Читать книгу The Disgraced Marchioness - Anne O'Brien, Anne O'Brien - Страница 2

She turned her head. Slowly. As if it took all her effort of will to force her body to obey. To focus on the man who stood before her.

‘Eleanor. I presume that you had no suspicion of this terrible débâcle. Not the slightest hint that Thomas might have had a liaison elsewhere.’

‘No. How should I? I cannot believe it …’

‘Nor I. It does not sound like Thomas.’ Henry watched her carefully, aware of the white shade around her mouth as she skimmed the brink of control. Every instinct urged him to take her in his arms and let her cry out her frozen misery against his chest. But he could not, dared not, too unsure of her reaction to him if he made any intimate gesture. Too unsure of his feelings towards her. There was no place for pity here. And yet the bitter anger at her cold-hearted betrayal of his own love for her no longer seemed to weigh in the balance. A very masculine urge to protect took precedence.

‘That he should already have a wife and child when he … when he …’ Eleanor swallowed hard and pressed a hand to her lips to stop the words. Then, ‘I don’t know what to do.’

‘I will do all I can to help you.’