Page 51 of Along Came a Rogue

His gut tightened with self-recrimination. Until Emily, he had been one of those men.

But the little minx had changed him, in ways he could never have fathomed. He enjoyed her company, her laughter and smiles, all those amusing stories she told and the way she teased him. During the past few days, she had become a trusted friend in whom he could confide secrets he’d never been able to tell even Edward and Thomas.

And in bed, he cared more about her satisfaction than his own. He took exquisite joy in hearing her soft mewlings of desire and in feeling her body quiver with satiated pleasure, and nothing made his own climax sweeter than knowing how much she enjoyed it herself. Never had he felt that way with any woman before, just as he’d never wanted to remain in a woman’s bed afterward. He’d always wanted to flee as soon as he could scramble back into his clothes. If he’d bothered to take them off in the first place. Inexplicably, though, with Emily, fleeing was the last urge he felt.

But what kind of husband was Andrew Crenshaw if she’d never enjoyed herself with him? Emily enjoyed sex; the past few days—and nights—had certainly proven that. Had Crenshaw been so selfish and cared so little for his wife that he’d never attempted to coax her to finish, not once?

He kept his voice gentle as he dared to ask, “Emily, how was your marriage?”

She stiffened. Instantly, her happiness vanished.

Dread filled his chest. Good God. What did that man do to her? He pressed, “Emily?”

When she hesitated, he suspected she wouldn’t tell him. They’d shared a physical union, but he had no other claims on her, nor ever would. There was no reason for her to reveal this part of her past to him.

But then she whispered, “It was a good marriage match for me at the time.”

Grey said nothing, not moving a single muscle for fear she might stop.

“Father hadn’t inherited the title yet when the contract was made—truly, no one ever thought he would.” Her fingers began to move again in slow circles over his chest, but he suspected she wasn’t aware she was doing it. “I was merely the daughter of an East India Company official, and Andrew was as high as I dared reach. But he came from a distinguished family and seemingly had enough money to keep us comfortable.”

“You knew him before you married?” Not such an odd question to put to her, given the arranged marriages between society sons and daughters.

She nodded, her cheek rubbing against his chest. “He courted me.” A wistful smile pulled at her lips at the memory. “He brought me posies, took me driving in the park and on picnics, paid me all kinds of attention and flattery…It was nice. He was nice.”

His gut clenched, and he steeled himself as he asked, “Did you love him?”

“No,” she breathed, the single word bringing him an immense relief he didn’t deserve to feel. “But I’d thought—I’d hoped—that love would come in time.”

“What did Thomas think of the match?” Grey vaguely remembered that Thomas had gotten leave to travel to England for the wedding, but when he returned, he said little about it.

“He didn’t trust Andrew. He was suspicious of him from the beginning, thought him a fortune hunter and a scoundrel. Mama and Papa didn’t believe him, neither did I. He wanted me to break off the engagement, but I couldn’t. My parents wanted the marriage, and Andrew seemed like a good man. He even told me that he loved me.” Her lips twisted ruefully. “I thought Thomas was just being an overly protective brother.”

Grey’s chest sank like lead. “That was why you and Thomas had your falling-out, wasn’t it?”

She nodded, not raising her eyes. “We had a terrible row, right there in the vestibule of the church on my wedding day, when he asked me one last time to call off the wedding. But I couldn’t—the church was filled, everyone was waiting. To call it off then…” She drew a deep, shaking breath. “I was in tears as I took my vows.”

He placed a kiss on the top of her head, his heart breaking for her. “Emily, I’m so sorry.”

“But Thomas was right after all,” she whispered.

“He usually is when it comes to reading people.” Her brother had a peculiar gift for it, in fact, one that made him very effective both within the War Office and at bedding women. Certainly, he would have been able to see right through Crenshaw, even if Emily and their parents hadn’t.

She nodded and whispered so softly that he barely heard her, “Although for once I wish he’d been wrong.”

“What happened?” he asked gently, preparing himself for the worst to come.

“Andrew and I left for Yorkshire right after the wedding. That afternoon, in fact. He said he needed to get back to the farm, that he preferred to oversee it himself rather than keep an agent. I didn’t want to leave London so soon. It was my first season after being away at school, and I wanted to rent a house in Mayfair to enjoy it. But he insisted.” Her fingers combed absently at the hair sprinkled across his chest. “I found out later that we didn’t leave London so much as flee his creditors, his gambling debts, the unpaid rent…”

Grey stared down at her, expecting to see a fury on her face that matched the one boiling inside him. Instead, he saw the resignation of someone who had lived with heartbreak for far too long and no longer possessed the emotional strength to waste on anger.

“Most of my dowry went to pay off his debts, and a month into our marriage, Andrew took the rest with him when he left for York, where he continued to gamble and drink and…” Her voice trailed off.

Bed whores, Grey finished silently, a bitter taste forming in his mouth. She must have been devastated to be a bride unwanted by her husband. The betrayal she must have felt, how utterly destroyed to know he’d lied about loving her—if the bastard wasn’t already dead, Grey would have killed him himself.

“I rarely saw him after that,” she admitted with chagrin, “unless he needed money or a place to hide from his creditors.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “Even then I thought I might still be able to turn my marriage around, make it work, but it only got worse. Truly, if Andrew hadn’t been killed when he was, most likely he would have ended up in debtor’s prison.”

His gut ached for her. “You could have told your family. They would have helped you.”