Page 82 of The Duchess Audition

He chewed his lip, clearly miserable. “Father doesn’t want me to feel things.”

“Your father will be better from now on,” Marina urged, her voice hitching. “He has promised me that he will. If he does not, then you must write to me, and I will… steal you away.”

Of course, she would not have dared, but she was tempted; rather, worried that she was leaving him behind to face the same ignored existence as before.

The boy brightened. “You will? You will kidnap me?”

“If I must,” she replied, forcing a smile so that he would not be too sad. “But right now, I have to go.”

His face fell again. “Please, don’t leave. Bring your uncle here instead.”

“I cannot, darling boy. He must be comfortable, and he is only comfortable at Stadley,” she said, regretful.

William straightened up and smudged the rest of his tears from his cheeks, putting on a brave face, his little chest puffed. “I will be courageous, Queen Marina. I will keep your queendom safe until you can come back.” He sniffed. “And I will tell the knight that he has to let you return. The prince says so.”

She laughed softly, sadly, and took hold of his hands, hoping fervently that this would not be the last time that she saw him… or his father.

“In that case, I am sure I will be back here in no time,” she said.

William smiled, though it did not reach his teary eyes. “I hope your uncle gets better, Marina. I hope you heal him well, like you healed me.”

“Then you must pray for us both while I am gone,” she told him. “Can you do that?”

He nodded eagerly. “I will pray every night and every morning.”

“Maybe I shall hear them at Stadley.” She pulled him in for one final hug, wishing that she could hug Anthony too.

That done, she got to her feet and, with a sorrowful wave, she left Knotgill. Perhaps for good. Perhaps not. That was not in her hands anymore.

The road back to Stadley was a lonely and troubling one, the blue skies turning grey with Marina’s mood, a light drizzle hitting the carriage windows. Her heart still pained her, no matter how she pressed it or massaged it, her mind in turmoil.

Is that why Anthony will not speak about his former wife? Because she is in an asylum?

The thought chilled her.

Is that why he has sent me away, so I do not ask him about it again? Or is it truly because I neglected my duties?

Her heart ached afresh, thinking of his cold, blank eyes and his flat tone. A world away from the warmth she had come to look forward to, and the closeness that had been growing between them.

She thought of their dance at the summer ball, she thought of how tenderly he had cared for her while she was sick, she thought of how he had offered his hand to help her down from the mezzanine, and she thought of when he had caught her in the gardens, holding her so close, leaning in as if he meant to… she did not know what.

Kiss me, perhaps?

Suddenly, she wanted to cry, hating that it had all gone so horribly wrong. And the more she wanted to cry, the more the pain in her chest spread, traveling down into her stomach, that twisted into tight knots.

Am I sick again? Is my heart weak? Have you weakened it, my husband?

She sank back against the squabs as the rain pattered against the window, and finally let herself cry, hoping she might feel better afterward. Most of all, she needed to make it look like she was entirely fine by the time she reached her uncle’s home, for she certainly could not face him with tears in her eyes.

Worrying about her would only make him worse.

CHAPTER THIRTY

“Is it too bright in here?” Marina asked, bustling about her uncle’s bedchamber, keeping herself busy so she would not have time to think about Anthony.

She moved to the window, one hand on the heavy drapes.

From the bed, Bernard chuckled. “How can it be too bright, dear niece? It is almost evening.” He smiled. “Besides, I would like to watch the sunset. It soothes me… and makes me wish I was somewhat better at poetry.”