Captivated By Her Convenient Husband

* * *

He’d dismissed her! Avaline sat down hard on the edge of her bed, sorry she’d ever raced to his side. His cries had awakened her. They’d been dreadful in their desperation, the sounds of a man who’d reached the edges of his sanity and was about to lose hold. In her haste to comfort him, she’d forgotten everything including Ferris’s warning. She’d raced recklessly to his side, her one thought being that no one should be so tortured. Her empathy had not been enough armour.

She’d not been prepared for what she’d encountered; a raging bear of a man whose mind had seen her as an enemy. He’d attacked the moment she’d touched him, his war-taut body tight-sprung. She’d been no match for his strength. She’d found herself beneath him, crushed between the hardness of his body and the mattress, and when she had managed to wake him, he’d not been glad to see her. No matter how polite he’d tried to be about it, the message was still the same. He’d sent her away as soon as he could.

Avaline lit the lamp beside her bed and picked up a book. She wasn’t likely to sleep any time soon. Her mind was too full of disappointment. She hadn’t realised how much hope she’d inadvertently put into his words from the garden today. He’d said he wanted a real marriage and, despite her best attempts not to, she’d wanted to believe him.

But in a real marriage, husbands and wives told each other everything: the good, the bad, their hopes and their fears. Tonight, he hadn’t been able to tell her his dream. Tonight, he’d turned her away when she’d brought comfort. Tonight in his room was not that different from the last time she’d been in there...

* * *

‘You’re going out?’ Avaline stood in the doorway connecting their two rooms. She’d not been in his room since he’d taken up residence. It seemed empty, devoid of personality, and he hadn’t even left yet. But he was already packed. His trunk stood strapped and ready for departure in the corner. She had the sudden sensation that maybe he’d never unpacked.

Fortis turned from the mirror where he was straightening his stock. ‘Yes. You needn’t wait up for me. The boys and I are going to make a night of it at the tavern in the village. One last hurrah before I am off again to parts unknown. You understand. It will be ages before I see them again.’

‘But you leave tomorrow,’ Avaline stammered her protest. What about her? It would be ages before he saw her again, too. ‘I thought we could have supper together, just the two of us.’ She’d had the cook prepare all his favourites: jugged hare, fresh vegetables and bread. They hadn’t had an evening alone since their wedding, three weeks ago. Every night had been filled with a never-ending round of dinners given in the newlyweds’ honour in lieu of there being time for a proper wedding trip.

What there hadn’t been time for was getting to know her new husband, but she seemed to be the only one bothered by this. Fortis appeared perfectly happy with the arrangement and, if he’d expected to spend his leave in bed with his new bride, he gave no indication he was disappointed it had turned out otherwise. After the dinners, he’d sent her home alone while he’d gone out with his friends. Tonight was her last chance to make up for whatever failings he might have found in her on their wedding night.

‘I’ll wait up. We can have a nightcap together.’ Avaline tried once more.

‘No need. As I said, the boys and I will likely make a night of it. I’ll be home with the sun, long enough to get my trunk. The train leaves at eight.’ He was all brisk efficiency, not a single note of remorse in his tone.

‘Perhaps you might manage a goodbye kiss if you can spare the time,’ Avaline said testily, her anger and disappointment getting the better of her. She hadn’t known what to expect of marriage, but she hadn’t expected to be disregarded.

Her tone got his attention at last. ‘Avaline, are you going to act like a spoiled child?’ He shook his head in a mild gesture of despair. ‘I told my parents you were too young. But they insisted. Your parents insisted. Now it seems I’m right. I am married to a child who expects her husband to stay home and play with her, a child who knows nothing of the world.’

The words stung. He thought her a child? A spoiled child at that, all because she’d wanted a piece of his attention? She raised her chin. ‘I am not a child. I merely thought things would be different.’

‘How so?’ He pulled out his pocket watch, irritated that she was making him late. ‘Let me spell this out for you. This is not a fairy tale where we suddenly fall in love.’ He strode from the room without a word of apology, without even a chaste kiss on her cheek. The message could not be clearer. Her husband wasn’t interested in loving her.

