“Truly,” he said, preparing himself for the tears of joy and mushy sentiments that were no doubt about to follow.

Women were silly creatures when it came to declarations of love, but at least it would gain his mother’s support, he realized. He hadn’t planned on telling her how he felt, but it was probably for the best. She’d put an end to this annulment bullshit and he could focus on more important matters like his investments. It had been several days since he’d been able to get any work done and now that Elizabeth was on the mend he could-

“Bloody hell!” he shouted, moving to yank his hand away from the vicious woman, but apparently he hadn’t moved fast enough, because his mother struck his knuckles with her fan, again.

“That’s for swearing in front of your mother!” she snapped, propping her fists on her hips as she scowled at him, making her attentions for another attack clear if he stepped out of line.

“And the first one?” he bit out, rubbing the back of his stinging hand as he glared down at his mother, but he wasn’t stupid enough to raise his voice at her. She was still gripping her fan after all.

“For lying to me!”

“I never lied to you,” he said, frowning in confusion as he thought over their conversation, wondering what she was talking about.

“If you think that you’re going to manipulate me into taking your side and looking the other way while you continue with this mistake of a marriage, then you have another thing coming, young man!” she said, jabbing that damn fan, that he was going to have to steal, in his chest as she made her point.

“I didn’t-”

“What’s going on?” his father asked, probably saving him from another rap on the-

“Ow!”

“That’s for trying to lie to me again!” she explained before he could ask.

She swiftly turned her attention on his father, who had the good sense to get the hell out of her way as she turned to storm out of the foyer. “You fix this!” she snapped at his father with a glare that clearly said there would be hell to pay if he didn’t.

“Of course, my dear,” his father muttered obediently as he watched his wife storm off.

“Where are you going?” Robert asked, watching as his father practically ran to the door seconds later.

“To my club where it’s safe,” his father said, barely sparing him a glance as he made his escape.

For a moment, he considered following his father, not really caring that it was the cowardly thing to do, but he had a sick wife that he needed to take care of first. After he made sure that Elizabeth was settled, he would consider escaping this madhouse until everyone came to their damn senses.

Chapter 30

              “What are you doing?”

              Elizabeth chewed on her bottom lip as she dropped her hairpin and picked up the small nail she’d found lying on the floor near where Robert’s jacket hung and proceeded to stick it in the keyhole, uncaring that the owner of the chest was now standing over her, looking amused.

              “Stealing your chest,” she said, even though she felt it should be more than obvious what she was doing.

              “Do you do this often?” Robert asked, placing the cup of tea that he’d promised her over a half hour ago on the small table to the right before he gently pried the nail from her hand and handed over a small, simple, but still somewhat stunning key.

              “No,” she admitted, “but I’ve decided to make an exception in this case.”

              “So, you like the chest?” he hesitantly asked, sounding a little nervous.

              “I wouldn’t be stealing it if I didn’t,” she pointed out as she slid the key inside the lock and with a satisfied sigh, unlocked the chest that she’d decided was rightfully hers twenty minutes ago when two footmen had carried it into the room.

              It was the most beautiful chest that she’d ever seen in her life. She’d never seen a piece of furniture that she’d gladly kill for before. The chest was made from the finest wood, which had been polished to perfection. Black metal strips lined the edges and corners perfectly, making it appear as though the metal and the wood were one instead of constructed together. The design in the wood was leveled, standing out in a way that complimented the black metal to perfection.

              She was sorely tempted to beg her father to buy her a matching bedroom set, something that she never would have done before, but she couldn’t. Not only would her father try to use her request against her to manipulate her into ending her marriage with Robert, but she would also be insulting her husband’s pride if she did that. He’d not only forgiven her for lying to him about the baby, offered to give her pin money when she’d brought nothing to the marriage, but he’d also turned down forty-thousand pounds to be with her. Well, so she hadn’t exactly given him a chance to turn down that money, but he could have said something.

              “It’s yours,” he said, kneeling beside her.

              “I’m glad that we agree,” she murmured absently as she raised the cover and looked inside, surprised to see what appeared to be two doors at the top, acting as another cover.

              He chuckled as he reached past her and opened the two doors, revealing two sections; the left half held a small deep tray at the top with three small drawers beneath it and the right half of the chest was lined with what appeared to be light pink silk on the bottom and three sides.

              “This is for your slippers,” he explained as he wrapped his arm around her waist and pointed to the tray at the top, “and these drawers are for your hair ribbons, handkerchiefs, books, whatever you wish to place inside them.”

              “This is really for me?” she asked, touched beyond words that he would buy her something so beautiful.

              “Mmmmhmm,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before he continued to explain the chest. “The silk will make sure that your dresses don’t get snagged on the wood and the doors will prevent them from being bounced around and wrinkled when the box is moved.”

