The Broken Daylily

CHAPTER ELEVEN: An uncomfortable conversation

Thomas walked down the long hallway with a piece of paper in his hand. When he reached the end of the hallway, he turned around and walked back. But then he stopped.

His mind was taking him everywhere, making him doubt every decision he made – especially when it came to lady Madilyn. He had asked the butler to give her the note, but the man said he ought to do it. He was her husband after all.

He quickly agreed with him and had walked through the hallway. But when her chamber was in sight, he believed that mayhap it was better if someone else gave her the note. She would not want to see him anyway. All he was to her, was a husband she did not want and a reminder of her shameful act.

So he turned away, but then stopped. He was her husband. They should not avoid each other.

He crumbled up the paper. Twas not important anyway, merely prove of payment. He could tell her himself what it had said.

With one last swallow, he turned around and knocked on her door before he changed his mind.

"Enter," her soft voice spoke from the other side of the door.

He opened it and walked into her room. She was sitting up on the bed, a book in her hands. Her face showed signs of surprise when she saw it was him who entered her room.

Completely forgetting why he had entered her room, he pursed his lips and closed the door behind him. Slowly he walked to a chair in a corner of the room and sat down on it, well aware that she was watching him.

She remained silent as well, but what was she to say? They had been avoiding each other for weeks, and suddenly he knocked on her door. There was nothing she had to share with him.

But he wished it was different. Not that this moment was different, but that she was different. That she was someone else – a woman he married because he loved her. A woman he would not give the most hidden room of all, but a woman he would invite to sleep in the bed with him. A woman who would be on his mind every hour of the day and a woman he would want to please every time he saw her. He wanted to see her smile when he entered the room, not give him a look of surprise.

"Whyever would you be on the street in the middle of the night?" he found himself asking her.

At first she looked confused at him, but then he saw her face change as she realized what night he was talking about.

"I was on my way to The Old Fir," she answered.

"Why?" He realized he could not hide his anger and frustration, but he did not worry about it now. Her living here now was her fault.

"To find a man to take away my virtue."

"Again – why?" he asked. She did not look down, but stared him straight in the eyes.

"So that I could not marry the man my parents arranged for me to marry."

He frowned. "You thought it would be better to let a stranger take your virtue than to marry a wealthy man?"

"Anything is better than to marry that man," she spit out. "I have seen my sister crumble in the hands of her husband, a man my parents made her wed. I do not want a similar life."

"Yet you have it," he told her.

"You do not abuse me," she said. "You do not slap me, you do not hurt me. You treat me with respect. The only pain I have, is that from a bruised ego."

Thomas looked down at his hands, a bit sad by her words. Her accusations were directed at him, he knew that. He could have tried to befriend her and showed her around the house. He could have talked to her in the carriage ride. He could have told her he would marry her to save both her and their child.