Chapter 18
Eighteen
April didn’t breathe. Couldn’t.
The look in his eyes chilled her to the bone. Not fury alone. Something deeper—colder. As if the man she’d come to accept was not a man at all but a tempest forged of pain and vengeance.
The dim torchlight threw shadows across his face, sharpening the hard lines of his cheekbones, the tension around his mouth. His hands—those same hands that once held a book of poetry—were bruised and streaked with dried blood.
Her feet moved before she was aware of them, retreating one slow step at a time.
“April—”
His voice cracked the air. She startled.
Theo stepped forward, too fast. The blood on his knuckles had begun to dry, but the violence still clung to him like smoke. “Wait. Please.”
She took another step back, her skirts brushing the cold stone wall.
“What are you doing here?” he asked. Too sharp. Too raw. The heat of what he had just been doing still clung to his voice.
She flinched.
The moment struck him—his face changed. The fury fell away, replaced by something like regret. His shoulders slackened, his hands unclenched.
“I didn’t mean it like that. I just—April, you shouldn’t have seen—”
“What exactly did I see?” she cut in, her voice shaking. “A man tied up. Bleeding. And you… you hitting him. Over and over.”
“It’s not what you think.”
She let out a short, incredulous laugh. “Then enlighten me. Because what I saw was—was monstrous.”
His eyes narrowed but not in anger. In frustration. “You don’t understand.”
“Then help me. Help me understand, Theo. Who was that man? Why was he there? Why were you—?”
He stepped forward again, and she moved back.
“It’s complicated. I’m handling it.”
“That’s not an answer.”
He looked away for a moment, jaw tight, before muttering, “He’s dangerous. He’s part of something. Something that took everything from me.”
She froze.
“What do you mean, ‘took everything’?”
“I’m dealing with it. That’s all you need to know.”
Her stomach dropped. That was all she needed to know?
Her voice rose, soft but edged with despair. “And what happens when you’re finished dealing with him? When you’ve bled out all your rage—then what?”
His jaw clenched tighter. “Then I’ll have justice.”
April stared at him. The man before her looked nothing like the one she’d sat beside at tea. The man who smiled—not quite—and passed her quiet kindness with sugarless tea.
This was someone else. And yet… it was still him. Still Theo. And that was what terrified her.
Her hands trembled. She pressed them to her sides, fingers curling into the fabric of her dress. Tears clawed at her throat.
“And what about me?” she asked, her voice raw. “If this is who you are underneath the silence and the control, what happens to me?”
He said nothing.
The silence roared between them.
She waited. One heartbeat. Two.
And then she stepped back once more. Her chin lifted.
“There will be no wedding.”
Theo didn’t move.
April turned, skirts whispering around her ankles, and walked away.
Her steps didn’t falter—not until she reached the stairs. And then she ran. Not because she feared he would chase her. No—deep down, she knew he would not.
He would respect her choice and let her go.
April burst into the drawing room, her breathing raspy and shallow. Her lungs ached, and she didn’t feel quite steady on her feet. “Miss Evans—we are leaving. At once.”
The maid looked up, startled by her tone. “My Lady? Has something—”
April strode across the room, snatching up her bonnet and reticule from the settee with shaking fingers. “Please. I do not wish to be questioned. We must go. Now.”
Miss Evans rose, looking confused but obedient. They swept from the house and into the waiting carriage with haste and no further words.
Inside, the silence was absolute. Miss Evans cast furtive glances toward her mistress, but April kept her face to the window, her hands clutched in her lap.
Her mind replayed it again and again: the dim light, the unrelenting sound of Theo’s voice. The man’s bruised face. The fury carved into every line of the Duke’s figure.
What had she walked into? She had gone to accept his proposal, feeling confident that her future would be as she would like, yet in a moment, everything shattered.
She left feeling as though she had glimpsed something terrible—something that now lived inside her, pressing against her ribs.