* * *

She’d been dismissed then, too. Not much had changed, after all. She’d been right to reserve judgement about the man who’d returned to her, right to protect her heart from making a fool of herself again. She blew out her lamp, finally exhausted, one last thought lingering as she drifted to sleep. Maybe the old adage was true. The more things changed, the more they stayed the same. That was certainly proven tonight, although a part of her wished it hadn’t. Part of her wanted to believe the man in the garden wanted the same things she wanted and that he was capable of giving her those things.

Chapter Five

He was going to exhaust himself before supper at this rate. Avaline stopped long enough from helping with lunch preparations to watch her husband with the tenants as they thatched a roof. Perhaps that was his plan. Work hard, sleep hard in order to avoid the bad dreams by night and perhaps his wife by day.

For all the differences she saw in Fortis, that one hadn’t changed. Last night had driven that home. He’d never had time for her and it seemed he still didn’t. No doubt he’d brought her today to tour the estate because he’d needed her to make introductions. The sooner she could accept that, the sooner she could move forward with constructing what her new life as Fortis’s wife would look like.

The sight of him working made it difficult to harden her heart entirely. It had pleased and surprised her to see his willingness to join in. He’d never shown an interest in the estate before. Perhaps he’d meant that piece at least when he said he’d come to home to help with Blandford. It gave her a different kind of hope. The new life they could have together might not be the fairy tale she yearned for, but perhaps neither would it be as disappointing as their past. They might be able to use their dedication to Blandford to build a foundation between them, one that in time would give way to respect and friendship. Many marriages were built on less. She could learn to be happy with that if she could just keep her fantasies in check. Something that was easier to say than to do, when one’s handsome husband was up on the roof, flexing his muscles in shirtsleeves.

Avaline used a hand to shield her eyes against the sun. At some point in the morning, Fortis’s coat had come off along with his waistcoat, his shirt open at the neck, the once carefully laundered garment now sporting splotches of sweat and grime. His trousers were dusty from hauling up the bundles of straw. He paused on the roof, straightening for a moment to wipe the sweat from his brow. It was heated work, hard work, even beneath an October sun. The day was clear and crisp, the not-so-subtle hint of oncoming winter in the air, yet the efforts of labour were evidenced in the steam off his body.

What a body it was. Even at a distance, she couldn’t help but be aware of it, of him. Shoulders strained tirelessly beneath his shirt; long, booted legs strode confidently on the flat of the roof with athletic grace, old buckskin breeches showing well-muscled thighs, never mind that most men of his class had eschewed breeches for trousers. ‘No sense in ruining perfectly good trousers,’ he’d told her this morning when she’d raised a questioning eyebrow at his attire. That was new, too, another piece of reality the military must have drilled into him: thrift, frugality. The Fortis she’d married had been fashion conscious. Not a dandy, certainly, but always well-turned-out. Too bad breeches weren’t back in fashion. She liked the look. He wore them well. Extremely well. Well enough to make a girl forget quite a lot of things, ranging from helping the women lay out a luncheon to the risks of wagering one’s heart on a fool’s prospect. Perhaps she wasn’t beyond such foolishness as she thought. If so, she would need to be on her guard.

‘Let me take those.’ Mrs Baker came to help her with the basket of apples on her arm and she felt silly for standing about gawking at a man who’d dismissed her from his bedroom last night.

‘I’m sorry, Mrs Baker, I was just bringing the basket to the table,’ Avaline apologised hastily.

The woman smiled knowingly, following the recent trajectory of her gaze. ‘You must be thrilled to have him home, such a handsome man, and the two of you only married a short while before he had to leave. You can make up for lost time now.’

‘Yes, of course,’ Avaline replied automatically and hurried off to put the apples on the table. Perhaps she should take a cue from Fortis and immerse herself in work as well. Then she, too, would be less inclined to spend so much thought on his return. Perhaps it would indeed be possible to simply go on from here without confronting the past. Perhaps she should just accept Fortis as he was. She could not make him love her and it was hardly his fault that once she’d thought to love him. That had been her choice.

It was clear that was what Fortis meant to do. He’d been congenial at breakfast, stating his intention of meeting the tenants. He’d asked questions about the estate while they ate, showing a considerable interest in how she’d run things. That interest had been both welcome and unnerving. On the one hand, she was grateful to be able to lay down the burden. Estate management had not come naturally to her, but she’d learned. She’d had no choice. There’d been no one else. Between herself and her land steward, Mr Benning, they had managed admirably. On the other hand, as relieved as she was to surrender the burden, there was a sense of loss, too. She had done admirably. She’d come to take pride in how she’d made ends meet and kept the estate going against considerable odds and debt. She would miss that challenge. Her role now would be reduced back to playing Lady Bountiful and delivering baskets. After seven years of free rein, it was something of a demotion.

