Chapter 16 #2
“Cruel.”
The whispers rippled through the crowd, but they rang like bells in his ears.
Fine. If they want a beast, a beast they shall have.
“Everybody out!” Laurence roared.
Edith pulled back as if burned. “Laurence?”
“Now!” he shouted.
The townhouse seemed to rattle with the volume of his voice.
The guests did not need to be told a second time. They scattered, picking up their children and belongings before hurrying to the closest exit.
They still run from me like birds.
“Your Grace,” James said. “You need to listen to Her Grace and take a deep breath. You are not yourself right now—”
“I’m going to my study,” Laurence snarled.
“What?” Edith sputtered.
“Now, be reasonable. I need you to—”
“I am being reasonable!” Laurence shouted. “I will see no one until I’m ready.”
He stormed off toward the staircase that led to his study. Its timber frame shook as he took two steps at a time. He could hear James talking to Edith, comforting her. That was soon followed by Tilly’s shaky voice and sobs.
I hate that sound.
The study was cold and dark, exactly how he had left it.
He slammed the door shut behind him, nearly shattering the wooden frame.
His arms swept across his desk, sending ledgers, letters, and papers flying in all directions.
He screamed in anger and frustration, needing to purge the volatile feelings inside of him.
Not once in his life had he been so utterly humiliated.
Now, not only did Edith and Tilly know about his father’s actions, but the rest of the ton did too.
He’d be the sole subject of gossip for weeks.
Additionally, Lord Hargrove would likely sport his broken nose and tell some twisted version of the events.
One that made him the victim of a beastly duke.
After a few moments, Laurence collected himself and looked around.
His study was a mess. It would take several maids to clean it.
He ran a hand through his hair. He needed a way to fix this. Not just the situation with Lord Hargrove. Tilly’s sobs and Edith’s stricken, anxious face wouldn’t leave his mind.
Slumping down in the chair at his desk, he willed his heart to slow down. He needed to breathe, but his lungs felt like they were on fire. His hands gripped his hair, and he could feel the roots trying to disconnect from his scalp.
He had put them both in danger. If he had lost his temper any further, he could have hurt them. Not intentionally, never intentionally, but if he lost control…
The idea made him nauseous.
He was a duke. He was supposed to be in control of himself. If he wasn’t, he was a danger to his duchy and the people around him.
“You are a disgrace to the duchy.” His father’s voice rattled around in his mind. “You are weak. Weak men are forgotten. You are unworthy of everything I have built.”
Laurence gripped his hair tighter, grinding his teeth so hard they almost cracked.
“Enough,” he whispered. His eyes brimmed with tears he refused to shed. His chest was so tight it burned.
After several minutes, he became aware of the chill in the room. Clouds had formed over the moon, blocking the light. He swallowed hard.
Tilly and Edith would be looking for him soon. If he didn’t calm himself, he would infect them with his darkness.
He would never forgive himself if he did that to them.
The chill began to seep into his skin, but it was a welcome reprieve from his burning rage and fear.
He didn’t hear the first quiet knock at his door. When it started to open, though, he heard the creak of its hinges. He turned with a sharp breath, ready to rebuke the intruder.
Tilly.
“Your Grace, are you a—”
“Leave me be, Tilly,” Laurence muttered, rubbing a hand down his face.
The little girl hesitated, glanced around the room, then looked back at him. “Your study is a mess…”
“I know,” Laurence replied.
“I could help you clean it.”
“No.”
“Or I could help—”
“Tilly, please go,” he whispered.
She hesitated and looked behind her into the hallway, but didn’t leave. “You’re really upset.”
“Tilly—”
“Is it because of the mean things Lord Hargrove said?”
“This isn’t the time,” he insisted, standing up.
“Please don’t blame yourself, Your Grace. Lord Hargrove was being cruel. Nobody believes that you’re in the wrong for hitting him like that,” she said, stepping closer to him.
Laurence turned away from her, looking for the flint and steel. He hoped that if he ignored her, she would leave.
“I know what he said was incredibly rude; he was in the wrong,” Tilly stated with conviction.
Laurence crouched down and lit the fire. It crackled to life, the heat hauntingly familiar to his scarred skin.
“Your Grace,” Tilly whispered, before moving deeper into the study. “Are you—”
“Leave,” he growled.
She flinched and took a deep breath. “But you’re angry. I don’t want you to be alone when—”
She reached out to him, and he grabbed her wrist.
“Are you deaf?” he hissed.
“Wh—”
“I said, get out! Multiple times!” he snapped.
Tears filled Tilly’s eyes. “Your Grace, let go, please,” she whispered.
“Now you want to leave?!” he barked.
“That’s not—”
“You are so determined to stick your nose into my business and disturb my peace!” he shouted, finally letting go of her wrist.
She stumbled back and landed on her backside.
“I just wanted to make sure you were all right,” she whispered, her voice shaking.
“I am fine,” he growled. “I do not need you.”
Tilly’s chest rose and fell rapidly, and little tears rolled down her cheeks.
Laurence looked away, the firelight reflecting in his eyes. “It’s safer if you leave me alone.”
For a second, he wasn’t sure how she would react. Then, he heard her scramble up and run out of the room. He continued looking at the fire, letting it warm him. And yet his heart felt cold.
The sound of Tilly’s chamber door slamming shut echoed down the hall.
He hoped this would be enough to protect her.