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Amanda was only half listening to the musical cadence of Rose’s words as she read, however. The discussion of having children had reminded her of one of her very first conversations with Sampson—the one in which she had asked him about the possibility of a wedding night, and he had informed her that no such thing would be expected.

But he did tell me that he would give me whatever I wanted. That he would give me children if I asked for such a thing.

At the time, though it had been awkward, that had seemed like a kindness.

Looking back on it now, though, she wasn’t so sure she felt the same way.

I could have married a man who actually loved me. All right, so I didn’t have any prospects like that…but who’s to say such a thing would never have come along? I could have married a man who wanted to raise a family with me, who wasn’t simply offering it to me as a favor to assuage his guilt.

Everything Sampson has ever offered me has simply taken the form of him trying to do me a favor.

The anger she had been trying to move past ever since the ball burst into full bloom once more.

If he had ever really cared about her, all he’d need to do was be honest with her. Offer her real choices. Just let her know what he was willing to provide, and what he never could…and then let her choose whether or not she really wanted it.

He feels guilty over George’s death. He says he feels responsible for the fact that my husband didn’t make it home. But the things he feels have nothing to do with me, because if they did, he would try to atone by learning what would benefit me and then offering it to me. Instead, he simply assumes he knows best and gives me what he thinks I ought to want.

Amanda didn’t know whether it was fair to say that she wished things had happened differently. That was perhaps the most maddening part of all: she really couldn’t wish away Sampson. He had provided things that she wanted and needed, and for Rose’s sake, she was grateful.

But she couldn’t help but be angry at the way he had treated her—and continued to treat her—as though she had no ability to discern what she wanted and make choices for herself.

If he had told me the whole truth, I might well have chosen to marry him anyway. But he didn’t know for sure, and he couldn’t take the risk…and now I don’t know if I’ll ever be certain of what I would have done.

The thought was enough to drive her mad.

CHAPTER 28

“And then, the moment we reached the house, she stormed away,” Sampson finished glumly. “And she hasn’t really spoken to me since then.”

Oliver surveyed him without speaking for a few moments. When he did speak, there was more humor in his tone than Sampson would have expected—and, to be honest, more than he liked to hear. “Well,” he said, “it seems to me that you need another drink, Sampson.”

Sampson didn’t argue. He sat still as Oliver flagged down a barmaid and ordered two more drinks. He wasn’t sure if the ale was making him feel better or worse, but it was certainly making him feel something different than he had for the past few days, and that was good enough for a start.

When the next round of drinks arrived, Oliver took a long sip before turning back to Sampson. “You know what you have to do, don’t you?” he asked. “It’s really as clear as day.”

“No, I don’t,” Sampson growled. “And if you do know, I think you should tell me, and not make me play guessing games.”

“I’m not trying to trick you, Sampson,” Oliver said. “What you need to do is very simple—apologize to your wife.”

“But what am I apologizing for?” Sampson threw up his hands.

“Do you really believe that you did nothing wrong?” Oliver asked.

“I know she thinks I did.”

“And what of you? What do you think?”

“I think that my best friend enjoys seeing me humbled so thoroughly that he would cling to the idea that I was in the wrong even if he didn’t believe it was really true.”

“Oh, stop that,” Oliver snapped. “You don’t actually believe I’m the kind of person who relishes seeing my friends in pain, you’re just using that as a way of discounting what I’m trying to tell you. You ought to take me seriously. If you don’t like the way things are between Amanda and yourself, apologize to her. It doesn’t even matter if you think you were in the wrong or not. You know that your words and actions upset her, so apologize for that. It’s simple enough.”

“I can’t just go around apologizing for situations where I don’t believe myself to have been in the wrong, can I?”

“Of course, you can. Don’t be so silly. You can say you’re sorry for anything, especially if you just want to keep the peace.”

“But she’s angry with me for lying to her,” Sampson pointed out. “If I fabricate an apology, isn’t that just lying again? Won’t I be doing the very thing she’s upset about? I’m in a real bind here, and I just don’t know how to get myself out of it.”

“You tell her that you’re sorry she was upset by your actions,” Oliver said. “That wouldn’t be a lie, would it?”