Chapter 22
CHAPTER 22
A s he left the ballroom and headed to the library, Richard came to the conclusion that he was, in fact, his own worst enemy. The evidence of this notion lay in the fact that he kept attending social events, knowing full well that Selina would be in attendance. Hell, he attended those events just to watch her while his chest burned with conflicting emotions.
After each event, he promised himself that it was going to be the last, but every single time, he broke that promise. Like a masochist hungry for a fix, he found himself attending these events, seeking her out with his eyes the moment he stepped into the ballroom, enduring the burn of jealousy that tortured him as she twirled around the dance floor in the arms of eligible bachelors.
It was precisely because they were eligible that he could not disparage them and convince her to get rid of them. The truth remained that she would have a happier life with any one of those men than she would have with him. He knew himself best, so he knew that the scars in his soul were dangerous—disastrous even. He was damaged and unfit to take such an innocent maiden as a wife.
He knew this, but he could not bring himself to let go. She was like the brightest light shining amid the dying flames and he was the daring moth who did not mind dancing so close to the light, even if he ran the risk of being burnt badly.
Like an addict, his body wanted a piece of her any which way he could get it. A glimpse of her smile, the taste of her mouth as he kissed her senseless, the feel of her supple body in his arms. He wanted her with a hunger that was frightening, and that need was fast transforming into obsession.
It was that obsession that had pushed him to dance with her and flirt so carelessly with her, knowing how close to the fire he was playing. It was also that obsession that fanned the flames of his jealousy, which had made the ballroom unbearable to stay in after he released her for the next dance.
Watching as other men held her, their paws on her back, taking a glance down her bodice as they guided her into the dance, he went a little crazy. His insides burnt, and when he noted the besotted glances they gave her, he felt the burn growing sharper while his hold on his self-control slipped with every moment. So he left before he gave in to the urge to inflict harm on those gentlemen for the simple crime of dancing with Selina.
He walked blindly, not particularly caring in which direction he went as long as he was far away from that ballroom and the torture it held. Somehow, he had found himself on the threshold of the library. In recent weeks, the library had become his favorite room in the house, but not because of the mind edification he might receive from the huge, dusty tomes that lined those ancient shelves.
His fascination lay more with the memories the room held. Memories of him pleasuring Selina, listening to her low moans as she hit her peak. Watching with fascination as she laughed at something or watching the passion on her face when she talked about something she loved.
Standing at the door, the room looked innocent enough, burying secrets that no one might ever know. But when he closed his eyes, he could still see her in his mind’s eye.
Her back flush with the door. Her dress undone, exposing the delicious mounds of her breasts. Her skin flushed with pleasure. Her green eyes glittering with mischief. That look, more than anything, haunted him night and day, tempting him with the need to replicate it.
He was doomed because, somehow, he knew that it was not going to be possible in the future for him to enter the room without being bombarded with erotic memories of Selina. Even now, he could feel himself getting aroused, the bulge in his trousers proof that his manhood was eager to bring his fantasies to life.
He had waited for so long that he was not certain he would ever be able to resist making her his if he ever had the opportunity to touch her again. That was why he intended to avoid her like the plague, because the next time he was alone with her, he might ruin her, and he would be forced to marry her.
Walking straight to the decanter that contained brandy, he splashed some into a glass and knocked it back in one swallow, welcoming the burn in his throat and totally ignoring the frightening sense of peace inside that told him that he was not truly averse to marrying Selina.
But no matter how much his whole being craved her, he could never bring her into the chaos that was his life. He was better off watching her hate him than destroying her life.
He might have reconsidered the idea if he had not witnessed broken marriages firsthand, but he had, and it would be the height of selfishness to subject such a creature of light like Selina to the pain and heartache that would surely ensue.
Even though he had done his best to separate himself from his parents through the grooming of his actions, personality, and composure, in the end, he was still related to them by blood, and their tainted blood flowed through his veins.
There was this fear in the back of his mind that one day, no matter how hard he fought it, he would still turn out like them—bitter and selfish.
