Chapter 26 #2
“No.” He shook his head. “No, it is not that. It is being desperate to right the wrongs, I finally see. It is the need to tell her everything I should have said two weeks ago. It is the longing simply to see her. So, I will leave, but I will wait for her. Please just tell her that.”
Without waiting for a response, Oscar turned and walked out the door, his jaw tight and his heart treacherously aching in his chest. His body felt like lead, and he realized he had not slept since Edmund had told him about Lord Stanton.
He had spent the night chasing down Stanton’s creditors and debtors, collecting every last record of what he owed and arranging the payments.
And now, he forced his body to keep him upright as he waited on the street, watching the townhouse.
Overhead, the sky darkened, and the lights flickered on in the townhouse.
People passed Oscar by, peering at him, but he paid them no mind.
All he did was watch the door, that infernal front door he begged to open.
He waited, and he waited, and he waited.
It did not open, but he wouldn’t give up. He wouldn’t walk away again.
Soon, the sky had given way to the night, and Oscar swore he was falling asleep on his feet. He jolted hard at the sound of a doorknob turning. Backlit by the entrance hall, Isabella stood in the doorway, and his knees weakened. Heavens, she was beautiful.
“Isabella—”
“I do not care to listen to any more feeble excuses.” Isabella’s voice cut through the night.
Her words were clipped; her tone was icy.
“I have waited to hear word from you for two weeks, Oscar, and yet, you did not show yourself. I have struggled on my own and prayed that you would return to me, but you—”
“You are right,” Oscar said desperately, reaching for her, but she moved back. “You tried to fight for me, and I was cruel. I was terrible. But I will not leave you again, Isabella.”
“I want you to,” she whispered, her eyes flicking back to him. They were so round, so filled with hurt that he wanted to strike himself for causing it.
“Isabella, please. I… I am not a man who says that word often, but I cannot seem to stop saying it now.” At that, she hesitated, and Oscar knew he did not have one second to waste.
He began to speak everything, every word that tumbled out of that cold pit he had spiraled into over the last two weeks.
“I told myself you could never love a man like me,” he said.
“That the beast everybody called me was all I was, and all I would ever be. I let that fear drive me to wound the one person who ever saw more than my scars. Isabella, I thought by pushing you away I could spare you the pain of being chained to me for life. I have been wrong about everything. We are man and wife. You and I will forever be chained together. For better or worse. Until death parts us.”
And then he did something that made Isabella’s mouth part in shock. Oscar dropped to his knees, mindless of the dirty London street, mindless of anybody who walked past. All he cared about was looking up at his wife, whose eyes were glistening with tears.
“I do not ask for forgiveness, my duchess, I beg for it. I beg of you. And if you turn me away now, I will still love you until my last breath.”
Isabella’s chest heaved at that word. Love.
“You told your mother you are not in a loveless marriage, and it is true, for that is what I feel. But, Isabella, if you can find it in your heart to take me back, to love this fool of a man who never should have hurt you, then I will spend every second proving that I am yours. I will spend every waking moment meeting you in my shadows if that is what I need to do, and I will accept the hand you offered to pull me out of them. I am yours, Isabella. Not a beast. Not a duke. Just a man who desperately, endlessly loves you.”
Isabella gazed down at him. Tears silently slipped down her pretty face.
“Oscar, you are a fool,” she whispered. “For I never wanted a perfect man. I wanted you, imperfect and shadowed and scarred. I wanted you in spite of everything you think you are unworthy of. I am tired of everybody deciding my worth, but as I saw yours, you have seen mine. You have been the only person who has ever truly seen me. I have been so hurt.”
“I swear to you, Isabella,” he murmured. “I swear to you that I will truly let you lead me out of my darkness, no matter how hard it is.”
“Just do not order me to leave,” she told him, pulling him to his feet. “Not from your chambers, and not from your heart. I love you, Oscar. I love you.”
“My wife.” He cupped her face. “My beautiful wife, I love you, too.”
Isabella laughed through another sob as he pulled her face to his. He gathered her in his arms as he had ached to all this time, and he pressed his mouth to hers in a sealing kiss. Behind him, he heard footsteps pause.
“How improper,” a lady whispered, but somebody else giggled.
Oscar found he did not care.
Isabella pulled back, rolled her eyes, and leaned back in to kiss him again.
“I love you,” he murmured again between more kisses, and the sound of her soft laughter against his mouth was far brighter than anything else.