Chapter 25
CHAPTER 25
S elina watched the Mulford estate through the carriage window as the vehicle carried her away from the building that had sheltered her for the past fortnight.
It felt surreal that it had only been that long, even though it felt like a lifetime since the first day of the house party. She guessed that her perception of time might have been altered by the changes that her life had seen in such a short time. She had fallen in love, had a torrid affair, and had her heart broken.
She should probably turn her gaze away from the window, since the Mulford estate was now like a dot in the distance. But she would rather stare at the uninteresting scenery than see the pity in their eyes.
The concern in their eyes had been suffocating from the moment she stepped into the carriage, and she feigned a fascination with the scenery to avoid them.
If she had to endure the looks they gave her any longer, she feared she would burst into tears, even though she felt there were no more tears to shed, considering that she had wept through the night and her eyes were still swollen.
Logically, she knew she was supposed to be angry with Richard for leading her on and then leaving her lonely when she had fallen for him, but emotions were a fickle thing, and they hardly flowed with logic. She missed him not just because of his physical presence but the fact that he was her soulmate. She missed speaking with him, listening to the timbre of his voice as he spoke on subjects he was passionate about. She craved his touch and the feel of his arms around her.
She was in love with him, and she had no other option than to hope that the dull ache in her chest might lessen with time and she would be free of this torment. But for the moment, she had to take one careful step after another, moving on with her life, until it didn’t feel as painful and she could be her normal self again.
“I hope that the Earl will propose as soon as we return home,” Martha piped up, probably tired of the silence. “We must prepare the house to receive suitors once we return,” she continued, vibrating with excitement.
Selina could imagine that her aunt had a huge smile on her face, complete with that dreamy look she always wore when she was excited and lost in happy daydreams.
“I cannot tell you how happy I am about this union. At least all those mamas will eat their words when they realize that my niece bagged an earl. An earl! ” Martha emphasized the title like it was one of a god.
“He is yet to propose, Auntie,” Selina said quietly. “I do not think it prudent to count our chicks before the eggs are hatched. He might decide not to propose. After all, it is the prerogative of the gentleman to change his mind.”
“He will propose,” Martha said stubbornly. “You did not see how besotted he is with you. He will not entertain the possibility of another gentleman stealing you from him. Trust me, my dear, you are as good as a countess already.”
Perhaps Selina should be happy. Many young ladies in the ton would kill to land an earl and become a countess, but she wanted to be a duchess to one duke in particular. It was a pity that he did not want it to be so. Because she knew in the depths of her heart that she would be content to be his wife even if he was not a peer.
But no matter how much you loved a man, you could not force him to accept adoration. Not when he was in love with his own misery and was content to stew in it, even if it cost him precious time that he could have spent in your arms.
Richard was foolish, stubborn, and aggravating, but he was still the man she loved, and perhaps she was even more foolish for allowing herself to fall in love with a man who had told her over and over again of his inability to marry.
Perhaps in her stupidity, she had thought that the passion between them was enough and could change his mind on the subject, but it did not. So, she had broken her own heart with her own hands. But despite the pain that felt like a permanent weight on her chest, she could not bring herself to regret anything. Every moment she had spent with him was precious. If she could go back in time, she would not change a thing, even while knowing that the outcome would be painful.
“Are you well?” Diana asked tentatively, her voice brimming with concern.
“I am,” Selina lied.
Perhaps if she did so several times over, it might become true.
Her eyes met Herbert’s. There was an unspoken pact between them to keep what he saw in the library a secret, and she could see the concern in his gaze. She quickly looked away, returning her gaze to the window.
“You do look wan, my dear,” Martha noted. “Perhaps a bath will be just the thing to bring back color into your face.”
“Yes,” Selina replied simply.
It would be nice if she could return color to her life that simply. Perhaps she wouldn’t feel so much despair.
Richard was not himself, Johanna came to that conclusion when they returned home. The charming, handsome gentleman who usually avoided her like the plague was gone, replaced by a stranger who just happened to wear her son’s face.
His face was blank, and he spent most of his days in his study staring into thin air without getting any work done. She knew this because the butler had complained to her about work piling up. She had told him to complain to Richard, and she was surprised when he told her that her vibrant, usually compassionate son had taken to snapping at servants and giving curt replies to any complaint.
That had made her raise an eyebrow, and she had stormed into his house, dismayed to see that he looked unkempt, his beard untrimmed and his clothing askew—evidence that he had shunned the servants and they were now wary of entering his study.
“Seymour,” she called quietly. When he raised red-rimmed eyes to hers, she continued. “I require your presence downstairs. I would call for a bath, so wash and come downstairs. You will have breakfast with me.”
He stared blankly at her for a long minute, and she half expected him to ignore her.
Richard had not done well with orders, at least since he went off to college and returned as a man of his own. So, she was surprised when he rose from his seat. His shoulders were a little hunched, dwarfing his usually tall figure. He staggered past her towards the door like a drunk.
Perhaps he was drunk because the stench of alcohol she caught as he moved past her was so potent she was convinced that it could kill.
Turning on her heels, she left his study and instructed the servants to draw a bath for the Duke and clean his study.
She sat at the breakfast table, waiting until he joined her. He dragged his feet in, like a man being dragged to his slaughter, and dropped into the seat opposite her without bothering to greet her or acknowledge her presence. That act further cemented her theory that he was not himself. It was no news that Richard loathed her, but he at least made sure to acknowledge her, and he valued propriety above his hatred, at least.
