Chapter 2
JOHN
For the past five years, John Liddell, the Earl of Ravensworth, had been a miserable, insufferable, arse of a man. He could admit it to himself, at least in his darkest moments. It’s not that he wanted to be so. Quite the opposite, in fact.
For the first two years after he’d left, he’d drowned himself in drink and other fleeting comforts, desperately trying to numb the weight that seemed to press against his chest with every waking breath.
For the next three years, he was consumed by regret and longing, realizing what a dolt he’d been, wishing he had found the strength to be the man she deserved.
The list of self-recriminations grew longer with each passing day.
And now there she was. The woman he should have married. The one who had never been far from his thoughts, even when he had done everything he could to banish her memory, convinced they could never be. Because they couldn’t. They were well past that.
But fate—or he assumed more accurately, his meddling sister—had intervened, and the still beautiful Maddie had run right into him.
His body had been far too aware when hers pressed against his, and he was the worst kind of cad for the way he responded.
But it had been far too long since he’d been with anyone, and if she hadn’t jumped back, one brush of friction against her and he might have come undone.
Literally. In his tan breeches for all to see.
John shifted his hands in front of him as he drank in the sight of her, feeling something hot twist within his chest. He might have meant to exude fearless confidence when he first saw her, had he even known she would be in attendance.
But she was so close and so unexpected that he barely managed a hoarse murmur.
“Maddie,” he said, unable to find any other words.
What would he even say that wouldn’t require a prepared speech?
And besides, he hadn’t expected to see her ever again.
He’d done everything possible to ensure it.
Besides making his wishes explicitly known to his sister, it would seem.
Maddie opened her mouth as if she might say something, but then closed it again and bolted.
She hurried toward the staircase, quite deliberately fighting to get away from him.
He deserved it. Each step she took was a silent accusation, a reminder of the insurmountable distance he had created between them.
The only upside was that coming face to face with the pain he’d caused had successfully relieved him of his physical reaction, although Maddie was even more breathtaking than he remembered.
And she had been quite a vision all those years ago when he had seen her for the first time with her long chestnut hair draped around her shoulders and gray eyes sparkling with love for him.
Now the emptiness he saw there was a vivid reminder of promises made and broken by his own issues.
He willed his feet to move, to go after her and confess that he was quite aware that he’d been a fool.
But his voice was still caught somewhere in his throat, tangled with longing and guilt and that familiar paralysis that seized him when emotions overwhelmed.
For five years, she had been the one constant in his fevered thoughts, and now that she was here—so suddenly, so painfully close—he found himself stripped of words and immobilized by the familiar darkness that had become his companion.
“You didn’t think it was going to be that easy, did you?
” His sister’s voice, amused yet tender, cut through the roaring in his ears.
He turned to find her regarding him with an arched brow and a look of sympathy that instantly irritated him.
He didn’t need pity—least of all from Rosina, who had orchestrated this entire disaster.
John ran a hand through his hair, fighting to suppress the tide of emotions threatening to drown him. The familiar numbness beckoned, offering an escape from the intensity of feelings. “I didn’t ask you to meddle in this,” he replied through gritted teeth.
“How fortuitous, then, that I am a woman of my own mind.” She touched his arm lightly, and he fought not to pull away from her. “Perhaps you might like to discuss this matter away from the rest of our guests?”
Maddie’s face appeared in his thoughts, leaving him hollow and thrumming all at once.
He gave a curt nod and allowed his sister to lead him into a small, empty drawing room.
It was just as well to distance himself from the party, as he’d only come because his sister had pleaded with him.
He wasn’t feeling the same level of merriment as the other guests and was determined to avoid it as much as he could.
Social gatherings had become exercises in endurance, each forced smile and polite conversation draining him of what little energy he managed to muster each day.
“It’s high time you returned to your life,” she said, closing the door behind them with a soft click. “I know things were difficult when . . .” his sister’s voice trailed off.
John’s jaw tightened at the remembrance of his closest friend.
He and Ryan had been inseparable since they were in leading strings.
They’d done everything in life together, with Ry even marrying Rosina, becoming his brother by law.
The sickness, and the quickness with which it took his once strong, virile friend, was more than he could face.
Seeing his formidable sister as broken as she was, it had been too much.
At times, it was still too much—the void Ryan had left seemed to grow larger rather than smaller with time.
“So your aim is to make them more difficult?” John snapped, immediately regretting his harsh tone. It wasn’t her fault that the simplest tasks—getting out of bed, engaging in conversation, feeling anything beyond a dull ache—required monumental effort most days.
Rosina huffed. “No. But it’s time you faced the past so you might move on with your future. I’m relieved you are back from the Continent and shall be a true part of our family again. And I know it’s hard to see me with James. But I’m happy, Brother.”
“I would never wish unhappiness or discontent upon you, Sister. Duke or not, if he ever makes you unhappy, he will have me to contend with.”
Rosina rolled her eyes, but a smile softened her lips. “You always were overprotective. But this isn’t about me, John. I am content and adore my life with James and our babes. This is about you and Maddie.”
“There is no me and Maddie,” he growled, turning away to stare at the darkened window. His reflection stared back at him, haunted and hollow-eyed, a stranger wearing his face. “And there isn’t going to be.”
“And whose fault is that?” His sister’s voice held no accusation, just a quiet certainty that scraped against his raw nerves.
John’s fingers curled into fists at his sides, the familiar surge of self-loathing rising within him. “You know very well why I left.”
“I understand better than anyone. I was a shell of myself for a very long time. But if I can find happiness . . . and love, again, so can you.”
“It isn’t the same,” John muttered, his voice low and rough with emotion. The pain he caused could never be undone. The darkness that had consumed him might return at any moment, waiting just beneath the surface for the opportunity to drag him under once more.
“It never is,” Rosina replied softly. “I know how deeply you feel things. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t possible.” She stepped closer, so she was just behind him. “I invited her because it’s been long enough, John. For both of you.”
He whirled to face her, his eyes flashing. “You had no right—”
“I had every right as someone who loves you.” Rosina’s chin lifted in that familiar stubborn tilt that reminded him they shared the same blood. “It’s been almost five years, John. Five years of missing my brother after I had already lost Ry. And now that you are back, you still aren’t yourself.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw as he fought to control the surge of conflicting emotions.
The accusation stung because it was true—he was not the man he once was.
That version of himself seemed as distant and unreachable as the stars.
“And what did you expect would happen? That we would see each other and I could just apologize and she’d fall into my arms? That we’d live happily ever after?”
The duchess crossed her arms over her chest, studying him with that unnervingly perceptive gaze. “I expected you to find closure,” she said finally. “To stop torturing yourself with what might have been and discover what still could be. To let others in.”
“And if I don’t want that?” John asked, knowing it was the worst kind of lie, even as the words left his mouth.
“Then you will spend the rest of your days alone and miserable,” Rosina replied without hesitation.
She moved toward the door, pausing with her hand on the pull.
“But I suspect you aren’t being honest with yourself.
Figure yourself out, Brother. Before it’s too late.
And know that I shall always be here to help. ”
With that, she left him with nothing but his thoughts and the echoing crackle of a dying fire in the hearth. The symbolism might have been amusing if he wasn’t already at the brink of what he could handle. The room suddenly felt too small, the walls closing in on him as his breath quickened.
Having decided that he had little desire to feign interest in polite conversation, he slipped out of the room and went straight to his chamber. He found his valet there and immediately sent him away, needing to be alone with the storm brewing inside his mind.