              “It’s so beautiful,” she whispered, tracing her fingertips along the silk material.

              “You haven’t seen the best part yet,” he said, sounding quite pleased as he gripped the center divider of the tray and pushed it to the side. A small click caught her attention. She watched as the entire left side shifted to the right, sliding over the silk bottom of the right side without touching it and revealing a hidden section of the chest.

              “You can hide your money, valuables and anything else that you don’t want to be found in here,” he explained as he once again pushed the small divider, but this time towards the left. With another soft click the entire section slid back in place.

              “Oh my God,” was all she could manage, because she’d never seen anything like it before.

              “It was supposed to be your birthday present, minx, but since we’ll be leaving in a couple of weeks I thought that you should have it now. I wanted to be here when it was brought to the room, but you weren’t feeling well and I didn’t want you to have to wait for your tea,” he said, rambling on nervously for the first time since she could remember.

              “You bought this for me?” she asked, not missing the part where he’d admitted that he’d planned on giving this to her for her birthday. Since he hadn’t left the house since they’d married or her side for that matter, she realized that he’d bought this for her before he found out about the baby.

              “No,” he said, confusing her until she realized that perhaps he’d bought this for another woman. If that was the case she didn’t think that she could stomach seeing a reminder that he’d wanted another woman no matter how much she loved the chest.

              “This was made for you, minx,” he said, taking her by surprise.

              “It was?” she asked, feeling ridiculously happy that he would do something so wonderful for her when he’d professed to hate her. It made her wonder if it was possible that-

              “I made it for you.”

* * *

              “You made this?” Elizabeth asked, shooting him a questioning look before returning her attention back to the chest.

              “Yes,” he said with dread as Elizabeth looked over the chest, taking her time and studying everything more closely.

              “When did you learn to do this?” she asked, running her fingers over the silk.

              “When I was fourteen,” he said, exhaling slowly as he sat down on the floor and leaned back until his back was pressed against the foot of the bed.

              “I don’t remember you doing this sort of thing when we were children,” Elizabeth murmured, picking up her tea and taking a small sip as she continued to examine the chest.

              He shook his head. “My parents would never have allowed me to take up this hobby,” he said, not bothering to mention the reason why since they both knew.

              Women weren’t the only ones that were restricted by the rules of society. Men were as well. Even though it was very unlikely that he would ever inherit the title, he was still the son of an earl and expected to carry himself as one. He could own land, run an estate, invest and even join the army if his father bought him a commission, but there were things that he wasn’t supposed to do, never mind like.

              Carpentry was one of them.

              No man of his station was supposed to work in trade, to be a laborer, but he loved it. He loved working with his hands. He loved creating something beautiful from a pile of wood and nails. It kept him focused and allowed him to calm down when most days all he wanted to do was to drive his fist through something. It had been the only thing that had saved him from doing something truly foolish when he’d been a child.

              “Will you tell me?” she asked, placing her cup back on the table.

              He shook his head as he looked away. “I’m not sure that you want to hear this story.”

              When she gently cupped his face in her hands to pull his attention back to her, he allowed it. “Please tell me,” she said, settling down to kneel next to him on the floor so that she was facing him.

              He didn’t know where to start, wasn’t sure that he could share this with her. Knowing that there was a good chance that she would try to run away from him once he started, he took her hands in his and gently pulled her towards him. When she was close enough, he picked her up and placed her so that she was sitting across his lap.

              Once she was comfortable, he wrapped his arms around her, pleased when she laid her head against his shoulder so that he wouldn’t have to look at her when he told her what she wanted to hear.

              “You turned my life into a living hell,” he began hollowly, allowing himself to remember just how bad his life had been.

              “What?” she asked, moving to turn in his arms, but he tightened his hold on her just enough to stop her.

              “I can’t tell you this story, minx, if I have to look at you,” he explained, sighing in relief when she stopped trying to move.

              She settled back against him and whispered, “Okay.”

              “Did you know that my parents had originally refused to let me attend school?” he asked, deciding that the only way that he was going to survive this was to ease into it.

              “No, I didn’t know that,” she answered softly.

              He shifted against the bedframe, getting comfortable as he pressed a kiss to Elizabeth’s forehead, more for his benefit than hers. When she took one of his hands into hers and entwined their fingers, he knew that she understood.

              “They were afraid that I wouldn’t be able to control my problem and that the other boys would find out. They didn’t want me to be humiliated and thought it would be best if I were to work with a tutor until I outgrew my problem.”

              “What made them change their minds?” Elizabeth asked, shifting so that she could rest her head against his chest.

              “James,” he said with a smile, remembering how his older brother had fought for him. “He was always so damn protective of me.”