago,” he said, his fingertips running along her bare stomach, sending sensations flowing throughout her body.  Leaning in, she felt the friction of his hips to her
s, but he was still dressed.  She couldn’t take any more of this teasing.  “I’m sorry it took me so long, but I’m not letting go now.  You’re my wife, Adele, and you belong here with me.”

At that s
he would agree with anything he said, but she had to admit that his words drove the heat in her, reducing her to short, sharp breaths as she waited for him.  Placing her calf around his hip, she pulled him closer to her, hearing his sharp intake of breath, and brought her knees further apart in an undeniable invitation to her body.

His hips firmly lodged against hers, he
undid the buttons of his waistcoat and shirt, revealing the smooth skin and firm muscles of his broad chest.  Adele watched him as he undressed, feeling utterly wanton.   Gone were all questions if this was the right thing, or if she trusted him—right now she didn’t care; she wanted him with every base instinct in her.

Her eyes took in every
detail as he undid his breeches, revealing his hardness.  She really couldn’t wait anymore and angled her hips to receive him, being rewarded by glorious sensations as he pushed into her, leaving her with a feeling of fullness and completion.

In all her years of imagining being with her husband, she’d never quite imagined it being quite so wanton, but she wasn’t complaining—this was a new level of experience, beyond anything she’d known, and along the way, the guilt and confusion seemed to have dissipated. 

A thrill of pleasure shot through her as he pushed into her completely, making her wince with the intensity of it.  How could she possibly contemplate living without this?  Pulling back, he pushed into her again.  She couldn’t breathe, but needed the sensations more than she needed breath.  Her body arched into the movement, eliciting every ounce of sensation from their coupling.  Painful tension filled her as he drove her body onto new heights.  Powerful waves washed through her, drowning her in pleasure as he thrust into her one last time, grinding them together as if to fuse them.  Sharp jerks stole through him as he shuddered through his release.

Adele wasn’t sure she could move when the world started to resemble itself.  Her legs felt like they had great big weights attached, and her body was drained, too tired to move—as was her heart.

Lysander was leaning over her, breathing heavily as his lower arms took much of his weight.  “I hope you don’t have somewhere you need to be tonight, because that was just a prelude.”

Smiling, Adele brought her arms up around his head, holding him to her chest
, but a look of concern stole into her eyes.  Closing her eyes, she just held him, acknowledging the beat of her rejoicing heart.  Her heart belonged to him—it always had.  Being separated from him caused her pain.   She was at her happiest when they were getting along, like in Venice and before, when they were here in this house, just getting along and ignoring all the difficult questions that sought to drive them apart.

“Would you really divorce me if I asked you to?”

“Well now, I know how to distract you,” he said with a sly grin, leaning over and kissing her.  Adele closed her eyes as the kiss contacted, sweetness stealing through her mind.  She groaned in loss as he pulled away.  She sighed in resignation.