A strange look passed over his face before he said, “You are the most important thing in my life, Madeline Jane Archer. Do not take your safety lightly.”
“The same goes for you, Harrison Archer. Be careful.”
“I will.” He shot her a grin. “I love you, Mads.”
She froze, her brain shutting off like a light switch as she struggled to comprehend what he’d said so casually. He . . . loved her. Hadn’t she just been wondering over his feelings? And now he’d tossed the words out like he’d said them a hundred times. Like they weren’t a surprise.
Like they wouldn’t send her reeling.
Her mouth fell open, her tongue thick, and the moment stretched. The happiness in his bright blue gaze dimmed as he studied her face, and finally he straightened his shoulders. “Travel safely,” he said, his voice rough, like pebbles were caught in his throat. Then he disappeared into the corridor, shutting the door behind him.
Oh, God. Pressing a fist to her chest, she realized she’d hurt him. He had clearly wanted her to return the sentiment . . . and she’d stood there like a dolt, gaping at him.
But he’d caught her unawares. She hadn’t expected him to throw out those three important words as he was leaving her room. Shouldn’t there have been a buildup or a warning, at least? A chance for her to compose a reply?
And what would you have said in return?
Did she love him?
Certainly, he was all she could think about, even while playing tennis. She never wanted to leave his side, desperate for his smiles and his laughter—not to mention his touch. Of course, their marriage had been an adjustment. During his three-year absence, she’d carved a perfect life for herself, one she’d planned carefully. Then he’d returned and upended everything, shifting her priorities and rearranging her future.
Yet, she was happy. Happier than she’d ever imagined, in fact.
There was no better man, no better match for her. They were like caviar and champagne, or oysters and a wedge of lemon. A tennis racket and strings. One complemented the other, making each significantly improved.
Was that love?
Yes, she believed it was.
Recalling the hurt on his face sent a spear of regret through her chest. She hated that he’d left, assuming the worst because she hadn’t immediately repeated the words back. The urge to tell him now, before he departed, galvanized her toward the door.
She hurried downstairs, lifting her skirts to avoid tripping. From a distance she heard the front door close, so she flew down the main stairs to catch him.
In the entryway, she found her parents removing their gloves and hats. “Hello, Mama, Daddy. I didn’t know you were coming back today.”
“I had a few errands to run before we joined you in Philadelphia—Madeline!” her mother exclaimed as Maddie pushed by to open the front door. “Wherever are you going?”
“I wanted to catch Harrison before he left.” She stared out onto the street, but the only vehicle in sight was the hack carrying her parents’ luggage from the train.
“You’ve just missed him,” her father said. “He was pulling out as we pulled in.”
“Oh.” Her shoulders deflated in disappointment as she came back inside.
“Send him a cable, if it’s so important,” Mama said, smoothing her hair in the hall mirror. “There’s no reason to give yourself wrinkles over it.”
“It’s fine. I’ll tell him when I see him in Philadelphia.” She took her father’s arm and began dragging him to the sitting room. “Now, please. Both of you come sit with me and catch up before I leave in a few hours.”
Six lawn tennis courts were outlined inside the Philadelphia Cricket Club, and each would hold three matches over the course of the first day. This morning, spectators were dispersed among the various courts to observe matches already in progress. Harrison had studied the schedule, discovering that Maddie’s first match was in the second half of first-round matches, which should get under way in thirty minutes.
Exhausted, he slipped his hands in his trouser pockets and stared unseeingly out at the crowd. He hadn’t slept well in four nights, not since Maddie left.
I love you, Mads.
Why had he said it? He knew she didn’t feel the same, yet the words had slipped out of his mouth. And the horrified expression she wore upon hearing the declaration was now stuck in his brain forever.
She doesn’t love you. How could she?
He’d pressured her into this marriage, maneuvered the pieces on the board until he got what he wanted. But marriage to Maddie without love was a lonely, heart-wrenching endeavor, one he hadn’t exactly thought through when putting these wheels into motion. The reality of loving a woman who didn’t love him back—again—hadn’t occurred until it smacked him in the face.
Not that he would let her go.
Patience, he reminded himself. Perhaps in time she would come to care for him a fraction of what he felt for her. And that would be enough.
It had to be.
A hand clapped his shoulder, startling him.
“There you are.” Preston stood beside him. “Thought I’d see you at the hotel last night.”
Socializing hadn’t occurred to Harrison. He’d brooded in his room with a bottle of bourbon. “Didn’t you bring Arabella?” Preston had said earlier he was bringing his mistress on the trip. “I assumed you’d be busy.”
“Yes, but I do come up for air every few hours or so, you know. We could’ve had a drink together.”
“Maybe tonight.”
“I’d like that. You look terrible, by the way.”
There went his hope not to draw attention to his mood. “I’m fine.”
“Are you worried about your lawn tennis champion? I’ve been watching the matches today and I think she’ll do just fine.”
“No, I’m not worried about that.”
“But you’re worried about something else.”
Harrison sighed. Preston was like a dog with a bone when he sensed a problem. “It’s nothing.”
“I’ll get it out of you sooner or later, you know. You might as well tell me now.”
This conversation was not one that Harrison wanted to have here, at the tennis tournament. “Tonight, all right? We’ll talk tonight.”
“Fair enough. Let’s go get a good spot over at her court.”
The current match on Maddie’s court was nearly over, so they waited until the crowd began to shift before finding a spot at the edge of the netting right up front. He was surprised at the large number of people there to watch the matches. Harrison hadn’t been to a tennis tournament of this size before; Maddie had started competing on this level only after he left for Paris. It seemed daunting, all these strangers observing and commenting as one played. Was she nervous? Would the attention bother her?
He doubted it. She was the bravest, most competitive person he knew. And she had already won several smaller tournaments this year, so she must be used to a public setting like this. He meant what he had said on the card. Regardless of how she played, he was damn proud of her.
Movement near the clubhouse caught Harrison’s attention . . . and his body tightened when his wife emerged. The entire world paused and his vision tunneled to just her.