Chapter Twenty-Six
The stillness in the room made the tension almost unbearable, but Adam held his ground, refusing to yield to the chaos threatening to overwhelm them.
His mother’s eyes darted to him, her expression a storm of hurt and confusion, but he spoke as gently as he could manage.
“First of all, David should go to France. Even farther away. But you ought to know that the duchy can’t continue to pay for his lavish lifestyle. ”
Her head snapped back as though his words had been a physical blow.
“Lavish?” she echoed, her voice trembling despite the incredulous note she tried to inject.
She shook her head slowly, as if the weight of incomprehension had settled there.
“He told me the house needs new staff and renovations before I could visit. He needs money to maintain a standard of living befitting the brother of a duke.”
Adam exhaled deeply, a bitter edge coating his tone. “He lied, Mother. As usual.” His eyes flicked briefly to Charlene, who had wrapped her arms around herself. The sight of her, so quietly retreating into herself, made something twist painfully in his chest.
His mother’s trembling turned to a vibration of indignation.
“How dare you call your brother a liar?” Her voice cracked though her attempt at authority surged on, but he could tell she lacked her earlier conviction.
He understood. She didn’t want to believe it.
“And in front of our friends’ daughter, no less! After what you’ve done with the girl!”
“Mother.” Adam instinctively reached out for Charlene’s hand, but she jerked back, the move subtle yet impactful, making his arm hang awkwardly between them.
He didn’t withdraw immediately, though her reaction stung far more than he could admit.
“He is a liar,” he pressed instead, his voice lower, firmer. “He lies whenever he opens his mouth.”
Her next words erupted like cannon fire, shaking her index finger in the air. “Name one lie!”
For a heartbeat, Adam faltered, his gaze swiveling to Charlene before returning to his mother.
The defensive set of Charlene’s shoulders nearly unspooled his composure entirely, but he gathered himself again.
His voice cut through the static. “What did he tell you about why the engagement with Charlene never came to be?”
The question struck its mark. His mother faltered, blinking rapidly as though clearing fog from her mind. But no response came.
“And why he broke his tooth?” Adam pressed, taking a cautious step forward.
Her hesitation unraveled into a pointed accusation as her gaze locked on Charlene. “She did it.”
The air thickened. Adam didn’t flinch. “Yes, that’s true.” His voice dropped, his tone a blade’s edge. “And she should have done worse, if you ask me.”
Charlene flinched visibly, her arms tightening around her body, her mouth pressing into a firm, pale line. Adam swallowed hard, his chest tightening at the sight of her retreating even further into herself.
His mother’s voice lowered, quivering under the strain of what she didn’t want to hear but felt pressed to understand.
“What are you telling me?” Her voice cracked, fingers trembling as they clutched at her skirts.
“Tell me, Charlene, what happened that you broke a vase on my son’s face? Or was that a lie, too?”
Charlene’s response came after a breathless pause, her words as fragile and quiet as paper. “It wasn’t. I did that.”
“To my son!” The words trembled out of his mother’s lips, half incredulity, half anguish.
“Yes, Your Grace.” Charlene shrank even further, her tone nearly swallowed by the weight of the moment.
His mother stepped back, the slightest wobble betraying her intent to keep control. “Why?” The demand held no heat now, only a note of raw disbelief.
Several seconds of excruciating silence passed. No one moved.
Finally, Adam stepped forward. The words were heavy in his mouth, and he steadied himself with a deep breath before letting them fall in Spanish. “He forced himself on her and he would have done worse if I hadn’t caught them. She fought back, and that’s when she broke his tooth.”
The trembling returned to his mother’s frame, violent enough now to make her waver on her feet.
Her hand fluttered to her mouth, covering it as a soundless gasp escaped.
Her eyes fixed on Adam, searching his face as though searching for any trace of exaggeration or deceit.
Tears pooled at the corners of her determined gaze, and her lips moved wordlessly before she whispered, almost inaudibly, “Sins of the flesh.”
Adam’s jaw tightened, the words cutting deeper than they intended.
He took another step forward, his voice gaining strength, but it carried no malice.
“This is what David spends his money on, Mother. A castle in France. Lavish banquets. Entertainment far removed from decency. He lives above and beyond his means with no regard for the dukedom.” His voice grew quieter, almost a solemn lament.
“With no regard for anything but his own needs.”
Only his own.
And Adam was finished with that. All of that.
*
The dowager duchess’s eyes raked over Charlene with a mix of scrutiny and contempt, as though she were deciding whether Charlene was a victor or a villain.
A warrior or a harlot. Charlene felt the weight of that gaze settle on her like armor too heavy to wear.
Her stomach churned, and her cheeks burned like fire.
The walls felt too close. She had to leave.
Her hands flew to her shawl draped over the nearby chair. She could hardly see what she was doing for the blur of emotion in her eyes. Her fingers stilled for a moment as Adam’s voice broke through the rising roar in her ears.
“Don’t go.”
She didn’t dare look at him. Her breaths came shallow and quick, her fingers fumbling with the fabric. “I’m ruined,” she said, her voice tight and brittle. “Thoroughly so. I have to go.”
“You bring shame to our family,” the dowager duchess said, breaking the tense silence with words that lashed like a whip.
Charlene froze, shoulders flinching under the coolness of the words. The duchess’s tone hadn’t risen, but its sharpness was unmistakable. It cut deeper than any accusation could have.
The air shifted with the sound of Adam’s steps. He moved in front of her, his imposing figure drawing the heat of her shame to him. His voice filled the room—not loud, but tempered steel.
“Don’t ever speak of her like this again,” he spat with measured intensity before stepping closer to his mother. His jaw tightened, his hands flexing at his sides. “Do you understand me?”
The dowager duchess, for the first time Charlene had seen, faltered.
Her eyes went wide, and her head tilted back slightly, as though his words had struck her physically.
“Are you,” she stammered, her voice quivering as her gaze darted between them, “are you telling me, mi hijo, that you… she and you?”
Adam didn’t relent. “I’ve asked her to marry me.
” His words filled the space, bold and unshakeable.
He turned to Charlene, his tone softening but losing none of its resolve.
“And if she accepts my hand, I will spend the rest of my life trying to live up to the honor, strength, brilliance, and beauty she brings to this world.” His voice, steady as a vow, made Charlene’s chest ache.
“Once you decide,” he continued, his eyes on hers, his gaze alight with something she had never dared imagine for herself, “I’d most humbly hope you’ll tell me your decision. ”
Charlene could hear the dowager duchess sucking in a breath to protest, but Adam raised a hand halfway, palm out, a soundless command for silence that the duchess obeyed without a word.
Lowering his hand, his gaze stayed locked on Charlene. “There would be nothing I’d wish more in my life than… than you, Charlene. You make my life worth living. My service to the country has meaning when I know there are people like you in this world.”
Her knees wobbled, and she felt hot tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. His words unraveled her, piece by tender piece, exposing the depths of a love she could have never hoped for.
And then Adam sank to one knee, tilting his head up to look at her. His hand found hers, careful, reverent. Her breath hitched.
“Please,” he said, his voice cracking slightly, his vulnerability laid as bare as if he were unarmed in battle. “Please say yes to me despite the face I share with the devil.”
Charlene drew a trembling breath, her eyes never leaving his as she stepped closer, her voice soft but brimming with emotion.
“Adam,” she began, her heart pounding louder than the words leaving her lips.
“The face you think you share with the devil… it’s my sanctuary.
How could you not see that? Every time I look at you, I only see the man who has fought for me, defended me, and shown me what it means to be truly loved. ”