A Midsummer Night's Kiss (Howertys #1)

Chapter 36: Lies We Tell Ourselves

Angel buried her face in the pillow, wishing she had never gone past the library. Only intending to inform Nathaniel that she was going to bed, she had reached the door just in time to hear Wortham tease him about marrying her so he could bed her. Nathaniel's reply had been like a punch to the gut.

Yes, I wanted her in my bed.

The words echoed in her mind until she was ready to shove the pillow over her head to make it stop. How had she not seen it? He hadn't even tried to hide it from her. He had always said there was attraction between them, and she could not deny his desire for her. But he was too honourable to ruin her. All those kisses when she had been lost in his embrace. It had always been he who pulled away, not wanting to take advantage of his friend's sister. He certainly found a way around that, didn't he? She laughed bitterly. All he had to do was marry her.

She already knew he didn't love her. Had no intention of loving anyone. But she had believed this whole time that he was making a sacrifice by marrying her to save her from ruin, but in reality, he had done it for his own selfish reasons. She was nothing but another woman he could bed in good conscience without having to worry about his honour. That he got to play the hero by saving her was secondary. All that talk of friendship and how well-suited they were was just that... Talk. Sweet nonsense to convince her to marry him.

His silence after she confessed her feelings last night had left her heartbroken, but she had tried to put a brave face on, pretending everything was all right. But this... Finding out he only wanted her in his bed. It was the nail in the coffin. She loved him, but it was becoming more and more clear that she had been wrong about him caring, and that she meant little to him.

After overhearing the men in the library, she had gone straight to the bedroom, and by now her head hurt from crying. The hour was growing late and Nathaniel would come to bed soon. She had to pull herself together. The last thing she wanted was for him to see her upset. To see how much he hurt her. He didn't deserve that kind of power over her. Taking a deep breath, she turned onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. Continuing to take slow, deliberate breaths, she calmed down.

Not much later, the door opened and Nathaniel entered. He said nothing but must have seen she was still awake. After undressing, he padded over to the bed and gave her an unreadable look before extinguishing the candle on the bedside table. Crawling into bed, he moved over to her, but when he bent his head to kiss her shoulder, she turned her back to him.

"I have a headache," she mumbled.

She could sense him watching her, unmoving in the bed. "Very well," he finally said, lying down on the opposite side. She wasn't sure whether she was relieved or disappointed that he didn't probe her further.

They lay in silence for a while until Nathaniel quietly said, "I didn't see your valise. Did someone already carry it downstairs?"

Right. She had opened it and flung all the clothes back into the closet with the valise following suit. "I'm not coming with you to London."

The mattress shifted underneath her as he abruptly turned towards her. "What? Why not?"

"I decided I would rather stay here and familiarise myself with the house more. I still have a lot to learn about running it." It was an excuse, but it was as good as any.

"Oh." He settled back down but sounded disappointed. "I wish you'd come with me."

"Why?" The question came out more tersely than she had intended.

A warm hand settled on her shoulder. "Why won't you look at me?"

She closed her eyes, hating the fact that she still loved his every touch. It wasn't fair. Turning around to look at him, his handsome face etched in the faint light of the full moon outside their window, she met his eyes. "I see no reason to come to London," she said, steeling herself. "You got what you wanted from me. In fact, I think we should consider separate bedrooms."