Claire couldn’t believe what was happening. The proud, arrogant Nick Rochford was leaving his bed for her, even with an injury. Was this a trick to make her feel guilty? Was he making her the bad guy? “Nick, stop it. You shouldn’t move, get back in bed!” Nothing. Her husband simply shut the door behind him, leaving with every bit of dignity left in the room.

“What a selfish man,” she grumbled to herself, but didn’t move off the couch. Doing so would feel like he had won…somehow. It didn’t make sense, she was the one with the big bed, so why didn’t she feel accomplished? Eventually, unable to sleep and blaming it on the couch, Claire got up and slipped into bed, a bit disappointed it wasn’t still warm from his body heat. She curled up, Nick’s annoying commanding voice running through her head again and again until she fell into a very restless sleep.

**************

The next morning Claire was woken by her maidservant. She had slept longer than normal, and the woman knew things would go worse if she didn’t wake the lady up. Claire blinked at the morning light, her heart sinking as soon as she realized where she was. Exhaustion was not clouding her mind as it had been last night, and the entire conversation came back to her as quickly as her eyes had opened. After getting dressed in one of her many lovely dresses, the time it took and fixing her hair giving her plenty of time to think about her next move, Claire went on her search for Nicholas. It wasn’t hard, one question to a member of the staff about which room had been readied for him last night and she found it.

A small knock was given before entering, but she’d have come in no matter what the response was. “I hope I didn’t wake you,” she said quietly, swallowing hard before slowly coming to sit at the foot of the bed, her hand gently touching the bedpost, much differently than the firm, angry grip from last night. She wore a dark green dress with white lace along the edges of the cloth, and shorter gloves that barely went up a few inches on her forearm. “I understand if you’re cross with me, but may I speak with you?”

If granted permission, or he at least didn’t object, Claire would continue. “I’m sorry. I said a lot last night, but I don’t think those much needed words actually came up.” The young woman took a deep breath, slowly letting it out before continuing. “I told myself I gave you all the necessary information before I left to take the blame off me, when in truth I realize I did not. I’m not really used to reporting to anyone with father being so busy and no mother. That wasn’t the right way to handle it, and certainly wasn’t how a lady should act with her husband.”

Apologizing was harder than she thought it would be. What would he do when she was done, laugh, tell her it was beyond forgiveness, or just not care? “No one has ever really cared where I went. Father set boundaries, but they were just meant to be broken growing up. I can’t tell you how many times I was found covered in mud after going riding when I was told it was too rainy or too cold outside,” she grinned, gazing up at him to see if he was taking her apology well. “What I mean to say is this is a little new for me, and I’ve definitely never had anyone…worry about me. I’ve always had to make decisions on my own and judge for myself what was right and wrong.” Claire paused, studying him for a moment. He was getting some color back, which had to be a good sign. “Were you really? Worried, that is. I suppose I didn’t think there should be a reason for you to be, and didn’t fully explain because I didn’t realize you would care. I thought getting out of the house would give you the time away you wanted.” Claire laughed, shaking her head. “I don’t understand you, Nick, I really don’t. Whether it was true worry or a simple lack of respect, I will inform you of my whereabouts next time, I promise. As long as you promise to be patient and reasonable,” she added, pointing a finger at him. 

“I know you did not like me going to the prison yesterday, but it was for a very good reason. That is a woman’s husband, Nick. And I…I really think those two are in love. She loves him very much, anyway.” Another sigh. “Nick, I’ve talked a lot and I feel like nothing has been accomplished. What I’m saying is I want you to come back to [i]your[/i] rightful bed and I was wrong. And if you need me I’ll probably be in the parlor reading or making a guest list. Do you think you can forgive me for acting like a child?” If only his forgiveness was the only thing she needed to be concerned about. In the back of her mind she wondered if Matthew was dead or barely hanging on. She had almost slipped up by using past tense when speaking of the man, but had caught herself in time.