She knew that she did want a future with Harry, that she liked him more than any man she had ever met. With him she felt truly alive. She had thought that if any man could help her overcome the past it would be him, that perhaps in his bed all evil might be eradicated. However, even before this latest debacle he seemed to have no wish to pursue that side of their marriage. Once upon a time his restraint had been a source of relief. Now it was fast becoming a source of hurt. It also marked a fundamental shift in her thinking that had crept up unnoticed. This latest revelation turned everything on its head. She had no idea where they would go from here.
When they dined together that evening he made no reference to the earlier discussion. Conversation was restricted to neutral topics. His manners were polished and courteous in every way, but the ease they had shared before was missing. It hurt much more than downright coldness would have done. The only thing to do was to follow his lead so she took refuge in correctness. Her appetite had vanished, but for the sake of form she forced herself to eat a little. Eventually the strain became too great and, after a suitable interval, she pleaded fatigue and excused herself, saying she would retire early. He rose at once but made no comment other than to bid her a goodnight. Sick at heart Elena made her escape.
When she had gone Harry sank back into his chair and tossed back the remainder of his wine. As soon as she was gone he had wanted to call her back but had no idea what he might say if he did. His mind was still reeling. The magnitude of his error was colossal, but even worse was the knowledge of what Elena had suffered. Her pain and her vulnerability touched him more deeply than anything else could. It was his part to keep her from hurt, not add to it. Once again he was proving to be abysmal in the role of protector.
It was much later before he came to bed. Elena didn’t stir. No doubt she had been asleep for hours, worn out by the vicissitudes of the day. He placed the candle down on the table across the room so that the light wouldn’t fall directly onto the bed and possibly disturb her. Then he began to undress.
In fact, Elena was very far from sleep but, unwilling to reveal it, she remained still and kept her eyes closed. Even so her entire being was attuned to his presence. She heard him undress and felt the familiar movement of the mattress as he climbed in beside her. She held her breath, hoping that he might reach out for her, hold her, that there might be mutual forgiveness and things could go back to the way they were before. However, he made no move to touch her. She bit her lip, telling herself not to be stupid. Of course he wasn’t going to touch her. Why would he? The thought must be anathema to him. She had handled everything so badly and now had no idea how to put it right. It crossed her mind to reach out and touch him, but she had never done such a thing before. Under ordinary circumstances it would have been a bold move, but after all that had passed between them might it not seem positively brazen? If he were to reject her she didn’t think she could bear it. The very thought of such a humiliation made her cringe inside. Tears pricked her eyelids. She lacked the necessary courage; in fact, she was lacking as a wife in every respect. She wasn’t a real woman. She would never be a real woman again.
* * *
As a consequence of the emotional upheaval the subject of the ball had been temporarily forgotten. It was resurrected the following afternoon when the gown was delivered. Elena eyed the box dispassionately.
‘I wish to goodness there were some way of getting out of the engagement.’
Concha shook her head. ‘I think you cannot, not without angering your husband further.’
‘You’re right. The only thing now is to put a brave face on the matter, but I never felt less like socialising in my life.’
‘It’s only for one night. Besides, it will provide a distraction.’ Concha eyed the box on the table. ‘Shall we have a look inside?’
‘Why not?’
The maid removed the lid and then carefully pulled aside a layer of tissue paper. Then her eyes widened. ‘Oh, my! This must have cost the earth.’
Almost reverently she lifted the dress from the box and unfolded it before holding it up for inspection. In spite of herself Elena could not refrain from uttering a gasp of delight.
‘It’s exquisite.’
Made of white silk jacquard it had puff sleeves and a low square neckline, with a fan of pleats below the bust. Below it the skirt fell away in smooth straight lines. Fine gold braid added the finishing touch to the bodice, caught in under the bosom and edging the neck and sleeves. It was a simple but elegant creation. Long gloves and a lace fan completed the ensemble along with a silken wrap.