When that happened, he didn’t want to leave Selina at the mercy of the monster he was. She deserved a man who loved and appreciated her light and was ready to nurture it. A man who would worship the ground she walked on. Not a man who had dark corners in his past, too numerous to count.
Perhaps that man might be Peter, he thought bitterly, because even though he hated the man, he had to admit that he was worthy of her. The Earl came from an influential family and had a clean criminal record, as far as Richard knew.
He was also handsome in a way that reminded him of a young Adonis. He was the epitome of charm and wit. No woman was able to resist his advances, and he had his eyes on Selina.
Somehow, Richard knew that it was more than a simple affection. The Earl was besotted with her, staring at her when she talked as if she hung the moon.
Richard should know because he stared at her in the same way, but the Earl seemed to have better intentions than him.
He would not be surprised if the Earl asked for her hand in marriage; he had the look of a man who had found a soulmate, and who wouldn’t be in a hurry to snatch up the person with whom they had such a connection?
With the man’s looks and flair for good conversation, Richard would not be surprised if he managed to woo Selina by simply stimulating that beautiful brain of hers. The fact that he knew how best to woo her and his certainty that she would appreciate the gentleman’s unique wit annoyed him no end, because it meant that she would soon belong to another man.
He would be forced to watch her walk down the aisle while smiling happily at her ridiculously perfect husband. The image did nothing to quell his anger.
He was not going to attend her wedding; there was nothing to do about it. He planned to get roaring drunk the night before. He would rather endure the deathly headache that would follow in the morning than suffer the torture of watching her get married to another. Forever out of reach.
But then she had never been his, no matter how his heart sang that she could be. His heart was known to want impossible things. It had wanted his parents to get back together at some point, but looking back now with the jaded eyes of an adult, he knew that even a miracle would not have saved their marriage. They were mismatched from the very beginning. Their union was always meant to end in tragedy, and he swore he would never repeat that mistake.
Just then, he heard footsteps in the hall outside the closed doors of the library. Whoever it was, he hoped that the person did not deem it fit to come in because, at this moment in time, he did not feel like he was in the right state of mind to accommodate anyone.
Anger, jealousy, desire, and alcohol roiled like a toxic cocktail in his gut. He just wanted peace and quiet to recover enough to don his stoic mask and endure the rest of the evening.
The passerby might have heard his prayer because the footsteps stopped for a few moments and then continued, getting louder as the person came closer to his door and passed it. He was about to heave a sigh of relief when the door opened, and he was staring once again at the bane of his existence.
“Oh, you are here,” she exclaimed softly, her eyes sharpening with surprise when she saw him standing close to the table, turned halfway towards the brandy decanter, the stopper in his hand.
“I am here,” he replied as he replaced the stopper, sealing the decanter once again.
When he turned back, he saw that her eyes were fixed on his hands where they still were on the decanter.
“Do you want some?” he asked, lifting the decanter slightly.
“No,” she said, startled, her eyes darting away.
“Well, I advise you to come in. I am sure you would not be glad if we were caught alone,” he said, watching as her eyes widened with panic.
It was as if she had not realized that she had been standing in the doorway for almost a full minute.
She closed the door behind her, then walked in, her eyes darting around as if she was seeing the room for the first time. She was avoiding looking at him. Instead of feeling smug about it, he was irked.
“What are you doing here, Selina?” he asked bluntly. “I would have thought you would be happier out there, entertaining your suitors. Perhaps that way, you will be walking down the aisle soon.”
He knew that his tone was accusatory and taunting, but he could not help himself. He expected her to take offense, but he was not ready for the rage that blazed in her eyes when she turned back and stomped towards him. She did not stop until she was almost pressed against him.
“You, Richard, are a cad,” she spat, jabbing her finger into his chest. “You promised to teach me how to attract a suitor but not how to attract the suitor I want. You are quite content to throw me to the wolves while claiming you have taught me everything. You are no gentleman!”
