Deanna Raybourn - The Dark Enquiry

She shrugged again and let the comment pass. “Nicholas is worried about you.”

I sighed. “I am worried about him. That is why I have come. I wonder sometimes if we did not make a terrible mistake in our marriage.”

She cocked her head to the side. “Why do you say such a thing? You love him, he loves you. These are the only facts which matter.”

“I wish it were as simple as that.” I spread my hands. “I want so badly to be part of his life, his real life—his work. And he promised I could help him with investigations if I applied myself to certain studies. I have done so, and I have proven in the past that I can be useful, to a surprising degree at times. And yet still he fights me, conceals things from me. He forces me to blunder about in secret, a far more dangerous approach,” I pointed out, warming to my theme, “and then he is enraged when I do. There is no winning with him.”

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