A Midsummer Night's Kiss (Howertys #1)

Chapter 36: Lies We Tell Ourselves

A line appeared between his brows as he frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"You married me. You bedded me." It amazed her she could say it without bursting into tears. Her sadness had turned into anger, and it burned hotly, fuelling her words. "You got what you wanted."

Even in the dusky room, she could see him pale. "You heard that?"

"I did," she replied stiffly. "So you will excuse me if I don't want to join you in London."

"Hell, Angel." He ran a hand through his hair. "I... That is not..."

She let out a brittle laugh. "No? Are you saying you didn't marry me so you could bed me?"

"It wasn't the only reason," he muttered.

"Spare me," she snapped, sitting up. He sat up too, and they glared at each other for a moment.

"I thought you knew me better than that," he retorted, his temper flaring. "Surely you can't believe I'd marry you only to take you to bed."

"I heard it from your own mouth!" she yelled, only to clap a hand over her mouth. She never yelled.

"Bloody hell!" Nathaniel lunged out of bed. Cursing, he pulled on his riding breeches and black Hessian boots. She watched him in silence as he jerkily pulled on his shirt, noticed it was inside out and had to take it off and wring it before putting it on again.

"Where are you going?" she asked hesitantly as he buttoned his waistcoat.

"To London," he replied shortly.

"Now?"

"Yes." He gave her a dark look. "You obviously don't want me here. I might as well leave."

"But"—she looked out the window—"it's the middle of the night."

"I shan't take up any more of your precious time with my offending presence," he said sarcastically. Grabbing his coat and pulling it on, he sketched a mocking bow. "I'll see you in a few weeks, Lady Pensington."

The door shut behind him, and with a frustrated yell, she tossed a pillow at it. Frustrating, bullheaded man!

"Go to London then," she muttered as she lay back down. "See if I will miss you."

But she suspected she would. Because no matter how angry and hurt she was, she still loved him.

Jacob burrowed his head further into the pillow as someone crashed into his room and cursed when they tripped over something. When the invader didn't appear to be leaving, he groaned and opened an eye. Pensington stood in the middle of the room, cursing at a low stool.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Jacob asked after a large yawn.

His friend turned his head to look at him. "We're leaving for London."

"What? Now?" Throwing a quick glance out the window, he was reassured that he'd not missed an entire night in the blink of an eye. It was still dark.

"Yes. Now," Pensington confirmed impatiently as he paced the width of the room.

Jacob sighed. He recognised his friend's foul temper. It wasn't the first time the marquess had made a rash decision when angry.

"Are you coming or not?"

With an annoyed look at his friend, Jacob slid out of the bed and walked over to his clothes, neatly folded on a nearby chair. "What's the rush?" he asked while he dressed.

"I just want to get to London as soon as possible."

Jacob grunted as he pulled on his riding boots. "Even if we end up meeting with highwaymen?"

"They're asleep by now."

"Are you hearing yourself?" He rolled his eyes but wasn't surprised when there was no reply to his question. His friend was obviously in a state, and he wasn't about to let him go riding to London in the middle of the night on his own. From experience, he knew he needed to let Pensington calm down before he was reasonable again.

Grabbing his coat, he pulled it on as he walked towards the door. "Let's go then."

They were halfway to the village of Bridlewood before Pensington finally spoke. "She heard us."

"What do you mean?" Jacob asked, reining in his horse so they rode alongside one another.

"She heard me say I married her to bed her."

For a moment, he wasn't sure whether he should laugh or groan. He settled on doing neither since he suspected Pensington wouldn't appreciate it right then. "And you solve that by hying off to London in the middle of the night?" he asked carefully.

"I couldn't very well stay here while she looks at me as if I'm some kind of monster," Pensington muttered, staring straight ahead and refusing to meet his eyes.

"Of course not," Jacob said sarcastically. "That would have been stupid."

Pensington turned his head to give him a dark look. He only shrugged. "You never said I had to agree with you," he reminded him.

"True," Pensington admitted, only to add dryly, "Maybe I should have."

"No, you wouldn't like me as much if I didn't tell you what an arse you are." Jacob grinned.

"I just... I can't believe she would think that's the kind of man I am."

"Yes, she only heard it from you, after all." How stupid could people be? It was obvious that Pensington's reasons for marrying his wife were not the ones he was telling himself. So why couldn't he just face the facts and get on with it? People in love were such idiots.

"True, but you know that's not the only reason I married her. She should know that, too."

"God, Pensington! Don't be such an arse," Jacob snapped, finally having lost his temper. "She heard the words from your mouth. Who is she to believe if not you? It's not as if you've bothered to tell her otherwise. How can you expect her to know something you have never told her? She's not a bloody mind-reader!"

Pensington groaned. "You're right. I'm an idiot."

"I'm glad you finally realised it. Once Parliament is in recess, you ought to crawl back to your wife and beg her to forgive your sorry arse."

"God, Wortham. You make it sound so appealing," Pensington muttered.

Jacob grinned, his good temper restored. "Don't forget to grovel. Now, let's find an inn. Travelling at night is a terrible idea."

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