Now, he had taken to pushing his food around on his plate, hunched over as if there was an invisible weight on his shoulders preventing him from keeping his back straight.
“Do you not like your food?” she asked. When silence greeted her, she tried again. “Perhaps you can sit up straight. Slouching is unseemly.”
That got his attention, as he fixed her with rage-filled eyes.
“Why? Because it offends your sense of propriety? This is my house, Madam, not a dinner party. Nobody cares if I sit up straight like a rod was stuck up my arse.”
Johanna flinched at the vulgar word, but he was too angry to care.
“Nobody cares if I do not use the right spoon to eat my soup or if I am holding my fork too tightly. I am tired. Tired of all these rules. I am too exhausted to adhere to these worthless rules. Besides, I think you are the worst person to educate on propriety or the lack of it. I wager you require the lecture more than I do, with the numerous scandals you have under your belt,” he said bitterly, before popping a piece of potato into his mouth and proceeding to chew it viciously.
The force of his outburst left her speechless for some time. He might hate her, but he never used outright vulgar words when speaking to her because his training strongly suggested that he should be mindful of his language when speaking to a lady. Not that he thought her worthy of the consideration. The fact that he had abandoned even that tenet of propriety was concerning.
“Propriety is everything, Richard,” she said in an admonishing tone. “It is what makes us nobility. It is what differentiates us from the common folk. You should know this; you are a duke, after all.”
“And did Father care so much about propriety?” he asked, a cold smile touching his lips. “He was, after all, a duke as well, wasn’t he? I do not think the two of you cared about propriety as much as you preached it.
“Did you value propriety so much when both of you were comfortable having your lovers come in and out as they wished? Or when you both seemed to be running a competition for who had the most love affairs? You are hypocrites, both you and Father.”
He dropped his cutlery, so it fell onto his plate with a noisy clatter, briefly startling her.
“We definitely were not saints,” Johanna began, clearing her throat, her head bowed so that she avoided his eyes. “We did care about propriety and our reputations. That is why we were most discreet with our affairs. We kept it away from the eyes of the ton.”
“Truly?” he asked in a darkly amused voice, sitting up and then leaning forward on his elbows, his angry eyes meeting hers. “You truly think you were discreet? What about the servants? You did not think they had eyes?”
“They dare not—” she began.
“You must be delusional if you believe that you can control them. How did you think that your secret affairs became known to the ton?”
“It is just a rumor. No one believes it, since no one can provide proof,” she said with a triumphant smile.
Richard’s sardonic smile turned into one of disgust. “The two of you were very shallow and weak.”
“Language…” Johanna warned.
“You did not care about your marriage or your only son. Instead, you were more concerned with what the ton would say, checking if they noticed what you did and making sure that your masks remained intact. Making sure that all your dirty deeds remained buried in the estate so that nobody could guess how broken we were under the surface.
“That is why you were obsessed with etiquette lessons. You could not be bothered to care about your son’s upbringing, except for his manners, so that I would be the perfect foil to silence all the whispers. So that it would be difficult for them to believe that you were so terrible when you had a perfect son. I have to give it to you and Father. You two were excellent manipulators. It is high time I stop allowing you the privilege of manipulating my life.”
“You paint us as the villains,” Johanna said defensively. “But we were young once, too, and in love before our marriage turned into one of convenience, and we each turned to other lovers for comfort. It is common among the nobility—I am sure you know.”
“Yes, I do, but I doubt that those families abandon their children to pursue pleasure, and it is laughable that you did not think me worthy of your affection, but you thought me worthy to be your decoy. The perfect son who threw all the rumors about you into shadow. No matter what story you came up with to help you sleep at night, the truth remains that you valued your reputation over your own flesh and blood, and if that is not the height of hypocrisy, I do not know what is.”
With that, he stormed off, walking blindly until he found himself in his study. He went in, splashed some whiskey into a glass, and drank it at once. The burn in his throat cleared his thoughts.
He had always thought that he could not be with Selina because he didn’t want to be like his parents. He didn’t want to hurt her and turn her into a bitter person because of his need to have her for himself, but perhaps he was seeing everything the wrong way.
Yes, he was his parents’ son, and he had a healthy fear that he might turn out like them, but if there was one thing he had noted from his argument with his mother, it was the fact that he was nothing like them.
They had used him for the better part of his existence. He knew the pain of that rejection, and he knew that he was not capable of subjecting anyone to it, no matter what. He had let them win for years. He had let them prevent him from experiencing true joy, only doing things by the book. It was time to take his life into his own hands and refuse to let their mistakes stop him from experiencing the rare form of love and joy he felt in Selina’s arms.
He had to go to her, grovel, and win her back before she married another man and was lost to him forever.
Standing upright, his eyes shining with determination, he retrieved his coat and walked to the door. Just as he opened it, he spotted his mother trying to gain entrance.
“What do you want?” he asked as he donned his coat, before closing the door behind him and locking it. He headed towards the entrance, forcing her to hurry after him.
“I forgot to tell you that I found the perfect girl for you to marry.”
He ignored her and kept walking.
“Did you hear what I said?” she asked in an annoyed tone, causing him to stop at the door.
“Yes, I did, Mother,” he said, turning to flash her a bright smile. “I am going to propose to that perfect girl.”
He turned back and nodded at the butler, who opened the door, and he stepped outside.
“But you do not know who I speak of,” Johanna called after him.
Richard was not listening.