Chapter 24
24
Constantine handed Simons his top hat and then swiftly removed his greatcoat. “Where’s the duchess?”
“In the drawing room, Your Grace.”
Excellent. Constantine hurried there, crossing the hallway in long strides. He couldn’t wait to see Modesty.
Waves of anger had coursed through his body after his visit to Carlton House. Octavius’s steed couldn’t match Icarus’s pace, but he had followed Constantine, leaving only after they’d both reached Pryde House and discussed what had transpired.
At least the quick gallop through London’s streets had helped to ease some of Constantine’s tension. But nothing would relieve him quite like burying his face in the smooth skin between his wife’s neck and shoulder.
“But Your Grace—” called Simons, but Constantine didn’t want to hear anything more.
His body thrummed with urgency to be near her.
Through the open door, he saw her standing with her back to him looking out the large window. He crossed the space between them, wrapped his arms around her waist, and pressed his lips against her skin.
Just inhaling her scent made him feel so much better.
“Modesty…” he murmured. “I missed you.”
She stiffened and turned around in his arms, facing him now. Something was wrong.
He didn’t like the strange glint in her startled eyes, the flaming blush on her cheeks.
A careful cough behind him made him freeze. He turned to find Mr. George Lockhart standing awkwardly next to the sofa, fumbling with his hands. Two teacups sat on the table along with a teapot, biscuits, and pastries.
Jealousy blazed deep within Constantine’s gut. He suddenly understood Dorian so, so well. A corroding rage clawed deep inside him.The thought of driving his fist into the other man’s face was darkly seductive, licking at the skin of his hands.
Showing physical affection in front of others was considered vulgar. Something a well-bred duke would never do.
Something the old Constantine wouldn’t have done in ten lifetimes.
And yet, there he stood, his arms still around Modesty’s waist. She was positioned very securely right against his chest.
A statement.
He stared straight into George’s eyes. “Mr. Lockhart.”
George licked his lips, avoiding Constantine’s stare and looking anywhere but at the two of them. This was his home, goddamn it, and his wife. He could do what pleased him.
“Your Grace,” mumbled George.
“What are you doing?” Modesty pushed against him, trying to free herself.
Oh, no. Not yet. He glared at George.
“You can let me go now,” murmured Modesty softly but with a stern undertone. At least one of them was maintaining their social manners.
Statement sufficiently made, he released her.
“I didn’t know you were here, Mr. Lockhart,” said Constantine.
“Yes, I—” George sent a meaningful look to Modesty, eyes wide.
Constantine didn’t like any meaningful glances passing between them at all. Modesty straightened her posture, a proper duchess in the making. She met Constantine’s eyes.
“Mr. Lockhart applied to be part of an excavation in Egypt,” she said. “He got the position, and he even secured a place for me.”
The floor under Constantine’s feet moved like a deck in a storm. Egypt…excavation…
George sent Modesty a sheepish look. “I only got the position because of the Roman ruin you let me take credit for.”
She chuckled. “It’s nothing.”
That was most certainly not nothing! She’d let him take credit for the ruin she’d found, the one with the mirror and the Pictish stone? And now he was getting all the glory?
No wonder she looked agitated. That was everything she’d ever wanted.
And he was not the one to give it to her…
He nodded, that was all he could do. A hollow ache bloomed in his chest. He should have been the one to make it possible for her, to make her dreams come true—and yet he was the one to forbid her to dig. Because of the rigid rules of propriety.
Was he right to do so? Was he not overthinking this situation? Could a duchess truly not participate in an excavation, search for ancient relics, be on the brink of a scientific discovery?
She was right. Both Patience and Chastity were duchesses and neither Dorian nor Lucien forbade them a single thing. On the contrary, they supported their wives in any way they could, celebrated their achievements, were proud their wives defied social expectations laid on women.
He wanted to do the same.
But if he did, he’d draw yet more attention to the family name. More scrutiny meant more questions. More questions meant someone might find that one crack in his ship…
The crack that would split into a gaping hole and sink him.
Or was he already going down?
“Tell me about the expedition, Mr. Lockhart,” he said.
“Certainly. The British Museum is funding my project to continue excavating the Valley of the Kings near Thebes. I will be the lead archaeologist, and I already have the artist to sketch our discoveries including hieroglyphics. I’ve hired the surveyor, theinterpreter, and two guards. Two excavation assistants are ready to go. I only need the duchess as my main assistant. My aunt is ready to accompany us to ensure all propriety—and, perhaps, the duchess could ask a friend to come.”
Constantine met Modesty’s gaze. Her eyes were shining and her smile spread on her face. “It’s not the Picts, of course…but it’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. And you could come with me.”
Constantine nodded. He could practically see her bouncing with excitement. Seeing her that way made his own heart soar. Under different circumstances, he would have laid the world at her feet. He’d fund an excavation to Egypt from his own fortune; he’d go with her and dig by her side.
Only, he couldn’t. His heart broke at the thought that the villain standing in the way of her achieving everything she ever wanted was he.
