Free Jilted in January by Kate Pearce Page A

only man who had ever stood up for her…
    He must surely resent what had happened to him. A gentleman of his standing and family, penniless or not, could’ve married into the aristocracy with ease. But he was stuck with her because her brother had trapped him.
    Rose turned around and marched back into the bedroom.
    “We don’t have to tell anyone, you know.”
    He was out of bed and already half-dressed, having obviously availed himself of the cold water in the jug.
    “Tell anyone what?”
    She gestured toward the bed. “That we did that.”
    He put down the drying cloth. “Consummated our marriage?”
    “Yes.”
    “Why shouldn’t we?”
    “Because then you could be free of me, and we could seek an annulment.”
    He stared at her for a long moment. “Is that what you want?”
    “It’s not about what I want, Colin. It’s about being fair to you. My brother forced—”
    He cut across her. “I married you in good faith.”
    “You were coerced !”
    “Do you really value yourself so poorly?”
    She gaped at him, her hand pressed to her breast. “That’s not fair.”
    “Neither is your assumption that I need a get-out clause!” His blue eyes sparked fire. “Do you truly think I lack a spine ?”
    “Not at all. I—”
    He picked up his coat and cravat. “My father has made it his life’s work to make me feel as unnecessary and useless as possible. I will not stand for it from my wife.” He bowed. “I will take my breakfast downstairs and return to my office. Good day, Mrs. Ford.”
    Rose sank down on the side of the bed. Oh dear Lord. She’d just made things worse. But how to convince him that she’d only spoken out from a need to protect him and not because she thought he lacked worth? She hadn’t liked the Earl of Schull and his sneering attitude to the wedding party and his son. The earl obviously had a lot to answer for.
    Rose groaned. She’d been married less than a day, and she was already in trouble. She had to remember that Colin was her friend and attempt to make matters right with him as soon as possible.
    If only he would let her.

    It was so late that Colin begged breakfast from the cook in the kitchen, endured the well-meaning jokes and jests about his wedding night, and took his food to his office. After he’d eaten, he opened his daily ledger and stared determinedly at his scribblings. The letters danced around. He attempted to concentrate again. All he could see was the hurt in Rose’s eyes.
    “Damnation!” He smacked his palm on the open page.
    Had he possibly overreacted to Rose’s attempts to extricate him from their marriage? He’d woken up in the best of moods, eager to start married life, and ended up storming out of their bedchamber like a character from a bad play. The thing with being married was that, unlike being an actor, at some point he would need to speak to her again without a script.
    He cradled his head in his hands and groaned. A knock at the door had him looking up as Rose sailed into the room and took the seat in front of his desk. She’d dressed in one of her old brown dresses and braided her hair. For a moment, he wished he had the money to buy her silks and satins and jewelry and…
    He cleared his throat. “I suppose I should add infantile to the list my father holds of my character flaws.”
    “I have noticed that one’s parents and siblings do tend to bring out the worst in a person.” She studied her joined hands, avoiding his gaze.
    “Indeed.” Colin took a deep breath and came around the desk. He went down on his knees in front of Rose’s chair. “Will you forgive me?”
    “For storming out? Certainly. You did have some cause.”
    “Not with you.” He searched her face, saw the worry and hurt etched there, and reached for her hand. “I let my own sense of inadequacy overwhelm me.”
    “No, I believe that was me.” She managed a watery smile. “I was… upset about what David did, not about you, so I am equally guilty and should be