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“Then I want to go there. I want to read it now.”

“Of course.” Richard closed the door and led her into his room.

Jo instantly went to the bedside table and picked up the paper. She scanned it quickly until her gaze stopped and she slowly read the article, her lips moving, tears shining in her eyes.

When she was done, she didn’t hurl it away as he’d expected her to do. She didn’t rage or scream at the injustice of it, she just placed it back on the bedside table with a shaking hand. “What do we do now?”

Richard took a step toward her but she stepped back. “Nothing. We let it blow over. I don’t think you should go to the theater as that is where I expect the most backlash—”

“Why?” She looked up at him, but it was as if she didn’t see him.

“Because people can be vicious for no reason. Aristocrats… as uncivilized as we truly can be, the most they will do is cut us. And that I can live with. But if someone hurts you—” His fingers curled into fists, his anger rising just at the thought of that happening.

Jo shook her head. “I am not afraid.”

“Well, perhaps you should be.”

“People at the theater are just like me. Even if there is backlash in my place of work, it won’t be from the common people. It will be from people who think I do not deserve the title of viscountess. And they would be right.”

“Nonsense!” Richard stepped closer to her once again. “Let me deal with those people. In fact, I say we still go to Lady Supe’s ball tonight.”

She chuckled bitterly. “You must be jesting.”

“I am not.”

“You should not be attending balls right now, Richard. You should be planning an annulment.”

Richard frowned. “Why in the world would I be doing that?”

“Didn’t that thought cross your mind?” Jo asked, her gaze vulnerable.

“Never. And why would it?”

“Richard.” She was shaking her head and stepping away from him again. She didn’t believe him.

“Have I truly been such a boor that you still doubt me?”

“It has nothing to do with our past.” She hesitated. “But you were reluctant to wed me because of my common birth. And now it is clear to all the world that I am the daughter of a common whore!”

“You are my wife,” Richard growled. “My viscountess. I don’t want to hear that language toward you. Not even from yourself. And if others can’t deal with it, it’s on them.”

“Richard.” She finally stepped toward him. “It’s not too late. We can still get an annulment.”

“It is too late!” he cried. “For all I know, you could be with child now!”

“I am not. You know that.”

Richard licked his lips as he stepped even closer and took her by the arms. Why was he even arguing about the useless notion? His mind was too jumbled. He cleared his mind. “Listen to me, my dear wife. You are my wife. You always will be. You can try to come up with millions of reasons to annul our marriage or to get a divorce, but I am never going to let you go. Do you understand? Never. I love you. I swore before God to love you, honor you, and keep you in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others. Well, isn’t this”—he waved a hand toward the paper—“part of the vows?”

Jo turned her liquid eyes to his. “I don’t want to bring you suffering.”

“You can’t. All you bring me is joy and peace.”

She let out a chuckle, although tears sprang from her eyes. “Is this what peace is like?”

He took her hand and placed it against his chest. “Do you hear it?” he asked. “My heart is strong and steady. With you, I am at peace. No matter what else is happening around us. The only time my heart races around you is when you drive me wild with want.” He wiped the tears away from her cheeks. “Do not worry, my dear. You have a family now. And I shall never let you down.”

Jo nodded and hugged herself close to him, her tears soaking his waistcoat. “But do we have to go to the ball?”