Chapter 25

Hugh stood at the foot of the grand staircase, his heart hammering in his chest as he waited for Harriet to descend. He had always known that his wife was a beautiful woman, had always been struck by the fire and passion that seemed to blaze behind her emerald eyes. But nothing could have prepared him for the vision of loveliness that greeted him as she stepped into view, her gown a shimmering confection of silk and lace that fell from her body in soft drapes.

For a moment, he forgot to breathe, forgot everything but the sheer, overwhelming need to take her into his arms and never let her go. But then reality came crashing back, the weight of their situation and the promise he had made settling over him like a leaden cloak.

Harriet was his wife in name only, a woman who had married him out of necessity rather than love. And though he had hoped, had dared to dream that perhaps, with time and patience, she might come to care for him as he did for her...the way she had been avoiding him since their wedding day, the careful distance she had maintained even as they went about their daily routines...it spoke volumes about her true feelings.

She regretted their marriage, regretted tying herself to a man she barely knew and could never love. And though the knowledge cut Hugh to the quick, though it made his heart ache with a pain he had never known before...he knew that he had to respect her wishes, had to give her the space and the freedom she so clearly craved.

And so, as he handed her into the carriage, as he settled onto the plush velvet seat beside her and felt the heat of her body seeping into his own...Hugh forced himself to smile, to keep his voice light and steady even as his heart threatened to shatter into a million pieces.

"Ye look beautiful tonight, Harriet," he said softly, his gaze flickering over her face, taking in the delicate flush of her cheeks and the way the candlelight played across her brown hair. "Absolutely stunnin"."

Harriet glanced up at him, her eyes wide and startled, as though she hadn"t expected him to speak. "Thank you, Hugh," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the clatter of the carriage wheels against the cobblestones. "You look rather handsome as well." Her cheeks flushed as she said this.

Hugh felt a flicker of something that might have been hope at her words, at the way her gaze lingered on his face for just a moment longer than necessary. But he quickly tamped it down, reminding himself that he had no right to expect anything more than polite civility from his wife.

They rode in silence for a while, the tension between them thick and heavy, like a physical presence in the cramped confines of the carriage. Hugh could feel Harriet"s gaze on him, could sense the unspoken questions and uncertainties that hung in the air between them.

And suddenly, he couldn't take it anymore, couldn"t bear the weight of the charade they had been playing since the moment they had exchanged their vows.

"Harriet," he said abruptly, his voice rough with emotion as he turned to face her fully. "I... I need to say something, need to clear the air between us before we arrive at the ball."

Harriet's eyes widened, her lips parting in surprise as she stared up at him. "What is it, Hugh?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly. "What's wrong?"

Hugh took a deep breath, steeling himself for the words he knew he had to say. "I know that this marriage... that our situation... is nae what ye wanted, nae what ye hoped for when ye dreamed of yer future. I know that ye regret tying yerself to me, that ye wish ye could be free to follow yer own path, to live your life on yer own terms."

Harriet opened her mouth to protest, but Hugh held up a hand, silencing her with a gentle shake of his head. "Please, let me finish. I... I see the way ye avoid me, Harriet. The way ye keep yer distance, even when we"re in the same room. And I understand, truly I do. I know that I"m nae the man you would have chosen for yerself, that our marriage is a burden ye never asked to bear."

He swallowed hard, his throat tight with emotion as he forced himself to continue. "But I want ye to know that... that ye daenae have to keep avoidin" me, Harriet. That ye daenae have to force yerself to endure my presence, I will do what I can to make it easier for ye."

Harriet stared at him, her eyes wide and stricken, as though she couldn"t quite believe what she was hearing. "Hugh, I... I don't understand. What are you saying?"

Hugh sighed, his shoulders slumping with the weight of his own resignation. "I'm saying that... that I think it would be best if I left for a while, Harriet. If I went to the estate, to see to some business there and give ye some space, some time to yerself."

He saw the flash of shock that crossed her face, the way her lips parted in a silent gasp of surprise. But he forced himself to press on, to say the words that he knew would break his own heart even as they set her free.

"Ye daenae have to come with me, Harriet. Ye can stay here, in London, for as long as ye like. I... I willnae force my presence on you, willnae make ye endure a life ye never wanted. This marriage... it doesnae have to be a prison, doesnae have to be a source of misery and regret. We can... we can find a way to make it work, to build a life together that is comfortable and easy, even if it isnae the grand passion ye once dreamed of."

Harriet was silent for a long moment, her face a mask of conflicting emotions as she stared at him. And then, slowly, she reached out and placed her hand on his arm, her touch feather-light and hesitant.

"Hugh," she started, but her courage faded. "You... you don't have to feel as though I am chasing you from the manor," she settled, but he shook his head.

"Ye daenae have to say anything, Harriet," he said softly, his voice gentle but firm. "I know that this isnae...that it isnae what ye wanted. And I willnae hold ye to a life ye never chose, to a future ye never asked for. Ye deserve far more than being caged, lass."

Harriet"s eyes widened at his words, a flicker of something that looked almost like hope sparking in their green depths. But before she could speak, before she could give voice to the thoughts that swirled behind her eyes...the carriage came to a halt, the sound of voices and laughter filtering through the closed doors.

Hugh straightened his shoulders, his jaw clenching with resolve as he prepared to face the glittering throng that awaited them. "We're here," he said softly, his voice steady despite the turmoil that raged within him. "Are ye ready, Harriet?"

She nodded, her face pale but determined as she took his arm and allowed him to help her down from the carriage. And as they made their way up the steps and into the ballroom, as they were swept up in the whirl of music and conversation and sparkling laughter... Hugh couldn"t help but feel a pang of regret, a bitter sense of loss for the future he had once dared to imagine.

But he pushed it down, buried it deep beneath the mask of polite civility and easy charm that he had learned to wear like a second skin. He would play his part, would dance and smile and make polite conversation with the glittering throng that surrounded them.

And tomorrow... tomorrow he would leave. Even if it meant breaking his own heart in the process.

So, he flashed her a stiff smile and held his arm out to her.

"Let us spend tonight smilin" at the ton," he insisted softly. "And we shall handle tomorrow as it comes."