Her chest heaved with her passion, a becoming flush spreading across her face down to her exposed bosom. Nothing spoke volumes about his madness more than the fact that he found her even more tempting at that moment, his arousal flaring even as he reminded himself that this was the reason he could never marry her.
The passion between them burned too close to the surface, and he could see that passion turning into destructive anger as easily as it could turn into maddening desire. No matter how he craved her, marriage with her would be a disaster, and no matter how selfish he was, he never wanted to watch elegant and logical Selina transform into something else under the passion that threatened to take over their senses most of the time.
He did not need to take the chance to know, and he would do anything to avoid dragging anyone into that hell.
“Selina, I have taught you everything I know. Look,” he said, waving his arm so he was gesturing in the direction of the ballroom. “You have a ton of suitors waiting in that room who would do anything to dance with you and marry you. I fail to see what the problem is.” He furrowed his brow in confusion.
Instead of calming her down, his words only threw fuel onto the burning fire of her rage.
“But I do not want any of them!” she hissed. “I have listened to your lessons, dressed in clothes that are not always comfortable, danced until my feet are covered with blisters, and learned how to play the game that the ton loves. But in the end, it failed to give me what I want.”
“What do you want, Selina?” he asked softly.
“I want a love match,” she said, her voice rising along with her rage. “I want to marry a man whom I love and who loves me back. I want everything—the butterflies that take flight in my belly at the sound of his voice, the warmth and peace that I will find only in his arms. I want to belong to him, feeling safe in the thought that he had married me for me . Not my dowry, not my title, or because I am popular. I want him to fall in love with the person I am when I do not wear my finery.
“I do not want to marry a man simply because it is convenient to do so. I want passion, and I want love. No matter how hard I have tried, I have failed to find it, at least not in the marriage mart. So, no, you are not done giving me lessons, Your Grace. You still have quite a lot to cover in order for me to get the suitor I desire. You promised me this. You promised that you would help me get married before the Season ended, but you did the opposite. You abandoned me in that wolves’ den they call the marriage mart. You left me feeling empty and alone. You are a cad.”
By the time she paused her tirade to take a breath, Richard was thoroughly dumbfounded. He had known on some level that Selina felt attached to him as he did her, but not this much.
Somehow, despite all her bluster and anger, he knew that at her core, she was hurting just as much as he was every time he told her to focus on finding a husband—because he wanted to be that husband. He wanted the legal right to touch her how he wanted. He wanted her to belong to him. His to protect, his to cherish, his to… love.
Every night, as he tried to sleep through his heartache, he wondered if he would ever desire another like he desired Selina. Would he ever feel the same sense of awe and euphoria with another woman? He doubted he would, given that it had taken thirty decades of his existence to meet a woman who made him feel that way.
Every night, he went to bed with the fear that he might end up married to a dull young lady. At one point, it had been part of his plan to marry a woman so dull that she had no chance of inspiring any kind of passion in him.
He had wanted a cold, hard marriage of convenience. But then he met Selina, and somehow, such a marriage was starting to feel like hell. It was difficult to reject the light after years of darkness and isolation.
Selina made him feel alive in ways he could not put into words, and every day that he’d led her on, he felt guilty, but he could not stop. He would not stop no matter what he told himself. He was too selfish to stop.
He had known the danger of seducing her and had watched the desire deepen with her love every day he’d pleasured her. He knew that she was falling for him, and while the gentlemanly part of him advised that he keep away from her, the primal part of him craved her with everything, insisting on keeping her for himself.
In fact, a part of him was happy that she was so lost in him that she could never have such feelings for another man.
It was wrong because he was sabotaging the same process that he claimed to be preparing her for, but the truth remained that, deep in his heart, he had always wanted her. Training her to find a husband was a ploy to spend more time with her. Only, those innocent meetings soon turned into impassioned meetings that still made him wake up at night with a raging erection.
His selfishness and desire had eventually brought him to a crossroads, and the question remained: was he going to give in to the overwhelming want that he felt for her, or would he endure the never-ending pain of letting her go?