Once Upon a Tower Read Online Free PDF Page B

mind, honesty was the most important thing between a husband and wife. If only her father would tell Layla that he loved her desperately, and felt hurt every time she played the coquette with other men, and if only Layla would tell her husband that she was starved for affection and felt wretched about her inability to bear a child . . .
    Well, then they would have a marriage , instead of this unending series of battles cobbled together by a wedding ring.
    She rang a bell and gave the missive to the butler, Willikins, with instructions that it be taken to Brighton without delay.
    By the next morning at breakfast it seemed that her father’s marriage had taken another turn for the worse. “Did he not come home last night, either?” Edie inquired, realizing that Layla had been crying.
    A tear rolled down Layla’s cheek and she scrubbed it away. “He only married me because I was young and presumably fertile. And now I’m not, he sees no reason to be with me.”
    “That doesn’t make sense. He’d never been very fussed about a male heir; he likes my cousin Magnus.” Edie handed her a handkerchief.
    “You’re wrong. He hates me because I haven’t had a baby.”
    “He doesn’t hate you, Layla. He truly doesn’t.”
    “ And he has decided that I have been unfaithful to him with Lord Gryphus.”
    “Gryphus? Why on earth does Father think that? Mind you, Gryphus is very pretty and I can see why his face would inspire jealousy.”
    “I don’t care how pretty he is; I haven’t broken my wed-wedding vows,” Layla said, her voice cracking. “All I did was allow Lord Gryphus to take me in to supper two or three times, when your father didn’t accompany me to a ball. I had no idea people were gossiping!”
    “I expect Father is jealous because Gryphus is your age. How unpleasant it is to think that someone must have tattled.”
    “Jonas believed that horrid gossip, without even asking me! And now he won’t—he won’t have anything to do with me, and he says that I should go to the country and direct my lover to follow me, except that I don’t have a lover!” The sentence ended with a huge sob. “He says I should be more discreet.”
    “That’s absurd, and I shall tell him so.”
    Layla reached over and caught her wrist. “You mustn’t. It wouldn’t be right. You’re his daughter.”
    Edie frowned. “Who else can set him straight? It’s a consequence of our relationship. Like Hamlet , you know. My governess tried to beat that play into my head for ages. Not much stayed with me, but I remember Hamlet moaning, ‘Oh woe, that I was born to set it straight.’ Or something along those lines.”
    “Jonas would be horribly offended if you mentioned it,” Layla said with a hiccup. “Besides, he won’t believe what you say, any more than he believes me.”
    Edie got up and sat down beside her, wrapping her arms around Layla’s shoulders. “Oh, sweetheart, he’s such a fool. He loves you. I know he does.”
    “No, he doesn’t. I caught him in the hall last night and he—he said he wished he had never married a goose like myself. I expect that he’s found someone else,” Layla said, her voice cracking again. “I’m sure of it, because he went out and didn’t come back home.”
    After a while, when Layla had pretty much stopped crying, Edie said, “Just wait a moment, dearest. I’ll be right back.”
    She ran from the room and darted down the passage. Her cello was resting in an upright stand in the spare bedchamber that she used for practice; she picked it up and carried it, walking more slowly, back to Layla’s room.
    Layla was curled up in the corner of her couch, an occasional sob still shaking her.
    Edie sat down in a straight-backed chair and adjusted her skirts so that she could position the cello between her legs. This position was by far the best for her bow hand, but of course it could be assumed only in private. Or in front of Layla, which was practically the same.
    She made