Chapter 40
Forty
The moment Theo stepped into the breakfast room, April felt it.
His gaze swept over the table, pausing not on her or Lady Eugenia but locking on Gregory Roth with a force that felt like a blade.
April’s teacup faltered in her hand. The silence that followed his entrance was brief but charged, and though his expression evened, the tension in his shoulders did not ease.
Something had changed.
He greeted them all with the decorum expected of a duke, his voice measured. “Cousin, welcome. You are up early.”
Gregory smiled, ever smooth. “The country air has worked its charms. I find I am sleeping better here than I have in years.”
Theo’s lips curved faintly. “Then you must allow me to show you the new geldings that arrived yesterday. They are housed in the stables.”
Gregory dabbed at his mouth with a napkin and rose. “I’d like that.”
April could barely hear them over the rush of dread rising in her chest. Theo’s face was a mask, but it was one she had come to know.
The quiet fury. The restraint that only appeared when something inside him threatened to break.
His smile did not touch his eyes, and the way he stood—too still, too precise—told her more than words ever could.
As Gregory reached for his coat, Theo held the door open for him. April rose with them, but Theo turned toward her, his hand briefly brushing her arm in what should have been a comfort—but was too brief. Too distant.
She waited until the door closed then followed swiftly, her slippers near silent against the floor.
She caught up to him in the hallway just outside the study, heart pounding. “Theo.”
He stopped, turned. He did not look at her.
“What is it?” she asked. “Something is wrong.”
He opened the study door and stepped inside. She followed him, closing the door behind them.
“April, you must remain here.”
“No. I will not sit and sip tea while you—what? Show him horses? There’s more to this, Theo. I feel it.”
He turned away, crossing to the hearth. He rested a hand on the mantle, his back rigid. “April, you must trust me.”
“I do trust you,” she said softly. “Which is why I want to stand beside you.”
He looked at her then, and the pain behind his eyes startled her. It was raw, bare. A grief she couldn’t yet name.
“I wish to come,” she pleaded again. “I want to see the geldings. I won’t hover, I promise.”
He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “No.”
“Why? You cannot keep me out simply because you are upset.”
“You do not understand.”
“Then explain it to me.”
His voice, when it came, was barely controlled. “April—stay here. That is all I ask.”
She stepped closer, refusing to be dismissed. “Why are you treating me like this?”
His eyes flickered—panic, guilt, rage. She knew all of them too well now. He was unraveling, and she could not reach him.
“I will not obey you blindly, not without reason,” she said, her voice quiet but firm. “I deserve more than silence.”
He stared at her, unmoving. Then, without warning, he said the words that made the world go still.
“Must you argue every time? Must you always need more than I can give? You were supposed to be a wife of convenience. That is all. And frankly, I am finished indulging you.”
April felt the breath leave her body.
She stood very still.
A wife of convenience.
Finished indulging.
Her vision blurred though no tears fell. Her fingers curled tightly against the skirts of her morning dress.
“You cannot mean that.”
He turned away. “Go back to the breakfast room, April.”
She took a trembling step forward. “Look at me. And say it again.”
He did not turn.
Something broke.
“Is that truly what you think of me?”
Silence.
She waited, every second stretching like a blade drawn slow.
When he said nothing—no denial, no apology, no explanation—she turned without a word and walked away, each step heavier than the last. She could barely hear the birds outside. Could barely see the floor beneath her feet.
In her mind, his voice repeated like a cruel echo.
I am finished indulging you.
She reached the stairs and steadied herself against the railing.
I gave him everything. Every part of myself. And he thinks I am nothing more than convenience.
Her eyes burned now, but still, no tears came. She would not cry.
Theo stood in the study long after the sound of April’s retreating steps faded.
He winced, running a hand down his jaw, the silence echoing like a distant thunderclap. Her face—stricken, disbelieving—burned itself into his mind with cruel clarity.
God, what have I done to you?
The look in her eyes would haunt him. But better that than the alternative. Better she hate him than be placed in harm’s way. It had to be done. That didn’t mean it hadn’t splintered something inside him.
He turned toward the writing desk and pulled open a drawer with more force than necessary. Parchment. Ink. A pen that trembled slightly in his grasp. He scrawled the words quickly, his breathing shallow.
Find Elderman and follow my carriage. Should anything happen to me before then, Gregory Roth is guilty of murder.
He folded the note with care, and from the bottom drawer of his desk he drew out the pistol. Cold. Familiar. He checked the chamber with precise fingers and slid it into the interior pocket of his coat.
As he stepped into the hallway, pale morning light cut across the polished floors in fractured beams. The house, usually so full of warmth when April was near, felt hollow. Still. His boots echoed as he crossed the marble expanse of the foyer.
Redmond stood waiting. Gregory was already there, posture lazy, hand resting on his cane, gaze casually drifting toward the family portraits as though admiring the symmetry.
Theo stopped before his butler. “Redmond.”
“Your Grace.”
He handed him the note. Redmond paused a moment, reading the seriousness in his master’s eyes. “Understood, Your Grace.”
Gregory turned, a smile playing across his lips. “A bit dramatic this morning, aren’t we?”
Theo ignored him. “Is the carriage ready?”
“It is, Your Grace,” Redmond replied.
Gregory lifted a brow. “A carriage? I was prepared for a ride. Nothing like a good gallop to clear the mind.”
“It’s farther than you’d expect,” Theo said. “We’ll make better time this way.”
And you’ll be trapped should you try anything.
Gregory shrugged, amused. “Always the planner.”
They stepped outside, and Theo climbed in first then Gregory, who reclined across from him with exaggerated ease.
As the carriage began to move, silence settled thick between them. Gregory broke it with a small chuckle. He reached into his coat and produced a pistol, placing it across his lap.
“I suppose we can drop the charade now, Cousin,” he said.
Theo stared blankly at him.
“You’re not surprised,” Gregory went on, as if confirming something to himself. “You’ve always suspected, haven’t you?”
Theo did not speak. I never suspected though I wish I had.
Gregory leaned forward slightly, tapping the weapon on his knee. “You were never meant to live, Cousin. You were supposed to die with the rest of them. But no matter. We’ve come full circle at last.”
Theo’s jaw worked, but still he kept silent. Every muscle in his body had drawn taut.
“That little scene at breakfast,” Gregory mused, “I must give you great merit. The way you looked as though you were truly pleased to see me. Very noble.”
Theo felt his own pistol press against his ribs beneath the fabric of his coat.
Would I reach for it in time? Would I fire first? No. Not yet.
“You think me a monster,” Gregory said, “but truly, I’ve done you a favor. All those years you spent brooding over graves and staring into the abyss—what kind of life was that? Now at least, you can go to your grave knowing the truth.”
Theo’s voice came low and hard. “You speak of mercy, but you’ve never known the word.”
Gregory’s smile widened. “And you’ve only just begun to learn it. A pity, Cousin. Too late.”
The trees outside thickened, branches reaching like arms through the haze. The road narrowed. Theo’s breath came slow, even. They were driving toward his hunting cabin as he had instructed, but he was not sure whether they would arrive.
April is safe. I have done what I must, but I will not die with these truths buried.
He flexed his fingers once, letting his hand drift up his thigh so it was positioned to reach his pistol quickly.
If this is the end, let it be on my terms. Not his.
“Where are we going truly?” Gregory asked.
“To a place where you will tell me why you killed my parents.”
“I can tell you now.” Gregory laughed. “No need to go far.”
Theo sat back, but his heart pounded beneath his ribcage.