Chapter 39 Derek
Derek
Something was wrong with him.
What in the bloody fuck was wrong with him?
“Stop pacing, Derek. You’re making me nervous. And that’s truly a feat,” Dorothea murmured.
Derek sat. Dropped into the armchair closest to him and let his elbows fall to his knees. It was done. The letter posted, probably already in Livy’s hand. Voucher to Almack’s and all.
Fuck.
His head landed in his hands, and he stared at the carpet of the Ironcrest House library.
Dorothea had casually mentioned over breakfast that morning she wanted to extend a voucher to Miss Forester.
It was everything Livy had hoped for—her ultimate goal achieved.
Because then her Mr. Thorton would see what an advantageous match she’d be.
Derek’s lips curled back. Idiotic dandy prat.
It had been on the tip of Derek’s tongue to say a big “Abso-fucking-lutley not”.
To make Dorothea promise she wouldn’t extend an invitation.
Why? If Livy didn’t get into Almack’s, there’d be less of a chance she impressed upon the idiot.
And more of a chance that Derek could spend more time in bed with her.
He needed more time with her.
His heart rattled in his chest. It was probably as shocked and discomfited by that thought as his brain was.
So, instead, he did the sensible thing and agreed it was a great idea, a bloody lovely idea. The fucking best. Miss Forester would be with her Mr. Thorton, and Derek could go back to his ribald ways. Back to normalcy. Where he was perfectly content and completely happy.
Mocking laughter filled the room. He glanced at Dorothea, but she was quietly sipping her tea. Just in his head then. Lovely. He was going insane.
Dorothea was looking at him, though. He didn’t like how scrutinizing it was. She was picking him apart. Assessing.
Bloody hell.
How had this happened?
It didn’t make any sense. It wasn’t as though there was anything special about Miss Forester. Urgh, there was that laughter again.
And on top of all of this…madness…he’d done something truly insane.
He’d offered to escort her. He banged his forehead against his palms. Could he be any more of an imbecile?
What was he going to do at Almack’s, of all places?
One didn’t sneak off for a tryst at Almack’s.
One looked for a bloody wife at Almack’s. Christ.
He’d just…escort her there and then leave. Yes. That was sensible. Unload her on Dorothea and make himself scarce. Go to his clubs. Nothing cowardly about that.
“Is this the part where you act a fool and attempt to drive away the woman who’s perfect for you?”
Derek’s brows slammed together, and he shot a glare at Dorothea. Why did the woman have to be so bloody perceptive? She saw everything, even things that couldn’t be seen. Like the thoughts in his head. It was extremely vexing.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
She snorted delicately before taking another sip of tea.
“Fine. You do know. But I haven’t made my decision yet. I’m still deliberating.”
She blinked at him. “You are…deliberating? If you will…push her away or accept you have feelings for her?”
He snapped his fingers and pointed at Dorothea. “Yes, that.”
Derek thought he might have heard her mutter, “Heaven help me.”
But the decision didn’t really even matter, did it?
Even if he decided he could perhaps admit he possibly had something that faintly resembled feelings, it wasn’t as though he could act on them.
Not unless Rafe returned from Ironcrest with miraculous news that he somehow could still fund the foundling home.
Derek and Rupert had found a few individuals willing to bestow funds toward the cause. They’d revisited investments and were able to scrounge up some extra income, some places to cut expenses. But it wasn’t enough. It was roughly fifteen thousand bloody pounds short.
They’d searched for another benefactor who would join them in equal measure, but it was rare to find someone willing to dole out the kind of financial support he, Rupert, and Rafe provided every year.
Once the new home was running, it would require multiple thousands of pounds per annum to support their foundlings.
And their staff—individuals who relied on the home for safety and security just as much as the children did.
So, he wasn’t just warring with himself and scared fucking shiteless. Even if he remembered where he’d placed his ballocks, he couldn’t have her. She couldn’t be his.
Mine.
He growled into his hands, his fingers sinking into his face and squeezing.
“Well, that is quite the unattractive picture. You look positively deranged.”
“I feel deranged,” he muttered.
“Is it the whores?”
Derek’s head snapped up at the same time his jaw dropped to the floor. “I beg your finest pardon?”
“Is it because you’ll miss your whores”—she waved her hand vaguely—“and all the cuckolding?”
All those dinners where he and Rafe attempted to shock Dorothea?
Derek thought their antics might have turned against them.
But even more shocking was—the answer to that question was an emphatic no.
Hell. He was in so much fucking trouble.
Thinking about another woman, about his usual wenches…
His stomach turned over, and he grimaced.
No. He made a vehement noise in the negative. Absolutely not. No other women.
“Well, that’s fascinating.” Dorothea cocked her head and studied him. “It’s not the monogamy.”
Derek’s head reared back. Monogamy. His eyes widened. That’s what that was, wasn’t it? No other women. That was monogamy. His pulse spiked.
