Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

P hillip Hayward arrived at the Harington home just after breakfast the next morning and was shown to the garden where Kathrin and Marina walked and whispered together with linked arms. He watched the butler go to fetch them, his eyes following his wife's every move. On the ride over to her, Phillip was beside himself with fear and anger, but now that he was seeing her again, he felt sore with himself.

After all, it was he from whom she sought refuge here.

Kathrin and Marina approached, and Phillip's expression remained stoic. He greeted Miss Harrington, and they exchanged pleasantries.

"Miss Harrington, I would very much like to speak with the Duchess privately for a moment if it is not too much trouble."

"Who am I to keep a lady from her devoted husband?" Kathrin answered pleasantly, extracting herself from her friend and moving to go inside. "Do take your time. The two of you are both welcome to stay and dine with us for lunch."

The Duke and Duchess watched her go then silently walked back down the path Marina had just come from. Their quietude lasted for several painful minutes until, at last, Marina broke it.

"I did not mean to trouble you."

"Didn't you?"

"No. I acted on my own selfish whims and not out of spite for you. I missed my friend, and since you were away and could not approve her visit, I?—"

"I instructed the staff to allow your family and Miss Harrington to visit you whenever they please." Marina glanced at him, unconvinced.

"When was this?"

"The day my uncle visited."

"But you?—"

"I am aware of how I made it sound. I did so only out of anger." Phillip's eyes darted away from her as if he were ashamed. "It is not the people who love you and hold you dear who worry me."

"Who is it, then?"

Phillip sighed, bringing a hand up to run it through his black tresses. "I am ashamed to say."

"I am your wife. There should be no shame between us in such matters."

"No? Then when should I feel shame before my wife?"

Marina hummed thoughtfully for a moment before she answered. "When the shame stems from regarding me as anything less than your wife."

Phillip nodded and swallowed hard around the lump in his throat. He had hoped that she would be up to their usual antics, but that she answered him in earnest was an indication that there was quite some work to do to win her back. He could not have Marina taking dangerous trips by horseback for any reason but particularly not because of his own behavior.

"I am afraid that, try as I might, I have not been able to rid myself of all the poison which my father left in me."

"No?"

"No. I find that I am fearful of most of my associates but particularly of those who share my surname."

Marina was silent for a while as they circled back around to the start of the path together. They stopped at a bench, and Phillip idly reached out to touch one of her blonde curls, holding it gingerly in his palm. She wanted to shy away from the sudden display of affection, but she found that she was tethered to it—she had gone so long without feeling the warmth from Phillip toward her that she had not realized how sorely she missed it until now.

"Why not tell me that, then, rather than what you said?"

"I was in a state. I felt…as though I lacked control over a situation."

"Which situation was that?"

Phillip took a moment to think carefully. He owed her at least some form of explanation but giving part of a truth often led to the rest of it.

"Marina, my uncle is twice the man my father was, but there are some traits they do share. I love him deeply, but I do not always trust him. I…I would like to keep you from that for as long as possible. I am not yet prepared to share that part of my life. I must…I must first learn to deal with it myself before I ask you to burden yourself with it."

"That is how you feel. Have you not stopped to think that you might ask me how I feel?" Marina's expression was hard, challenging him. Phillip was not surprised—he would be sick of his self-pity as well if he were her. But he needed to find a way to convince her to believe him. They could not go on like this with his constant pushing and her reactionary pulling.

"I have. I do not know how."

Her eyes searched his, and Phillip allowed the truth of his statement to come to the surface. No one had ever inquired about his heart. How could he have learned to inquire about another's?

"You must learn." Her tone was tight and sore, but Phillip could tell from her face that she was bending. He took her hands in his and gazed into her eyes, hoping that she could see through him to the important parts of his heart—the parts that were growing to hold her dearer than he had ever imagined.

"I will aim to. Marina, I do not wish to continue to push you further without my reach."

"Your recent behavior might suggest otherwise. You are like a ghost haunting our home—there is evidence that you are there, yet I never see you."

"I thought it best that there be some space between us."

"Did you not think to tell me this?"

Phillip faltered but only for a moment. "I was not prepared to speak to you about our conversation. While I believed that you needed less proximity to me, I selfishly required time."

"Perhaps you say such things out loud in the future."

"I will make every effort."

"What is it that you were doing last night?"

Phillip seemed caught off guard by this question which sent a jolt of pain through Marina's heart. Had he come there thinking that she was merely cross about the incident with his uncle, still? Was he so arrogant to think that she would look the other way from his sudden departure?

"I had an urgent matter to attend to."

"You did not so much as leave a note. I had to inquire with the staff."

"There was no time."

"What could have been so urgent?"

This was not what Phillip Hayward expected to find when he left to fetch his wife from her friend's home. Running away seemed, to him, exceptionally childish. He watched her set her brow in a hard line, and it dawned on him that every inconvenience he had come face to face with the night before when seeking out his wife had been laid out intentionally. She had done to him precisely what he had done to her. This realization did not release him from his agitation, however.

"Have you been privy to my business matters before, Marina? Did you sit around the dinner table with your father and discuss his business?"

"I—"

"It is simply not your place. You have asked that I be more communicative—fine. You wish that I make my presence more known about the house—whenever I am able, I will do so. But this is asking too much. You are a duchess, Marina, and you ought to behave like one."