Chapter 24 #2
Richard’s gaze moved to the man’s face, his glare murderous and imposing. Gregory visibly paled and stammered,
“R-Right. I will do so later, you have my word.”
“Your word means just as much as your children do to you, Lord Gramfield. Just do the right thing, for once.”
Without another word, Richard returned to his room, his thoughts only on Isobel the whole way there.
He had been horrified to hear her screams earlier and was certain they would haunt his dreams for a while. And when he had finally managed to break the door open, seeing her on the floor, almost lifeless, had caused his heart to sink.
He was thankful the situation had finally been resolved, but he could not ignore the lingering feeling of dismay as he thought of what that meant for them.
The final action that remained was for them to go their separate ways, but every time he thought about walking away from her, his insides twisted painfully within him.
He had barely settled down on a chair in his room when he heard a knock at the door. With a groan, he grunted.
“Whoever you are, you’d better have a good reason for bothering me at this time!”
The door opened, and Adrian walked in with a grin.
“Would gratitude suffice?” he questioned, holding a bottle of scotch and two glasses.
Richard groaned but beckoned him inside, knowing he could use the drink and tolerate the company.
“You would expect that with how often I burn the midnight candle in the name of work, I’d be more used to staying up so late. I feel as though I spent the better part of the day herding cattle, and I have not sat down since I returned.” Adrian sighed, filling their cups.
Richard held his up to his friend and then downed the entirety of its contents soon after.
“I agree. Today has been rather bothersome, in more ways than one. I do not know if I should be thankful that it is a new day or seethe with anger.” Richard stated, looking towards his window.
The sky was still dark, but he thought he could make out the sun peeking through beneath the horizon.
It was still far too early, and yet so much had happened already.
“How is Valerie?”
Adrian took a drink out of his glass, then refilled Richard’s.
“Better. She is back amongst the rest of her family, reassuring the little ones of her well-being. She decided to give Isobel as much time as she needed to rest and do whatever else she might need to do before she returned to her room.”
At the mention of Isobel’s name, Richard’s mind replayed the actions that had transpired between them hours before he’d had to pull her from a burning room.
It had been… everything he had thought it would be and more. She had been so utterly beautiful, in a way that had devastated him every time he looked at her. The taste and feel of her around his throbbing length, the sounds that spilled from her lips, which he had swallowed eagerly.
At the time, he had been more than happy to oblige her request, but now that he felt so haunted by what they had done — more so by the fact that he might never get to do it again — it devastated him deeply.
Clearing his throat, Richard mumbled,
“I am glad she is all right. Please marry her as soon as possible and take her away from this place so I never have to set foot here again.”
Adrian stared at him and leaned in to state,
“You have been acting rather differently since I arrived. Are you all right?”
Richard knew he wasn’t, even more certain that he would never be in his right senses again, but he merely nodded and tipped back the contents of his glass again.
Adrian hummed thoughtfully and shrugged.
“I owe you my thanks, friend. For giving that bastard Arnold a much-deserved beating in my stead. He is lucky I was rather preoccupied and could not give him a taste of my own fists.”
Richard shook his head, “Think nothing of it. After what had happened tonight, I had a personal score to settle with him.”
“I see,” Adrian said with an impish grin. “I wonder how that happened. That matter aside, what will you do now? Do you intend to follow through with your intentions to propose to Miss Bridget Wightman?”
“No,” Richard replied, far too quickly even to his own ears.
Adrian nodded casually, finally pouring himself a second drink and Richard his third.
“And Miss Isobel?”
“I cannot marry her,” Richard stated simply.
Because it should be that simple. They both had restrictions and reservations about the topic, and simply put, Richard could not marry her because she did not align with what he needed from his duchess.
His plans were even more pronounced by the fact that Isobel also clearly had plans for her life that involved her marrying an Almighty entity.
It was all so simple. So why did that hurt his heart so much?
Adrian grinned again, this one spelling more trouble for him than the last.
“That was not what I asked,” Adrian pointed out, smirking.
Richard glared at him darkly, but he was met with a cheeky but open expression that rendered his annoyance pointless.
With an inhale, Richard admitted,
“I think I’m in love.”
“You think? Are you not sure, or are you still not ready to confront those feelings?”
Richard paused, staring at the liquid in his glass. “Truthfully, the latter is what plagues my mind. Because admitting it will yield nothing. I do love her. She is… unlike anyone I have met before. Even more so regarding the sort of woman I would like to make my duchess.”
“Like? Or prefer? You and I both know those restrictions were born of the harsh way you were raised. It is ridiculous to pursue perfection for the sake of our titles when neither of us is perfect.”
Adrian had a point – much to Richard’s utmost annoyance. But it was still the truth he had to acknowledge, even though it was pointless.
“Regardless, marriage is not what Isobel wants. She already has plans for her future, and I cannot come in the way of that.”
Richard downed the rest of his drink, then he grimly set his empty glass on the table in front of them, pleading for a reconciliation with the loss of something he’d never had in the first place.
Then he mumbled words that felt like the final nail in his coffin, the admission requesting that he resign himself to his fate.
“At the end of the day… she does not trust me. And she likely never will.”