When the carriage reached the Wildmoore House, she lingered in the carriage, her limbs stiff. Taking several deep breaths, she regained a semblance of calm and climbed down.
Voices from the drawing room reached her as she stepped into the foyer. One deep and familiar one struck her.
“Has August returned?” she asked.
“His Lordship arrived shortly after you departed, My Lady,” the butler said behind her, and she realized she’d voiced the question without intending to.
Of all the days and hours, why now? When there would be no wedding. April swallowed and moved toward the drawing room.
“April, dearest! You’re just in time. August is home, and we’ve had the most thrilling news!” Her mother rushed forward as soon as she walked into the drawing room and took her hands.
“What news?” April whispered, looking up at her brother, who stood by the fireplace mantle.
“Your engagement, of course, to the Duke of Stone. I’ve already written to Lady Allenham and Mrs. Steadman.”
Heavens, she has told the world already! April felt her limbs slacken. “Engagement?”
“Yes! August told me that the two of you are engaged. Oh, April! One of my spring flowers engaged in her very first season! What splendid news!”
“No,” April said. Her voice came out too sharp and too fast. “There is no engagement. You must not say another word of it to anyone.”
The room stilled. Even the fire in the grate seemed to dim. Dorothy’s smile vanished as though slapped from her face. “What nonsense is this?”
“It is the truth.”
“You cannot mean to walk away from such a match. The entire season has watched you. The papers—”
“Let them watch.”
Her mother’s face paled with fury. “April Vestiere, you will ruin yourself. And worse—you will ruin your sisters. June has only just begun receiving callers. Do you mean to cast scandal on her name before she’s even had a chance to choose?”
June’s voice cut through the din, and she addressed April. “Do not think of me. Think of yourself.”
“June!” Dorothy’s face was turning red. “How dare you say such a thing? Have you no care for our family’s honor and place in society? A young lady does not walk away from an offer from a Duke!”
“Mama,” May interjected, trying to temper the gathering storm. “let’s allow April a moment to explain—”
“Explain? What explanation could possibly suffice? We were on the cusp of the most advantageous match of the year, and she—”
“Enough, please,” April said.
She pressed a hand to her temple, willing the ache in her head to lessen. The room spun with words, none of which felt real.
“Come with me,” August’s voice broke through as he took her arm and led her out of the room.
They entered the library, and he closed the door softly behind them.
April walked slowly to a chaise by the window and lowered herself onto it.
For a long moment, neither spoke. Then she regarded her brother.
He looked older and tired. There were lines at the corners of his eyes that hadn’t been there last autumn.
“You didn’t accept him, then?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“Mother was already assigning rooms at the country house for the wedding guests.”
April exhaled shakily. “I was going to accept. I intended to.” August waited for her to continue. “But I saw something in his home. In the lower levels to be exact. There was a man there, bound and battered. Theodore was… questioning him. It was not civilized. It was not—”
April shut her eyes, willing her mind to forget the image. Then she took a deep breath. “He did not look like the man I thought he was.”
August’s features shifted. Something tightened behind his eyes. “Did he know you saw him?”
“Yes. He tried to explain. He said little. Too little. Or too much. I cannot recall.”
August turned to the window, his dark brows furrowed. “I do not wish to betray his confidence, April,” he said at length. “But I will say this: there are things in his past that you are not aware of. Things that would have crushed a weaker man.”
April searched her brother’s face, seeking more answers in his words and expression, wishing he had the liberty to tell her more.
“If he was angry, if he acted with violence, I assure you that it is not because he enjoys cruelty. It is likely the man deserves that treatment from Theo.”
“That may be true,” she whispered, “but I cannot forget what I saw.”
August looked intently at her. “Then perhaps you shouldn’t, but neither should you judge the whole of a man by his worst hour.”
She closed her eyes.
There, in the dark behind her lids, was the flicker of light and the shape of a man she did not know. And yet, her heart ached for him all the same.