Chapter 26
Theodora gently pulled away from Alexander.
She wiped her face with trembling fingers and tried to look at the Duke who came to save her, but her vision was blurred with tears.
Theodora noticed him reaching out for her hand.
Her heart stilled. He opened her palm and she felt a soft piece of material land in it.
A handkerchief.
“Thank you,” she stuttered.
She needed to think and gather herself. She was not prepared to marry Alexander, not like this, and definitely not as a punishment. She despised that this had become a sort of transaction between two men. But, in all honesty, if the alternative was a convent, she knew which fate she preferred.
“Well, what say you, Your Grace?” Lord Dowell asked Alexander expectantly.
Theodora’s heart hammered. She dabbed at her watery eyes with the handkerchief that smelled just like Alexander. She felt as though she was underwater, holding her breath for his answer.
Surely, he will do what is right and just.
But Alexander remained silent.
Her father’s voice rose. “Do not just stand there like a fool! You have compromised my daughter, have you not? You have met her in secret. You have ruined her. The proper thing to do is to marry her.”
“Father, stop,” Theodora said, her voice cracking with emotions. “You do not understand—”
“I understand perfectly,” he snapped. “I understand that you have behaved recklessly and that this man has taken advantage of you.”
She turned to see Alexander’s jaw tighten.
“I did not take advantage of her,” he finally said.
“Oh?” Lord Dowell sneered. “Then what would you call it? Meeting my daughter in the privacy of your home? Allowing her to write about you in that ridiculous notebook? ‘Experimenting’ with her like some common—”
“Enough!” Alexander’s voice boomed in the library and Theodora flinched, but her father only smirked, sensing an opening.
“Then do the honorable thing,” Lord Dowell said, “and marry her.”
Theodora’s breath caught. She looked at Alexander again, willing him to speak, to say something, anything, that would save her from the fate her father had planned. Alexander’s eyes flicked to hers.
And she inhaled sharply.
“Oh no,” she whispered under her breath.
Alexander brows gathered as he looked at her apologetically. Theodora shook her head and backed away from him.
“I cannot marry her,” he said, his eyes not leaving hers as he spoke.
Theodora felt the world collapse around her. Her vision blurred again but this time her tears felt different. For a moment, she couldn’t hear anything at all, just a sharp and relentless ringing in her ears.
Her father looked just as stunned as she was. “What did you say?”
Alexander turned to him, completely expressionless. “I said I cannot marry her.”
“You arrogant—”
“Stop it! Please!” Theodora yelled
Her father froze then turned his attention to her.
“You disgraced yourself, Theodora. You threw yourself at a man who clearly does not want you.”
Alexander flinched at that, but he didn’t speak or argue.
Theodora stared at him in disbelief; she was unable to move or breathe.
“Alexander,” she whispered. “Is that truly how you feel?”
He did not look at her.
“Yes, Theodora…I am sorry,” he said quietly before he walked out of the library.
Theodora’s lips parted, but no sound came out. She watched Alexander her last sliver of hope slipped away with him.
Her father let out a short, cruel laugh. “Well. There you have it. Apparently, the Duke did not care about you at all. Now that he has taken what he wanted from you—”
“Benjamin! Stop this torture, at once!” Her mother’s voice cut through the tense air.
How long was she standing there?
Theodora gazed helplessly at her. Lady Dowell looked as though she had aged ten years in the last two days.
Lord Dowell grunted. “Torture? I am stating facts.”
“You are humiliating our daughter.” Her mother scolded him like a child. “And for what? To soothe your own pride?”
“My pride is all that stands between this family and ruin!” He barked.
Lady Dowell laughed humorlessly. The sound was unnatural and it made Theodora’s skin crawl. She stepped forward, placing herself between him and their daughter.
“You are the reason this family is ruined.”
Lord Dowell’s face darkened. “Do not insult me in my own house.”
“Do not torment our child in her own home,” she shot back. “God knows she has suffered enough keeping your dirty secrets.”
He swore under his breath, brushed past her, and left the room. Theodora tried to stand tall and keep her chin up. She pretended as though she wasn’t falling apart.
I am a composed, rational woman. As I have always been.
But when her mother reached her and wrapped her arms around her, the last of Theodora’s strength gave way. A sharp pain shot through her chest and her knees buckled. She let out an inhuman cry and collapsed, dragging her mother down with her, whilst sobbing into her shoulder.
