"Forgive me," she whispered.
He moved his hand from her hip to the side of her stomach then let it drift down to her side again. "There's nothing to forgive," he murmured against her ear.
Regina fisted her hands into the counterpane. She could do this. All the other ladies in England did this and so could she. It was Edward. She'd shared intimacies with him many times before; it was no different this time.
But, yes, it was. This time there was no illusion of deceit that he loved her. Her hands clenched tighter. This time his touch wasn't the same. He was touching her in all the same places and with the same movements, but for some reason, they didn't excite her body as they had in the past. Instead, they felt practiced as if everything he'd done all along had been insincere. And perhaps everything had been, to keep up the pretense that he had married her for love.
Her heart slammed in her chest and her body jerked on its own accord. Whether because of her unnerving thoughts or Edward's unnerving touch, she'd never know.
"Regina," he said, brushing his lips across her cheek.
Only yesterday, the gesture would have melted her on the spot, but not tonight. Instead of relaxing against him or moving her face to grant him better access to her cheek, she squeezed her eyes shut and said a silent prayer that he'd be done soon.
Tears filled her eyes. Everything her aunt said had come true. As much as she'd never believed herself capable of finding Edward's touch repulsive, that is exactly what it was. And because of what? Because he didn't love her. That wasn't anything new. She squeezed her eyes shut tighter to hold in the tears. Nobody in her life had ever loved her. Not her father, nor her brother, and now not even her husband.
Edward's lips moved dangerously close to hers, eliciting an uncontrollable tremble.
Immediately, Edward's hand stilled and his face pulled away from hers. "Is something the matter?"
"No."
At her hip, one of his fingers idly tapped. "Have I done something you dislike?"
"No." It wasn't really a lie. It wasn't necessarily his kisses and caresses that she hadn't liked, but the fact that he'd lied to her. And she didn't even dislike that. She loathed it. "Pray continue."
His fingers stopped their tapping and he heaved a deep sigh. Dropping his head into the pillow, he pulled Regina against his warm body.
What was he doing? Sure, he'd held her many times before-but only after they'd finished being intimate, never before.
She peeked at his face through her eyelashes. His eyes were shut. Did he intend to fall asleep without...without...?
The following minutes stretched into what felt like hours, and finally, deep breathing and soft snoring filled the air.
~Chapter Nine~
Regina took a deep breath as she neared the breakfast room. There was no reason not to join Edward for breakfast. He might have only invited her to join him during his daytime activities to assuage his guilt for lying to her in the past, but surely he hadn't shared breakfast with her for the same reason.
"Good morning, Edward," she said, gliding into the breakfast room.
He stood, startled, almost as if he hadn't expected her to come downstairs for breakfast. Perhaps she was unwanted at breakfast, too. She turned to leave.
"Stay," he encouraged, his voice uneven. He cleared his throat and gestured to the sidebar. "I didn't mean to be so brusque, I was woolgathering when you entered and you caught me unawares."
She could only imagine what he'd been pondering. Likely it had to do with one of his various ongoing experiments. She pursed her lips and allowed him to fill her plate then bring it to the table for her.
"Regina, I wanted to speak to you-"
"Is it about your plants or one of the equations you've been working on?" she asked, poking her coddled eggs.
He took a seat in the chair on the opposite side of the table from her. "No."
"Then, I don't wish to hear it."
He sighed. "Can I just explain?"
"I'm capable of reading, Edward. I don't think there is anything to explain." With all the feelings swirling inside of her, it was amazing she got the sentence out so smoothly.
He frowned at her. "I've never doubted your ability to read."
"That's good, considering that you allow me to take notes for you," she quipped.
Edward groaned. "Yesterday you informed me that you prefer honesty to heroics, and though I haven't been the best example of this so far, I, too, prefer honesty to heroics."
She knit her eyes together. "Pardon?"
Edward ran a hand through his hair. "Regina, if you're angry with me because I omitted the truth to spare your feelings, I'd rather you tell me now. There is no need to pretend otherwise."
Now it was Regina's turn to scrutinize his face. She shook her head. "I'm not angry."
His face darkened. "Regina, I will ask you one more time. That's it. This is your last chance. Are you angry with me?"
Her eyes locked with his. "No." She wasn't angry. She didn't have the ability to be angry. There wasn't a single thing he could do to remove the sting of betrayal or the overwhelming mortification she'd felt yesterday. "I'm not angry," she said for one final time.
He didn't look completely convinced, but she didn't care. "Very well." He picked up his fork and began eating, never once breaking eye contact with her.
She'd played this game with Toby for years. She had no doubt she could outlast him and held his gaze.
Bite after bite she held his gaze. She knew her place, of course. Ladies never challenged their husbands; but why not accept the challenge he'd issued, she reasoned.
By the time the meal was done, she was convinced she could describe his eyes in exact detail if asked to. Every shade, fleck and vein, she knew them all.
"You win," he said at last, pushing his plate away.
"And what is my prize?" She pressed her lips together-a bit too late it would seem. The proper lady her father had trained her to be would not be so forward. "Forgive me."
"No, no," he said, the corner of his mouth tipping up just a little. "I do have a prize. How would you like to take a trip to London?"
How about not? "London?" She hated London. Hated the gossip. Hated participating in the Season. Hated being forced to conform to the norms of a society she'd never fully be a part of. Just simply hated London.
He nodded. A shadow crossed his face. "It would seem John has found himself in trouble at Eton, and they're sending him home for the duration of the academic year."
"Oh." She'd only met John once-at their wedding- but had never thought a relative of Edward's could possibly get himself into trouble. He might have a mischievous streak reflected in his menu selection, but he didn't seem a rotten sort.
Edward picked up the crumpled paper next to him and frowned. "Sweeny sent him to my London home, likely because John told him that's where I'd be. I need to go back to London earlier than I'd planned, so I can make sure he attends his studies. Would you like to come?"
Regina bit her lip. Was he asking her because he sincerely wanted her company or because he felt he needed to offer?
As if he read her mind, he said, "I know I promised you a month in the country. But at the end of the week, we'd be going to London anyway. Perhaps you can spend those extra days getting some new gowns made up for all the invitations we'll have to accept this Season."
It wasn't much of an offer, but it was an offer all the same. One she was in no position to refuse. She and Edward would be married until they put one of them in the ground. Wounded pride would have to be pushed aside if they were to remain civil to each other. "I'd be happy to accompany you."
"Excellent. I'd like to be there as soon as possible. Would you have a problem if we left as soon as the servants ready the carriage?"
"No." She'd be glad to leave today. It'd give her something to do since now she knew better than to believe she'd be welcome to spend the day "helping" Edward.
***
With periodic stops to water the horses and take meals, the sun was just beginning to set when they arrived at Watson Townhouse.
"Allow me to introduce you to the servants here at Watson Townhouse," Edward said as he helped Regina descend the carriage.
"Of course."
Calvert, ever the dutiful butler, had all the servants lined up ready to meet their new mistress.
"I'd like you all to meet the new Lady Watson."
The row of servants all murmured their greeting.
"Regina," Edward said, gesturing to the impeccably dressed man at the front of the line. "This fellow here is Calvert. He wears only black. Sings when he thinks nobody's listening. Has bruised my backside more times than I can count for sliding down the formal banister, and has thrice refused the pension I've offered him."