Oh God, oh God, oh God.
Dorothea chuckled. He glared at her. This was not funny.
He was…in the middle of a crisis. Something very odd was happening in his chest. He probably needed a physician, not her amusement.
Did he have a fever? Perhaps he’d contracted the flux.
He pulled at his shirt, which had started to stick to his skin. Hell, he was overheating.
He was having enough trouble coming to terms with all of this. He hadn’t realized what it truly meant. Yes, the thought of Livy being his fed some deep primal part of him. But fucking hell. It meant marriage. Monogamy. Family… Children? His throat closed over.
“So, you are contemplating monogamy, a realization it appears you’re having right before my very eyes. What is the cause for the panic if you won’t miss your carousing?”
Derek’s gaze darted to the side. What if he finally admitted it—finally accepted it—only to find out she didn’t want him? He tried to swallow, but his past had too tight a grip on his throat. He wasn’t the person people chose. He was one night. Fleeting.
She’d had her one night. Now, it was time for her victory march—one that led away from Derek and directly to a different gentleman.
Was he really so foolish to think she’d choose him over five years of history with someone else?
Someone who wasn’t an arrogant bastard, who wasn’t crippled by his own mind? Who wasn’t broken?
And did it even matter? If she did choose Derek, it would still be temporary.
They all left eventually. What if she abandoned him and their children just as his mother had?
What if she cuckolded him? Oh God. Wouldn’t that just be a lovely perverse turn of events?
Why hullo there, Derek, enjoy a sip of what you’ve been serving.
“Breathe, Derek. You’re letting your mind get the best of you.”
Well, that was nothing new. His unsteady exhale filled the chamber.
He closed his eyes, willing himself to cling to reason.
Livy knew exactly how it felt to be abandoned by a parent.
She was just as much a victim of that as he was.
And she wouldn’t do that herself. She wouldn’t stray.
He knew her. He knew her. She was the type of woman who snuck out in the middle of the night just to ensure the rogue bent on seducing her was well.
Which was a daft thing to do. The brilliantly clever fool.
Perhaps she was daft enough to want him.
He groaned. His hands were sticky. Were his palms sweating?
Yes. Yes, they were. He wiped them on his breeches.
He met Dorothea’s gaze again, pleaded with her to understand without him having to say anything.
He couldn’t voice it. Voice how terrified he was of being hurt again.
Of being vulnerable. Of giving anyone—even Livy—that power over him.
Dorothea’s features sagged, and her eyes turned sad. “Oh, Roderick,” she said softly, knowingly. “It’s always a risk, dear.”
He swallowed hard. He wasn’t certain whether he was ready to take that risk.
“Yes, well. It doesn’t matter anyhow. I’ve got myself all out of sorts for no reason.
Now that Rafe can no longer fund the foundling home—and Rutledge and I have been thwarted in all our attempts to raise the necessary funds—it appears my only option is to accept Lord Wentworth’s offer if we want this to get underway with any expediency.
We need to break ground soon. The closer we get to winter, the more risk this gets delayed a year or more.
So, it won’t be Miss Forester I’m marrying. ”
Dorothea’s slim silver brows pinched. “What are you speaking of? Raffy is no longer funding the new home?”
Fucking Christ.
Dorothea’s gaze sharpened. She must have seen something in his face. Most likely all the guilt. “Roderick. Explain yourself.”
His eyes sank closed. Rafe was going to murder him. Rafe hadn’t wanted his grandmother to know about the financial troubles. At least not until he knew for certain it was something worth worrying over. “Well… You see…”
“Out with it, boy.”
Derek cleared his throat and tugged at his cravat. “Apparently, the fires at Ironcrest…the reason why he needed to travel there… There was extensive damage. He may have mentioned the word destitute?”
Dorothea’s jaw dropped open, and Derek winced. Yes. Rafe was going to murder him when he returned.
“But he doesn’t know for certain,” he hurried to add. “And he’d said, by a duke’s standards! So, it is not as though you’ll be paupers. And even so, you can always live with me.”
“I cannot believe this,” Dorothea said faintly. Her hand came to her chest. “And we just visited Bond Street! Why didn’t you say something? Dear heavens. Can we even afford that?”
“I’m sure you can.” Derek was sure of no such thing.
But even if they couldn’t, Derek could. “Rafe didn’t want you to worry.
He won’t know how bad it is until he investigates the damage and sorts through it with his steward.
But regardless, he can ill afford to part with twenty thousand pounds to build a foundling home any longer.
You have other income; investments I have advised Rafe on.
I’m sure that will keep you both comfortable while you weather this setback. ”
“I cannot believe this,” she murmured again.
Derek couldn’t either. The unthinkable had occurred: he’d found the woman worth risking his heart for. If he could just gather up the courage.
Yet he couldn’t have her.