[i]“Why would you not spare your time? Because you would not do it before, why would you now!”[/i]

He couldn’t believe he was arguing with Claire about it. What was it to him anyway if she thought he didn’t care about her? Nevertheless, the words escaped his mouth. “I already apologized. Would you have me beg for your forgiveness too?” He barked a humorless laugh then added, “Because I will.” 

And they she licked those lips before she started recounting the wrongs he did her, which he thought were all very valid. Nicholas listened to her, keeping a passive face and then staring her in the eyes when she dared to look at him. He let her say everything she wanted to tell him – her impressions of him and his actions. All of it was true. He had been lying to her ever since they met. His goal was to earn her trust and keep her quietly at home while he run around London doing whatever it was that he had to do. Her feelings should not matter to him. It was her name that he wanted and he already earned it. Then why argue with her?

“Our first night together,” he said slowly as if watching the events of the night happening right before his yes. “Claire, I might have been a dear friend of the Farleys, but I am from the trade. I may be rich, but I don’t have even a single drop of the precious blood that runs in your veins. I am a commoner, Claire, and you are the daughter of a duke. No matter how hard I think about it, you and I just do not fit together in one picture.” He felt that it was still true even after they were already married. “I walked away before I got attached,” which, he thought was what he should be doing. He had done it countless times to a number of women whose tally he already lost count. “And you neglected me too after our engagement. Not even a note.” His smile was sad. “I had thought you were negotiating with your father on how to get out of the marriage and was thankful that you showed up at the altar. My angry, but terribly beautiful bride.”

[i] “You continue to give kisses, but keep your hands to yourself with sweet words I feel you do not mean. After flirting that you do want more than that, of course, but make no move to prove otherwise. I want honesty, but all I feel is distance. So now I am putting up my own defenses. I would rather not expect much from you and be pleasantly surprised than expect what I want, what you say you will give, and be disappointed. So please. Please do not push me to dream of being loved again, because it hurt when it was proved to be a fantasy. Why are you doing this, aren’t things going well? If you believe I am wrong to doubt, that I should trust your charm and promises, and that children will one day come and we will smile in each other’s arms with whispers of ‘I love you”…then prove it. Give me a reason to have hope.” [/i]

She must have been lying to him as well if she was thinking of him the way she described it. All those smiles, those moments of laughter that made his heart feel light, the concern that dimmed her eyes back in the carriage when she learned that he was shot – all of it must be as unreal as the wall of lies he built around himself.

Nick was silent for a while as he watched the emotions play on her face. Claire must be unhappy with him. It might be just his ego, but Nick was not content that she was unhappy with him. To be honest, it bothered him that he felt that way towards this woman whose hat had blocked the sun from his face. And when he found his voice, he said very quietly, “I’m sorry that you feel that way about me – that I’m a charming liar who freely gives empty promises. I hope in the future that will change.” If there was a future for them. He sighed.

“I would like you and me to work, if not in a romantic way, then as friends. However, that will not happen unless you let go of your prejudices about me. I will be honest with you.” Nick sat up and leaned forward so they were at the same eye level. He touched her chin with a gloved finger and gently directed her face to look into his. “I do not like highborn ladies,” he confessed, barely speaking louder than a whisper. “I don’t like the way your kind look down on us with inferior bloodline. I don’t like that you are all spoiled girls whose ultimate goal was to be fashionably pale. I don’t like that your greatest achievement may be to marry the most eligible bachelor, preferably one with a title. I can go on and on on the things I don’t like about highborn ladies, but then I will only contradict myself because I --” 

Nick hesitated. What was he doing? He immediately looked away and let her face go. “Never mind,” he covered his hesitation with a long, heavy sigh. “It’s not important.” And then he got up, picking up a random rock, and walked to the riverbank. The gentle breeze caressed his hair, but it was nothing compared to when Claire ran her fingers through it. He stood there for a while, absorbed in his own thoughts, then before his wife could walk up to him – if she planned on joining him – he bent his body, angled his arm to be parallel with the water, and with a quick flick of the wrist, released the stone. It bounced on the water, creating ripples, and did two more before it finally surrendered. He smiled absently at Thames.