Chapter 9
Nine
“Will you be joining Her Grace and Miss Olivia for supper, Your Grace?” Albert asked Ronan from the doorway.
“Of course not,” Ronan snapped. He hadn’t meant to do so, and he was not angry at Albert for asking the question. What angered him were his own feelings, that despite what he told himself, there was a small part of him that almost wanted to do so…
“And what of breakfast the following morning?” the elderly butler pressed.
Ronan was sitting behind the table in his office, pretending to work because he needed a means to distract himself from the day’s events. Head bowed, he looked up and snarled at Albert, figuring that was all the response that was required.
“Just so I know what to tell the kitchen staff,” Albert assured him, his smile friendly and knowing. “I thought it best to be thorough about these things.”
“I have explained the circumstance to you already, Albert,” Ronan growled. “And once ought to be enough.”
“I am afraid my mind is not what it once was, Your Grace. Perhaps another explanation, just to assure I don’t make any further mistakes.”
Ronan had known Albert since he was a boy, and it was perhaps the only relationship that Ronan coveted because it was the only one which had stood the test of time. The only one which proved that not all relationships were doomed to failure…
For that reason, Ronan could not begrudge the man for pushing the way he was doing.
Especially considering that for ten years, he had been happy to do as he was told.
He’d never suggested Ronan ought to leave the castle and re-join society as Ronan knew the old man wanted for him.
He only ever wanted what was best, and when he’d learned of the marriage, he had become excited and eager, never saying it outright, but clearly believing such a circumstance was necessary.
“Tell me, Albert, what might have my father have done in this same situation?”
“As I have told you a hundred times, you are not your father.”
“That is not an answer.”
The old man sighed. “Likely, he would not have consented to the marriage in the first place. He was not one who cared about what those thought of him, unless it was fear and subservience.”
“Still not an answer, Albert.”
“He would have done as you are doing.” Albert looked at Ronan flatly. “Likely, he would have made the situation unbearable for Her Grace so that she felt she had no choice but to move out.”
“There you have it then.”
“So…” Albert was still hesitating by the door. “You wish for me to ignore Her Grace’s requests? To make it clear to her that this is not her home—”
“Of course not,” Ronan barked and glared at the aged manservant.
Albert did not back down, raising a single eyebrow in question.
“This is Thalia’s home now, and I expect you to treat her and her daughter as is appropriate.
They are under my protection, Albert, and whatever happens to them is a reflection on me. ”
“As I said…” A slight smile took the butler’s face. “Not like your father at all.”
“You are also to ensure that I am not to be disturbed by them,” Ronan growled, feeling a need to divorce himself from the notion that he was better than his father.
Just because he wasn’t the same type of monster did not mean that same monster was not lurking beneath the surface.
“If they ask after me, refuse them. If they try and see me, stop them. Is that understood?”
Albert said nothing. He watched Ronan glower with a cool expression, a wisdom behind his eyes because he likely understood exactly what Ronan was trying to do.
“Answer me, Albert,” Ronan said darkly.
“It will be done, Your Grace.” A short bow was offered, and the butler slipped from the office.
Ronan sighed and bowed his head again, doing his best to focus on his work. It was old lease agreements that he was poring over: requests from his tenants to improve on their deeds, some even trying to end contracts where better ones were being offered.
It was his fault that all this was happening.
For years, Ronan had ignored his duties and shirked his responsibilities because he wanted nothing to do with the world and the people in it.
But such acts as that were now having a negative effect, a weakening of his reputation and the belief that he could be taken advantage of.
In that way, this marriage was good for him. It served as a reminder to the ton and its people that he was far from forgotten and still powerful in this world. That was, after all, why he’d attended the ball in the first place.
Yes… despite everything, perhaps some good will come from this marriage. The only good, as far as I can see.
Ronan was not the indomitable force he liked to pretend he was.
He was not without emotions, not a bulwark against the rising tide that might never break.
He presented a cold, detached front because it was the easier thing to do, but underneath it all, he struggled and felt confusion, pain, and fear like any man.
This marriage was one such example of that.
It was easy to tell himself that this marriage would be a simple thing, made so because Ronan planned on treating Thalia and her daughter as if they did not exist. The wedding was done, they were here now and that wasn’t going to change.
But if he was able to avoid them entirely, perhaps in time he could forget them… and they could forget him.
He knew this would not work how he needed it to. As large as this castle was, they were bound to run into one another. Their worlds had collided and he could not escape that no matter how hard he tried.
Do I even want to escape such a thing? Might there be a world where…
Ronan shook his head, refusing to go down that path. No good could come from growing close to Thalia or her daughter, and only pain would follow such measures as that.
A shame too, because there was a small part of him that didn’t hate Thalia like he might have wished.
In fact, as with the first time he saw her, Ronan was still intrigued.
She was confident and self-assured. She wasn’t weak-minded, nor did she seem the type to give in to expectation or social pressure.
She was her own woman, and he appreciated her for that.
What was more, that she wasn’t terrified of him as so many others were… again, Ronan was intrigued.
That she was beautiful too did not help. But it was a beauty that clashed horribly with his own hideous visage and tormented soul. A pairing that could never and should never and would never work.
Then there was her daughter. As Ronan considered the little girl, he felt a smile tugging at his lips which he forced back. Again, that she was not scared of him was a sensation he didn’t even realize he needed or wanted. That she was curious, excited, and that she wanted to get to know him.
No… better that she not. Better for her. Better for me. Better that I do as I have promised and pretend they don’t exist.
Ronan committed himself to this mode of operation for the following hour, his eyes starting to bleed and his head throbbing from the pain of reading through documents that bored him beyond measure.
And, as he worked, the natural silence found in his empty castle was broken by voices in the distance. Laughter…
His head snapped up as he listened to it. It was soft, beaten back by the winds which slashed against the castle’s walls, but it was there. Laughter heard in his home, perhaps for the first time in ten years.
Despite himself, he rose from behind his desk and left his office, following the laughter through the halls, down the stairs, and across the foyer in the direction of the dining room. The laughter grew with each step taken, life infused through his home and seeming to carry him.
He came to a pause when he reached the edges of the dining room, being sure to stay hidden in shadow so as not to be seen.
It was as he guessed. Thalia and Olivia dining together, chatting and laughing and enjoying each other’s company in their new home.
Olivia was standing on the chair, her blue eyes the size of dinner plates as she reached for various plates of food, crying out excitedly because this was unlike anything she had ever seen before.
And Thalia, pretending to scold her, laughing all the while, love seen in her eyes as she looked upon the girl that was not her daughter, but whom she treated as one anyway.
As he watched them, Ronan felt a stabbing pain in his stomach unlike anything he’d felt before. It felt almost like loneliness… a yearning to join them in ways that were once anathema to him.
His wife and her daughter were a family of two, and he knew to look at them that would never change. But if he was to join them, might they accept him? Would they even want such a thing?
He hesitated in the shadows, very nearly walking into the dining room to join his wife and her daughter. He wanted to, although he refused to admit why. A lifetime spent avoiding companionship, thinking such things weak and beneath him—better for everyone if he not dare to even try. And yet…
Ronan looked away, ignoring the way his stomach twisted, telling himself this was for the best. This marriage was for convenience only and he would never have what those two shared. And still, he told himself he did not want such a thing. Better for all involved…
He stormed away from the dining room, the laughter dying behind him. The first few days of this new arrangement would be hard; he had no doubt. But if he did as he must, avoiding Thalia and Olivia, they would soon forget him as he would them.
And then, finally, things would go back to how they had been. Alone, cut off from the world, and better off for it.