Donata was furiously angry with me. I did not blame her, but at the same time, she had been foolishly reckless, and I was angry with her.
When Donata was at her most angry, she became cold, retreating into aristocratic hauteur. Her bursts of temper and acid observations were not pique, I’d come to know. The cool disdain meant fury.
I saw her trying to decide whether I was as bad as her first husband, a boor of a man who’d mostly ignored Donata when he wasn’t humiliating her with everything he did. Breckenridge had been high-handed, foul-tempered, and officious, as she’d just accused me.
I’d ruined my first marriage because of my rages. My wife, weary of them, had fled with a man who was gentle with her. I was commencing my second marriage in the same fashion.
“Donata,” I began.
“Say nothing more, please.” Donata took a bite of bread. “I find myself ravenously hungry after my first sickness, and I would like to eat in peace.”
The reminder that she carried my child increased my remorse. Whether she meant it to or not, I could not say, but I sank heavily into the chair across the table from her.
“It truly was a foolish thing to do,” I said, my voice quiet.
“Mmm.” Donata gave me a severe look as she chewed. “If you intend to sit there morosely, please tell me what you stayed awake all night to impart.”
It took a few moments to calm myself. A small silver pot on a tray held coffee, but only one cup had been brought up. I rose, fetched one of the old, chipped porcelain cups I’d purchased in the market for myself long ago, and filled it with steaming brew.
Mrs. Beltan’s coffee had not improved, but I sipped it gratefully. At one time, I’d welcomed it as ambrosia. Now I’d grown used to the fragrant stuff Donata and Grenville gave me. I was becoming soft.
“I found the surgeon,” I began. “Or, rather, he found me. I took him to Grenville’s—I had no choice in not waiting for you. I either entered the coach with him there and then, or he’d be gone, never to return.”
Donata finished her bread and attacked a piece of ham. “When I’m in a more forgiving mood, I might say I understand. What did he tell you?”
I related how we’d entered Grenville’s cellars and spread out the bones, how the surgeon had fairly quickly made his assessment. “Tomorrow—or rather, today—Grenville and I will question the other surgeon he named and trace the necklace she wore.”
“I already gave you my opinion on the necklace,” Donata said. “If she was that young, it was a gift from a parent, or a grandparent. Her death must not have been the result of a robbery. The gold in it alone should be worth a great deal.”
“Indeed,” I said. My ire was rising again. I had been wrong to rage at Donata, but she was not blameless. And yet, she continued to speak to me as though the problem were resolved, me put in my place.
I swallowed my irritation. “That is the whole of my news. What did you learn from the wife of my blackmailer?”
Donata took another bite of ham, swallowed. “Very little, if anything at all. Either I am wrong, and he is not involved in any way, or he has his wife so cowed she doesn’t dare say a word against him. She was always a timid, rabbity thing.”
“I take it you speak of the gentleman who you nearly married? Before you were paired with Breckenridge?”
“Yes. Conversing with his wife, I know I had a lucky escape—if Breckenridge can be called a lucky escape. Perhaps all men are brutes, and I have been deceiving myself.”
I set down my cup. “Most gentlemen are brutish. Some, like Grenville, learn to hide it well. I never have.”
“I have always been aware of your uneven temper,” Donata said calmly. “My nature is not the most placid either.”
“I will never hurt you, Donata.” I made my voice as gentle as I could, in spite of my continued anger. “Never. I give you my word.”
Her eyes flickered, her body moving the slightest bit. She’d not expected me to say that.
“It is good of you,” she said after a time.
“My father was a great bully, and beat upon my mother most of her married life. She was too weak to fight him, and I was too small to help her. I vowed I’d never be the same. I realized even as a lad that a strong man does not need to prove his strength against those who cannot match him.”
Donata carefully laid down her fork. “I have always thought you strong. Especially after the moment you knocked my husband flat. I was delighted.”
“And came to my bed.” I remembered my dismay at finding her there. If I’d had no honor, I would have taken what she offered, but I’d turned away and left her, seeking sleep in another room.
She shrugged. “I misread your character at first, I admit. I was also not the mad adulteress you thought me. I simply did not know what to make of you. Brought by Grenville, but not his toady; no title in your family, but not cowed by those who possessed them. Hot-tempered, but turning your fists to those who deserved them. Injured but with more fire than any man I’d ever met. If I were to break my marriage vows, I wanted it to be with the army captain who’d showed the world what a horrible man my husband truly was.”
I had misread her character as well. “I am honored.”
Donata sent me a little smile. “I remember you being repulsed, not honored. I am pleased you gave me another chance.”
“When you ceased trying to be shocking and allowed me to see your true self, I was happy you gave me another chance.”
Donata’s smile faded, and something entered her eyes I couldn’t read. “Is that what we will do now?”
“You flitting about London in the middle of the night, worrying the hell out of me, is just cause for anger,” I said, an edge returning to my voice. “When no one knew where you were …” I cleared my throat. “I never want to feel like that again.”
Donata’s lips parted. Whatever guardedness was in her fled, and she came swiftly to her feet.
I started to rise, polite as ever, but her hand on my chest sent me back down. My wife landed on my lap, her arms going around my neck.
“I’m used to no one caring what I do,” she said. “I had no idea you’d even notice.”
“How could you think I’d not notice?” I cupped her face. “You are my wife. You carry my child. You are like the rarest porcelain, only much more treasured.”
Her voice went soft. “Good Lord, Gabriel, you know how to melt a woman’s heart.”
“Promise me you’ll take care. Please.”
Her fingers on my face were cool. “Promise me you’ll not shout at me as though I’m a boot boy. You are kind to them, I have observed.”
“I promise … that I will try.” I could never quite tame the beast inside me.
Donata pressed a light kiss to the mouth that had raged at her. “Your bed is not very comfortable, as you have observed to me. But I think it will do.”
I agreed that it would do very well for now. I carried her there, where we tested its comfort for much of the morning. I left my walking stick behind in the sitting room when I carried her to bed and never even noticed.
***
Brewster and Hagen were enjoying a companionable smoke when Donata and I at last made our way to the carriage waiting at the end of Grimpen Lane.
They passed a corncob pipe back and forth, discussing, with grunts, the merits of different tobaccos. It was the first time I’d seen Brewster have any sort of camaraderie with Donata’s servants.
Jacinthe, the maid, had risen while Donata and I reconciled, and had taken a meal herself in the bakeshop. Jacinthe marched behind us, the disapproval on her middle-aged face showing she agreed with me about Donata’s nocturnal adventure.
My wife and I were subdued on the way home. I had a warmth in my breastbone that seared when I thought of our hour or so in my bedroom, but also a worry. Donata was not a meek, obedient wife. She would do as she pleased, when she pleased, whether I liked it or not. I saw more storms in our future.