Morwenna mustered a shaky smile for her brother-in-law. “It’s not your fault.”
Caro looked between Robert and Morwenna. “We’ll leave you alone.”
“Thank you,” Robert said through stiff lips. He waited until the others had gone, then stepped close to Morwenna without touching her. “Is this what I needed to know?”
While she didn’t back away, she regarded him warily. She reminded him of the woman who last night had seemed afraid that he might do something violent. When Silas’s valet had shaved him this morning, Robert had looked in the mirror and acknowledged that she had cause for her uncertainty. He’d arrived at Nash House looking like a complete villain. Little remained of the dashing captain she’d married. Instead she’d welcomed back a grim-visaged and ramshackle stranger with a saber slash marring his face.
“Are you very angry that I didn’t tell you?” she asked in a small voice.
Was he?
He’d spent so long concentrating on basic survival, he’d lost the habit of examining his feelings. One didn’t need the finer points of self-analysis to stay alive another day, when hope was so far gone, it was hardly a memory. One just needed the dogged will to endure.
Now he was back in London, and life wasn’t nearly so simple.
“We had so little time together before I went away,” he said thoughtfully. Since leaving her, he’d had plenty of opportunity to regret that. He’d found the woman for him, then they’d spent most of their first year of marriage apart. Now he’d made it home, that was going to change.
When a wry smile curved her lush lips, relief eased the tightness in his shoulders. At least she no longer looked ready to take to her heels. “It was enough.”
“How old is she?”
“Four.”
His daughter’s age confirmed that she was his. Not that he had any doubts. Before last night he might have questioned the child’s parentage. Morwenna had loved him, but five years was a long time to wait for a dead man.
“You feared you’re not her father.” A horrified light sparked in her eyes. Horror that turned to swift outrage. “When I said I had things to tell you, you thought I meant to confess to taking lovers.”
As he opened his mouth, he knew it was a mistake to try to defend himself. “Well, I walked in on you getting engaged to that dunderhead Garson.”
“He’s not a dunderhead,” she said hotly, drawing herself up to her full height.
“He is, if he wants to marry my wife,” Robert said with equal heat.
“Your widow.” She raised her head, haughty as a princess. Last night’s skittish creature was no longer in evidence, thank God. “And you’re the only man who’s ever slept in my bed.”
Why the devil were they fighting? Although he liked to see anger revive the spirited woman he’d wed. That vivid girl had never given him his way, just for the asking.
When he looked closely, he could see that he’d been wrong to think that their long parting had left her unmarked. She was still breathtakingly beautiful. But her loveliness now conveyed a depth and richness of character. In his bride, that had been just a promise of things to come. And the deep blue eyes that accused him of misjudging her were softer and wiser, and too familiar with grief and loss. She was no longer the carefree girl he’d married.
Of course, she wasn’t. She was a mother.
By heaven, he was a selfish cur. He’d never before considered their separation from Morwenna’s side. He’d needed every ounce of strength and determination to come back to her, and he’d been through hell in the process. But she must have been through her own hell while he was away. She’d spent all this time believing he was dead. What had that done to her?
“I know I’m the only man who’s been in your bed,” he said calmly, folding his arms and leveling an unwavering stare upon her.
She frowned. “How on earth can you know?”
“Because you made love to me as if you’d waited all this time, as if you’d missed me as I missed you. Surely you remember what we did together last night. It was spectacular.”
“What nonsense is this?” She frowned again, this time, through a blush. “Of course I remember.”
He dropped his hands to his sides. “You didn’t say anything.”
“Neither did you.”
“I thought if I spoke, you might come to your senses about what we were doing and make me stop.” More vile selfishness, damn it. But he’d needed her last night. Needed her like he needed air to breathe.
“Why on earth would I stop you? I...wanted you.”