Chapter 3 #2
She slunk from her father’s office moments later, trying to reckon with what had just happened.
If there was any chance of changing his mind.
No, he will not change his mind, she admitted sullenly.
The only way is if he has no choice but to change it.
But who could force such a thing? No one in this world is capable of…
Clara stopped short. Her eyes widened as the realization struck her. Her heart swelled, and hope broke through the gloom. An idea had come to her suddenly. A most outrageous and daring one, beset by danger and likely to make things even worse.
Worse… no, nothing could be worse. And that alone was why she knew that she had no choice but to try. She was not such a weakling as people thought. There was some fight in her still. Fight she would need if she was to do this, if she was to stand a chance.
I have lost my mind. Better that than losing my life…
Alaric Wolfe, the Duke of Ravencourt, stormed through his castle as his anger brewed to levels of such rage that he truly wondered if the walls about him might suddenly collapse.
Each step taken seemed to shake the ground, and the sound of thunder rolling in the distance could only have been caused by his wrath.
I was a fool to have left here. A fool to have shown my face in public after all this time! What good could it have done! Perhaps I deserve what has happened, for misery and torment suit me like a well-tailored suit.
In Alaric’s hand was a crumpled letter that had been delivered an hour earlier.
It was written to him by a friend, the Duke of Eastmoor, warning of the rumors that had begun to circulate about the ton.
They were concerned about his actions at the Ashworth Ball, why Lord Ayles had been seen fleeing from him, and what his intent had been concerning the Lady Tremayne.
Alaric was used to rumors being spoken about him.
That was nothing new. What frustrated him was that he had worked so hard to be forgotten and ignored by the ton these past few years, actions that were now for nothing!
He had opened himself to the scathing judgment of his peers, and he knew that these rumors would just be the beginning.
And so, he stormed through his empty manor in a temper. There were but a handful of staff who remained in his employ, and they hid from him as was the smart decision.
They fear me. Which they are right to do. The reasons are wrong, but the result is correct.
It was because the staff hid that when Alaric heard someone hammering on the front door of his manor, nobody moved to answer.
He was walking through the foyer when he heard it, coming to a stop and glowering, for he was certain it must be a nosy peer come to snoop out the truth.
For years, he had locked himself away, avoiding visitors and guests because they knew they were not welcome.
And now, a single night out and all his hard work had been dashed to pieces.
The hammering continued, and Alaric roared with anger as he stormed across the foyer and threw the door open.
His intent was to scare whoever had come, a warning for others not to do the same.
But as the doorway swung open, and when he saw who was standing on the other side, Alaric found himself struck speechless.
“Oh, good, you are home.”
It was Lady Tremayne. Perhaps the last person he had expected to see.
She was wearing a thick cloak pulled over her head, shivering from the cool winds of the storm, and her white face stood out from the dark fabric of the cloak.
Her eyes were wide and dark—with fear, no doubt, terrified by where she had found herself. But it was undoubtedly her.
“You!” Alaric gasped. “What are you…” He looked outside, checking that she was alone. “What are you doing here!”
“I am not sure. I…” She grimaced. “I had no other choice.”
If Alaric didn’t know any better, he might have said he was dreaming.
He had taken an assessment of Lady Tremayne at the ball, deciding quickly that she was a typical lady of the ton, not worth his time, and worth even less of his attention.
Oh, no doubt there was an edge to her, and he had been impressed that she’d braved his presence where nobody else would dare. Still, a wallflower by any measure.
As to why he had chosen to save her on the balcony? That, Alaric could not say. It was his guilt, he supposed, that he had turned her away so quickly. She had come to him for help, and he had dismissed her—not because he thought her foolish, but because he was too cowardly to help.
She was wrong about me, for I am no savior. I have proved that well enough already… but lingering memories of his past mistakes forced his hand, and he felt a desire to prove them wrong. Which he had done, only for the consequences to do as they so often did: wreak havoc and destroy.
“Any choice but coming to see me was a better choice,” he said.
She shook her head. “You would not say that if…” She trailed off with uncertainty. Then she looked past him, fear present in her eyes, but mixed with a sense of determination that told him she would not go easily. “Might I… may I come in?”
“Surely, you are not serious?”
“I wish I were not. But as I said, I have no choice.”
“You cannot be seen here,” he warned her, moving to block the door further. “Do you have any idea the trouble your actions have caused me?”
“My actions? I did nothing.”
“Nor did I,” he said. “Yet the result is the same. You need to go. Now!” he hissed, praying that he might scare her away.
For most, such a demand coming from Alaric would work without hesitation.
He had spent years developing a reputation that made him the most feared duke in London.
The things people said about him were not true.
Not by half. But he stoked those rumors nonetheless, for they achieved exactly what he wished. To be left alone.
Yet she did not budge. Shaking from fear.
Her big, brown eyes looked at him helplessly.
She was as desperate as she was scared, the same as she had been the other night when she had sat beside him.
As was the case then, she needed saving.
But Alaric was not the man to do it. I can’t be that man! Never again.
“Please…” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I have nowhere else to go. Nobody else to…” She sniffed. “You are my only hope.”
It was that word which touched him the hardest of all.
Hope. He found himself faltering as memories of another began to batter at his defenses.
The last time someone had dared to rely on him for protection, and how disastrously he had failed them.
It had him feeling sick with despair, shame, and guilt.
“I…” He grimaced as the guilt battered him further. “What do you want?”
“You saved me once,” she said. “And I ask that you do it again.”