He who loved her.
“You know I can’t. My duty is here. How long is the excavation going to be?” asked Constantine.
He didn’t know how much longer he could hold his composure. The rigid rules he lived by were a stone sarcophagus, his pride sealing him inside, trapping him in a prison of his own making.
George frowned slightly. Perhaps he’d never expected Constantine to let Modesty go; perhaps he’d expected him to say no immediately. Constantine would have expected the same.
Except, the word just wouldn’t come out of his mouth, not when Modesty looked so full of life, enthusiasm, and happiness. How could he be the one to take that away?
“I estimate it will be two…maybe three years,” said George. “Of course, I understand your concern would be the duchess’s safety. And I assure you, it is my first concern, too. The guards will be with her at all times.”
“When will you leave?” asked Constantine.
He was completely numb. He felt like he was an observer now, watching himself from a distance as he prepared to ruin his own life and shatter his own heart. But he’d rather break his own heart than hers.
He loved her.
That was his way of loving her. He needed an heir, but her happiness was more important.
“In roughly two weeks,” replied George.
Constantine nodded, and just couldn’t say anything. Neither yes nor no. If she wanted to go, a few days more would be all he’d have with her.
“That’s when Augustus’s christening is,” she replied, looking into Constantine’s eyes. “I can’t.”
“We can have the christening earlier,” he said softly.
She frowned. “Are you not opposed to?—”
He gave her a gentle smile. “The christening isn’t as important as spending three years in the Valley of Kings.”
“Oh, heavens…” she said and pressed her palms to both her cheeks. “Three years… I can’t. What was I even thinking? I can’t leave Augustus alone… I promised his mother. I’m his guardian.”
Constantine forced down the knot in his throat. “He’ll be perfectly safe with me.”
“I know… But…” She looked at George and straightened her shoulders. “I can’t come with you, George. I am very honored and pleased you invited me, but there are other obligations keeping me here.”
George’s shoulders sagged slightly as he stared at the Persian carpet, fingers clenching and unclenching at his sides. When he finally looked up, his features had settled into careful blankness, though his eyes betrayed his hurt.
“Of course,” he said. “I quite understand. You’re one of the best people I’ve ever known, Duchess. Augustus is very fortunate to have you as his guardian.” He bowed. “However, should you change your mind, the ship Aurora will leave from the London docks. I bid you both good day.”
And then he left.
Modesty turned to Constantine with a calm smile on her lips, but it fell when she met his gaze. He must have been a hard sight to behold—with Mr. Lockhart’s departurehis resolve to keep his face in a polite arrangement disappeared.
She closed the two steps between them and cupped his face, searching his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
Constantine wanted to tell her everything about his true parentage, the blackmail, the Regent’s threats. But fear gripped him, choking the words before they could form.
Images flashed through his mind—Modesty’s face twisted in revulsion, society ladies whispering behind fans, his peers turning their backs, Augustus being torn from their care and raised by a stranger, Mr. Hawthorne losing the comfort and privacy of his home. The Regent’s triumphant sneer as he stripped Constantine of his title.
The worst was the thought of losing Modesty’s affection. The realization hit him like a physical blow. When had this woman become so essential to his existence? When had her happiness become more important than his pride? He’d spent his life building walls to protect his secret, yet she had somehow slipped past every defense and claimed his unworthy heart.
And now the very deception meant to protect everything he held dear threatened to destroy the one thing he couldn’t bear to lose. Because he loved her more with each passing moment. The emotion resonated through his body and soul, terrifying in its intensity. He’d never expected to find this bone-deep need to worship her, cherish her, make her dreams come true. To be worthy of the trust she placed in him.
So instead of confessing, he pulled her into a fierce embrace, burying his face in her neck. He breathed her in, making the scent of her part of his very being.
Modesty wrapped her arms around his neck. “You’re shaking. Because of Egypt?”
He shook his head.
“What’s happened?”
He pulled back, cupping her face in his hands. “I can’t tell you all of it, not yet. But I need you to know something.” He took a deep breath.“I’m terrified. Not of you going to Egypt, but of you realizing one day that I’m not the man you think I am.”
Modesty shook her head and smiled. “I know you have secrets, and you have your reasons… But whatever it is you keep private, I’ve seen glimpses of the real you—the man behind the duke. That’s the man I’m falling for.”
Falling for… God knew, he didn’t deserve her love…her faith in him. He could only hope one day he would earn her high regard. He kissed her, claiming her mouth with all the fervor of the words he couldn’t say.
As they pulled apart, Constantine said, “I want you to go to Egypt. It’s part of who you are, and I don’t want to stifle you. I want you to be happy.”
She smiled. “I am happy. You make me happy. And I cannot wait for Augustus’s christening.”
“Me, either,” he said softly. “Octavius will be the godfather…well, second godfather after me.”
She beamed. “I only hope I’ll do the christening justice even if it will be very small, with only our friends and family in attendance.”
“You will, Modesty. You’re a duchess now. You can do anything.”