“I SUPPOSE I ought to mention that I am expecting guests for the weekend.”

Miriam’s statement drew all eyes to her. They were dining in the formal dining room, Nicholas at one end of the long table, Reggie at the other. Shouting distance described the length separating the lord and lady of the house. This suited Reggie perfectly. She hadn’t said a word to her husband for three days.

Miriam and Eleanor were seated facing each other at the center of the table. It was much easier to talk that way, but the two sisters had nothing to say to each other.

Sir Walter Tyrwhitt was next to Miriam. The friendly neighbor had stopped by earlier and she invited him to join them. As usual, Miriam’s manner was very different when the debonair gentleman was present. She was almost warm.

Tyrwhitt was in fact a very likable fellow. Middle-aged, a few years younger than Miriam actually, he was a fine-looking man with distinguished silver streaks running along the sides of his dark brown hair. His eyes were green. He was a farmer at heart, and never tired of talking about the land, crops, the weather. It was amusing to see how serious he could become when he spoke of these things, because he treated all other topics with casual indifference.

Nicholas put himself out to be agreeable to their guest, a great relief to all after three days of surliness. He humored Sir Walter with a good deal of talk about spring crops. Or was he humoring him? Perhaps he really was interested. Reggie was amazed at how involved he became. Was he, too, a farmer at heart? How little she knew about the man she was married to.

But his amiability did not extend to his wife. Everyone else benefited. Even Miriam received civil answers. But Reggie he ignored. It hurt. She wasn’t still angry over their argument, for she rarely stayed angry long. She was hurt because she could not forget that dream. It had seemed so real. She could not forget how it felt in his arms, how it was when he made love to her. Fool that she was, she had accepted him in her heart. Why was she such a pushover, to forgive so easily?

Miriam’s statement about guests made Nicholas frown. “The whole weekend? I take it this is not your usual dinner party?”

“No, actually,” Miriam replied. “I hope you don’t mind. I’m afraid the invitations went out right before you returned. I wasn’t expecting you to come home.”

“Nor were you expecting me to stay, I’m sure of that,” Nicholas said dryly.

Eleanor intervened before an argument began. “I think it’s a fine idea. A bit close to the London season, but that won’t start for another week or so. How many guests were you counting on, Miriam?”

“Only about twenty. Not all of them will be staying, however.”

“This isn’t your usual style, madame,” Nicholas commented. “May I ask what the occasion is?”

Miriam turned her head directly toward Nicholas so Walter couldn’t see her eyes. “Must there be an occasion?” Her eyes shot daggers at him.

“No. If you have started to enjoy large gatherings, however, I suggest you visit London this year and enjoy them to your heart’s content. You may even make use of my townhouse, now that my wife has so thoughtfully refurbished it.”

“I would not dream of leaving Silverley unattended,” Miriam said stiffly.

“I assure you, madame, I will force myself to stay here and look after the estate. I am capable of doing so, though you like to think otherwise.”

Miriam did not take the bait. He was beginning to see that she wouldn’t fight as long as Sir Walter was present. What a choice situation. What fun! But Aunt Ellie was frowning at him, and poor Tyrwhitt looked embarrassed. Regina, sweet Regina, looked down at her plate, avoiding his gaze. He sighed.

“Forgive me, mother. I did not mean to imply that I wished to be rid of you, or that you lack confidence in your only son.” He grinned as she stiffened. Perhaps there were a few small pleasures left to him. “By all means have your party. I’m sure Aunt Ellie and my wife will enjoy helping with the arrangements.”

“I have everything in hand already,” Miriam said quickly.

“Then that completes the discussion, does it not?”

Nicholas resumed eating, and Reggie shook her head. She had considered her little battles with the Countess beneath her, yet she had always been provoked. Miriam had done nothing to provoke Nicholas tonight. Why did he dedicate himself to being disagreeable?

As soon as the ladies left the men to their brandies, Reggie retired to her rooms. But Thomas was sleeping, and Meg was in the servants’ wing with Harris, and it was too early to go to sleep. Still, she refused to go downstairs. Being ignored by her husband in front of others was embarrassing.

Nicholas noticed Regina’s absence the moment he entered the drawing room, and approached Eleanor.

“Where is she?” he asked abruptly.

“She mentioned retiring.”

“This early? Is she sick?”

“My dear Nicky, where was this interest in your wife when she was with you?”

“Don’t chastise, Aunt Ellie. I believe I have been run through the mill quite enough.”

“And still you go on in your own stubborn way,” Eleanor sighed. “Which is only making you miserable—admit it.”

“Nonsense,” he said irritably. “And you don’t know all of the story, Aunt Ellie.”

She sighed, seeing the rigid set of his chin. “Perhaps. But the way you have ignored that poor girl is still deplorable. Why, I don’t believe I’ve heard you say two words to her since we arrived here.”

“More than two, I assure you.”

“Oh, you can be so exasperating, Nicholas!” Eleanor kept her voice down. “You just won’t admit that you were wrong, that you have a wonderful wife and no good reason not to cherish her.”

“I do admit that. It is my wife who now regrets her choice of husband. I once told her she would. Bitter thing,” he added, “to find yourself proved right about the one thing you wanted to be wrong about.”

She watched him walk away, her eyes sad. How she wished she could help. This was something he was going to have to solve on his own.

Much later, Nicholas entered the sitting room which divided the master bedrooms and was startled to find Regina curled up on the sofa, reading. She wore a bright aqua satin dressing gown belted at the waist, clinging enticingly to her small frame. Her midnight hair lay about her slim shoulders in sensual disarray. She lowered the book and looked at him.

Her gaze was direct. It had its usual power to jolt him. Bloody hell. Another night he’d have to spend tossing and turning.

“I thought you’d gone to bed.” Frustration made his voice sharp.

Reggie slowly lowered the book to her lap. “I wasn’t tired.”

“Couldn’t you read in your own room?”

She managed to appear unperturbed. “I hadn’t realized this room was for your exclusive use.”

“It isn’t, but if you are going to lie about half-dressed, do it in bed,” he snapped. He scowled at her for a moment, then went into his room.

Reggie sat up. So much for being available to him. What ever made her think she might be able to entice him? All she managed to arouse in him was anger. She had better remember that, she told herself.