A long arm darted around her and grabbed an apple in a lightning-quick move. ‘I’m famished!’ Fortis laughed when she whirled around, startled. He took a big, crunchy bite of the fruit and finished off the apple in four bites. He reached for another, looking entirely boyish. He might have been any one of them instead of a duke’s son. She liked the notion of that—one of them, a part of Blandford in a way he’d never been a part of it before. Before, Blandford had been a nuisance, merely a piece of land he held for his father, not a home as she saw it. She’d grown up here. It was all she knew. Yes, perhaps her earlier thought was right—with Blandford between them, they could build something together out of their marriage.

‘There’s meat and bread, too,’ she offered, smiling back. It was hard not to. His smile was intoxicating, his good humour contagious and, as long as she was honest with herself about the limits of what this marriage could provide, it was safe to indulge. This man was easy to be with, perhaps even easy to work with. The men seemed to like him. She’d heard them joking up on the roof, bits of their conversation and laughter floating down to the ground. That was new, too, or was it that she’d not had time to discover it? Had all this good will and good humour been there and she hadn’t noticed? Perhaps she’d been too wrapped up in her own needs and disappointments to truly see him? ‘Let me make you something,’ Avaline offered.

‘I can make my own bread and meat.’ He grinned, stretching around her again. The action brought his body close to her, the smell of morning soap and afternoon sweat combining for a masculine appeal all its own. He assembled a stack of bread and meat and gave her a wink. ‘Come on, let’s find a place to sit before John has us back up there slaving away again.’

‘John?’ Avaline asked in surprise. A duke’s son was on first-name basis with a tenant farmer?

‘John Wicks.’ Fortis found them a piece of grass and sat down without ceremony. She joined him, tucking her skirts beneath her.

‘I know Mr Wicks. He’s a good man. He’s a leader among the tenants. He worked with me and Mr Benning to take care of those who needed it most while you were gone.’ Something nudged at her arm and she looked down to see Fortis holding out bread and sliced ham. ‘What’s this?’

‘Your lunch. You didn’t think I grabbed all of this for me or that I would eat it all in front of you?’ He laughed. ‘Take it.’

‘Thank you, that was very...thoughtful.’

He stretched out long legs that drew the eye. ‘John speaks highly of you. He says you’ve done a masterful job of keeping the estate going. He says Benning is a good man, too.’

‘You’ll want to look over the ledgers and decide where to go from here,’ Avaline offered generously, blushing from the praise. He would never know how much it cost her to make that offer, to begin turning the estate over to him, the running of her home handed over to a veritable stranger, never mind they’d grown up as neighbouring families. Fortis was seven years older than she was. It wasn’t as if they’d roamed the fields together. He’d already had a commission in the military by the time she was thirteen.

Fortis knit his brow. ‘I’m to make the decision? It seems I might be the worst possible person to do that at this point. I’m the one who knows the least what the estate needs. It seems that perhaps Mr Benning and yourself, myself, and perhaps John Wicks and others like him should make those decisions. I’d appreciate it, Avaline, if we handled the reins of the estate together.’

He paused and she almost choked on the ham. ‘You want my input?’ she stammered.

‘Yes,’ he answered simply. ‘Unless you don’t wish to offer it? Perhaps you want to lay it all down?’

‘No. Not at all,’ Avaline said firmly lest she accidentally throw this unexpected gift away. ‘I would be pleased if you would consult me. I will help in any way I can.’

‘Good.’ He gave her an infectious grin and swallowed the last of his lunch. ‘It looks as though John wants to get back at it.’ He rose and held out a hand to help her up. It was a natural enough gesture, a casual one. But Avaline hesitated, feeling as if taking his hand signalled something more, a sealing of their partnership, or at the very least, an acknowledgement of it. Was she ready for that? She supposed she didn’t have a choice. Ready or not, Fortis was here, offering his hand, and, in time, perhaps he might offer her something more. Avaline reached up and took it, aware of all the flaws and hope that came with the gesture.

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