“Oh, Theodora, my darling. Theo, breathe,” her mother whispered, holding her tightly. “Please, breathe.”
But Theodora could not breathe. She couldn’t think. And she couldn’t understand how everything had fallen apart so quickly. She had been so careful and cautious. She had tried so hard to keep her world in order. And now everything was shattered.
Her mother stroked her hair and spoke softly despite her own trembling. “It is all right. I am here. It is all going to be all right.”
“He left,” Theodora croaked and felt that sharp pain again, pulsing through her chest and travelling along her entire body.
“I know,” her mother whispered.
“He left.” Theodora sobbed.
Nothing made sense.
“Why did he leave me, Mother?”
Her mother held her tighter. “My sweet girl, I am so sorry.”
Theodora’s sobs grew harsher. Her breath came in sharp, painful gasps. She felt humiliated, foolish, and exposed. She had allowed herself to hope, just a little, and just enough to imagine that someone had come to save her. But now that hope had been ripped away.
Her mother cupped her face gently. “Look at me.”
Theodora forced her eyes open.
“This is not your fault,” she said firmly. “Do you hear me? None of this is your fault.”
Theodora shook her head. “He did not want me and I thought—I thought he would. I am a fool, Mother.”
“He is the fool,” Lady Dowell said. “A frightened fool.”
Theodora let out a broken laugh. “I do not even believe in love. I never have. I never wanted any of this.”
Her mother brushed a tear from her cheek. “Not believing in love does not protect you from heartbreak.”
Theodora closed her eyes. When she spoke, her voice was barely a whisper. “I do not understand why it hurts so much.”
“Because you cared for him, Theo,” she said softly. “Even if you did not want to.”
“I did not mean to.”
“I know.”
Her mother pulled her into another embrace, rocking her gently as though she were a child again. Theodora clung to her, feeling small, fragile, and utterly defeated. After a while, Lady Dowell helped her sit up, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
“Come, darling. You need some sleep.”
Theodora nodded weakly. She let her mother guide her down the hallway, her legs unsteady beneath her. Every step felt heavy, as though she were walking through water.
When they reached her room, her mother sat her on the edge of the bed. “Lie down and rest.”
Theodora shook her head. “I cannot. If I lie down, I will think about him—” Another sob rocked through her.
Her mother squeezed her hand and laid a kiss on her forehead. “I will bring you some tea.”
She briskly left the bedchamber and Theodora tried not to think about Alexander.
She really did. But her mind kept replaying the moment he said that he could not marry her.
She had not expected him to confess his love for her or anything of that sort.
But she had hoped he would do what was proper and right and true to what she believed was their friendship.
Theodora curled onto her side, pulling her knees to her chest. She stared at the wall, her eyes burning, and her throat raw.
She knew for certain that all men were the same.
That once a woman gave her all, which was nothing but her body, then they would pack up and leave.
She stared at the crumpled-up handkerchief in her hand.
The Duke’s initials had been stitched in the corner of the cloth.
Why did he come at all?
The answer would remain a mystery because she vowed to never see the Scarlet Duke again.
Theodora did not truly know what love was or if it even existed in a world run by lust.
I surely will not believe in it anymore.
She threw Alexander’s handkerchief onto the floor.
But I know of one thing that exists, for certain.
Her mother entered her chamber with a tray of tea and biscuits. Theodora knew that Lady Dowell made it herself because of the way the biscuits were lined up perfectly together.
Heartbreak.
Her mother, although exhausted, smiled sweetly at her. Then she handed Theo a cup of steaming hot tea.
The evidence of heartbreak is greater than the evidence of love. Afterall… my father was the first to break my heart.
* * *
“I cannot marry her.”
Alexander’s own words haunted him, and he felt sick the entire journey to Wiltshire.
There was a slow, gnawing dread that sat low in his stomach and refused to ease.
He had slept barely an hour, replaying the moment in the Dowell library over and over again until he wanted to tear the memory out of his skull.
He had walked away. He had left her standing there with her father’s accusations ringing in the air.
He had done what he always did when things became too real—he ran.
“We have arrived, Your Grace,” the driver announced.
Finally.
The carriage rolled to a stop and Alexander peeked through the window at Wiltshire estate. Rosalind was already waiting at the front door, waving ecstatically.
“Alex!” she yelled.