When they arrived back at Stanhope House, Gil followed Rose into her bedchamber, closing the door behind him and leaning against the paneled wood. Rose ignored him, calmly walking to the armoire to remove the pearls at her throat and ears.
Her self-possession astonished him sometimes. All through that awful scene with Mrs. Hornby, she’d looked controlled and dignified, wearing the same expression he remembered from their wedding day. Calm, collected, bland. The same expression she wore now. It worried him now, that look of hers.
“We must talk, Rose.” He levered himself away from the wall and walked toward her, though he didn’t try to touch her. “What happened tonight—it was embarrassing for both of us, but we must get it in perspective. Mrs. Hornby was really quite foxed. I realise it upset you, but it is not something that should happen again.”
Rose gave an odd laugh, a scornful, disbelieving sound, and shook her head. She began to unpin her hair. Evidently, she did not intend to answer him.
“Rose—” He touched her arm lightly, but she jerked it away.
“Don’t touch me!” she hissed, and just like that, the mask cracked. Her eyes glittered with angry tears that she dashed away impatiently.
Gil stepped away, watching with concern as she began wrenching pins out of her hair until it tumbled around her shoulders, then pulled violently at her gown, trying to reach the buttons at the back. He knew she wouldn’t want his assistance, but when he heard the delicate fabric tearing, he stepped toward her again.
“Let me help you—”
“Just leave me alone,” she cried and moved farther out of his reach. “I don’t want you in here, Gil. Not tonight.”
“But we should talk about what happened.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” she gritted out and began hauling at her dress again. He didn’t see how she was ever going to reach the damned buttons.
“For God’s sake—” He reached out to her.
“Leave me alone!” she cried, backing away from him till the wall prevented her retreating any farther, a wave of hostility coming off her that was almost physical in its force.
He dragged his hand through his hair in frustration. “Why are you so angry with me, Rose? It wasn’t my fault Mrs. Hornby arrived in a drunken state.”
“I don’t care about Mrs. Hornby! Tonight was farce enough without her assistance. A dinner in our honour? With you fawning all over Mrs. Drayton at the top of the table?” She laughed harshly. “Although it is a fitting tribute to our marriage, I must admit.”
Was she was jealous? Of Tilly? He almost smiled.
“Tilly and I are merely friends,” he said soothingly. “I can assure you that she is quite devoted to Dray. She would never look at another man.”
It was her sudden stillness that made him realise his attempt at reassurance had fallen flat. She stared at him until his smile faded, and he felt himself shifting uncomfortably under her steady gaze.
“I know she’s the woman you wanted to marry, Gil.”
His mouth felt suddenly dry. “How?”
“I overheard some ladies—they were gossiping about it.”
His immediate reaction was anger. No one other than he, Tilly and their respective families had known about the almost-engagement—but Tilly must have told someone. Then he saw Rose’s distraught expression, and his own resentment withered.
“I’m sorry you heard about it in that way,” he said. “But it’s in the past, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Yes, I was going to marry Tilly. But things changed. I married you, and Tilly married Dray—”
And I’m not in love with her—I’m in love with you. But he didn’t say that. Couldn’t say it. It would have been easier to stick his hand in the fireplace.
Rose shook her head in a helpless gesture. “I know you can’t do anything about your past with Tilly. But the way you behaved after we married was something you could have helped. You chose to break your vows and dishonour me. And you chose to do it publicly so that everyone knew.”
He stared at her, bewildered. “Why drag this up now? It’s in the past.”
She looked right at him with those clearwater eyes of hers. “Is it?”
He was appalled at the implication. “Of course!” he exclaimed. “All of that is in the past. There has been no one else, not since I met you at Grayson’s ball. When we met that night, I was…” He braced himself, determined to try to make her understand. “God, Rose, I was undone, don’t you realise that? Don’t you know what that night did to me? Don’t you know what you did to me?”