Candice Hern by Once a Gentleman Page A

missed a whole day’s work yesterday. I need to finish these edits and review some of the advertising contracts. I will leave you to your breakfast and newspaper.” She rose to leave, as if she couldn’t bear to be in the same room with him.
    “Please stay a moment, Pru. Sit down. We have a great deal to talk about.”
    She looked thoroughly flustered, poor girl. He hated what this marriage had done to her. Theirs had been a perfectly comfortable friendship until yesterday. Now she could barely look him in the eye, so shy of him they might have been complete strangers rather than friends of several years.
    She appeared to have had as little sleep as he did. There were purplish shadows beneath her eyes, which were reddened from lack of sleep. No, not that. She’d been crying. Damn, damn, damn.
    “Please, Pru. It’s important we talk about”—his hands made a vague gesture encompassing the breakfast table and the two of them—“all this.”
    She sat back down, perched on the edge of her chair like a governess, her back ramrod straight. “May I pour you tea?” she asked. “Or coffee?”
    Nick had been about to reach for the coffee pot, but decided to let Pru do it for him. Her first wifely duty, he supposed. “Coffee, please. With just a touch of cream.”
    He watched her pour and was pleased to see that her hands were steady. She looked so uneasy, he had half expected the cup to rattle with her trembling. She had beautiful hands. He’d nevernoticed before. Slender, long fingers and perfectly shaped nails. Just like his mother’s. An artist’s hands. He wondered if she painted.
    How little they knew each other, after all.
    He filled his plate from the dishes of food that had been set out, and thought of what he wanted to say. He’d tossed and turned throughout the night, unable to silence the thoughts that agitated his brain. Anger. Frustration. Self-pity. Blame. In one day his life had changed so dramatically, it was difficult even to grasp it all. He had not wanted marriage in his life yet. He had certainly not wanted Pru. He had big plans, big dreams, and this marriage interfered with everything.
    And it was his own fault. If only he’d taken more care about not being alone in the house with Pru. If only he’d insisted on driving her home before he left for the evening. If only he’d checked the office before going upstairs to bed.
    If only.
    The words had rung in his head throughout the night. After all that sleepless agitation, however, he’d come to a firm decision. He would not let this marriage ruin his life. Or Pru’s. Wallowing in blame and self-pity wouldn’t help matters. The thing was done. It had to be faced. Nick had determined to waste no more time feeling sorry for himself, and Pru needed to do the same. They needed to concentrate on making this marriage work, as unwanted as it was to both of them.
    “I believe we must discuss how we are to goon,” he said. “We are married, Pru. I know you didn’t want this any more than I did, but what’s done is done. We must accept it.”
    “I know.” Her voice was softer even than usual
    “We’ve always been friends. That should count for something. We can make the best of this situation, over time.”
    “Yes, of course.”
    She still wouldn’t look up at him. He needed to see her eyes. He reached across the table and tilted her chin until she was forced to look up. He almost wished he had not done so. The misery in those big blue eyes was almost palpable. Poor Pru. He had done this to her with his casual indifference to her presence in his house.
    “I am dreadfully sorry.” He kept his hand on her chin, stroking it with his thumb, trying to soothe the faint tremble that proclaimed her nervousness. “I know you must be heartsick about all this, but we will work it out. We will. But my dear, we should not waste time and energy lamenting what might have been, or resenting each other, or blaming each other. It is pointless in any case,