“I told you, I am no savior.”
“My father means to send me to a convent,” she continued. “The rumors about us…” She winced. “He is convinced they will ruin my name and his if I am not hidden away.”
“Which is why I cannot help you…” His stomach continued to twist. “I cannot help anyone. Better that you leave here and forget you ever saw me.”
“But you can help me,” she pressed. “I have been thinking about it and…” She tried for a smile; it was as desperate as it was forced. “And these rumors only exist because the ton does not know what to make of what happened between us.”
“There is no us.”
“But there can be,” she insisted. “If you and I were to… to…” Her body was still shaking, but he could see the strength in her.
To have come here alone had taken more courage than he believed she was capable of.
Certainly more than he possessed. “If we were to wed, it would dismiss the rumors and unwarranted and –”
“You are not serious!” Alaric laughed in surprise. A harsh sound, and unfamiliar—how long had it been since he laughed, even in derision?
“I do not!” Her eyes widened, and she looked at him. “I am not asking you to fall in love with me. I am not asking you to care. But if we marry, it will save us both. It will smother the rumors, the scandal, and within a few months, we will be forgotten. It will be as if none of this happened.”
“And then what?”
“I have been thinking about that too,” she said. “Which is why I have a proposal. Marry me. Allow me to live with you for one year, long enough so that people forget. And then, once the year is over, I will leave.”
“And go where?”
She shrugged. “Anywhere. Away from here. That way, you will have your peace, and I will have…” A smile now, soft and hopeful. “I will have my freedom.”
Alaric stared in bewilderment at the young lady. Her words… he could not believe what he was hearing! It was absurd! It was insane! It was enough that he should have thrown her on a horse and sent her back to her father at once! And he very nearly did too.
Only then did he look at her again. More memories of the past flood him. His failures. Mistakes made that led him down this path. Could this redeem him? Did he owe it, not to himself, but to the woman who had suffered because of his weakness?
No… this is not about her. It is about me, a way out that I do not deserve.
“You would confine yourself to a loveless marriage?” he asked her. “How is that better than what Lord Ayles offered you?”
She scoffed. “With you, at least, I know what I stand to gain.”
“No,” he said, fixing her with a final glare; his last-ditch effort to scare her away. Thunder rumbled behind her. Darkness spread from him, wrapping itself around her. A cool breeze, and she shuddered. Still, she did not run. “You have no idea.”
“Please,” she said again, her expression soft and pleading.
“You and I both need this. Marry me, and as quickly as you do, forget that I am here. I will not trouble you. I will not impose. You might not think yourself to be a savior, but…” She laughed bitterly. “To me, that is what you have become.”
A savior… The word hung between them. Alaric tried to dismiss it. He wanted nothing to do with it! But it refused to leave him, and for the first time in years, he felt something he had thought lost to him. He felt hope.
But he refused to admit as much. Not yet. He did not deserve such things.
Rather, he focused on what he needed. That this marriage was sure to be a most treacherous endeavor that they would both regret.
That it would only serve to remind him how unlovable he was, how deserving he was of being alone, how utterly wretched he had become in his isolation, so that by the time the year was over, she would be begging to leave.
I deserve nothing less than to be hated and despised.
“It will not be enjoyable for you,” he said.
“I know that.”
“And I will not change anything about how I have come to live.”
“I do not expect it.”
“And if I say yes, you are to do as I say when I say it. No arguments. No retorts. You live under my roof, and it will stay that way.” He looked at her with a snarl so she would know he meant every word.
“Is that…” A smile broke her solemn expression. “Is that a yes?”
Was he a fool for this? Was he opening himself up to more heartache and misery?
He looked Lady Tremayne over, focusing now on her soft skin, her kind eyes, and her full lips, which held that smile of hope as if she truly believed he was a savior.
That had his stomach feeling rotten so that he might be sick.
That she would think such a thing of him…
She was pure and beautiful. Too much for this world and what he offered her. But in that, he would feel shame and guilt for agreeing to allow this, and that was what he needed as a reminder of who he truly was.
“Fine,” he said. “I will marry you.”
“You will?”
“I will,” he said. “But it will be just as I – oh!”
“Thank you!” Lady Tremayne threw herself at him, her arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him into a hug.
This had the effect of jolting him from his stupor, her sweet scent filling his nostrils, the feel of her bare arms on the back of his neck making his skin erupt in prickles and his heart race as it had not done in longer than he could remember.
His hands found her waist as if on instinct. He held her for a fraction of a second. His pulse quickened, and for an instant, he ached to dip his head and touch his lips to hers. He growled and pushed her away, not daring to let such temptation seize him.
“I am sorry,” she said quickly. “I did not mean –”
“Go.” He turned from her as if in shame, his heart still racing with desire which he tried to smother. “I will send for you once the arrangements have been made.”
“And how long will that be?”
He dared to look at her again, wincing at her beauty as her sweet smell still filled his lungs. “Two weeks at most. But nobody is to know of this until it is finalized. Is that understood?”
“Thank you,” she said again, her smile honest and pure. She looked at him in a way that Alaric did not understand at first, for it had been so long since he had seen it. “Truly, you have no idea how you have saved me.”
It was then that Alaric knew he had made a huge mistake. One which he was certain he would be paying for long before this year was through. He was no savior. He did not deserve redemption. And he certainly did not wish to be seen as a hero.
And as to that dim patter of hope which echoed softly deep within? Alaric strangled it the best he could. Hope could kill like any knife. A truth he knew better than most.