Chapter 46 #2
“I am giving you everything you could ever want as a second son. A title, an estate through your wife’s dowry. You should be kissing my boots; instead, you’re showing me how unworthy you are of this gift. Do you not understand how this will benefit you?”
Taking a cloth from the washstand, Perry wiped his face. His cheek burned, marred by the mark of the duke’s hand. He crumbled to the floor, curled into himself, cloaked in misery. Resting his head on his knees, the hard wood of the bed frame dug into his back. He welcomed the pain.
His voice trembled from the aftereffects of the illness. “I don’t want any of it,” he said, his voice rough and desperate.
Snorting with a scornful laugh, his father rolled his eyes.
“But you will have it. If you’re holding some hope to wed that sickly Townsend chit, you are deluding yourself.
She will not have you; her father will never allow it.
She is already betrothed, if she even lives long enough to make it to her own wedding.
A woman of such poor health would not bear you strong heirs. ”
Perry finally saw exactly how much hatred for him his father possessed. Their name, their reputation, their fortune, that was all that mattered to him. His children were pawns in increasing his prestige. Feathers in his cap. Their desires never once came into play.
He should have known when Beauregard was betrothed to a mere child.
Or his sister to an old, miserly man, before she had even come of age to wed.
He had fought for Charlotte and lost. Her family wouldn’t allow him access to her and his proposal of marriage had been denied. Soon after his meeting with the Townsends, rumors had begun to circulate of their daughter succumbing to a horrible fever, sealing his fate.
What was there to fight for if Charlotte no longer lived?
What was there to fight for if his heart was so completely broken? It was of no use to anyone. He was a shell of a man, and perhaps this would make a wedding to Eliza easier.
An empty shell could no longer feel pain.
The duke pinched Perry’s chin between his thumb and forefinger.
“You will fulfill your duty, my boy. There is no other option. The girl is as good as dead; I’ve heard it from my own sources.
Let her go. It is time for you to take your place in society as an earl.
You have no idea what I have done to secure you this bride.
Do not waste my efforts.” Rufus Spencer shook his head, watching Perry wither at his words.
A hollow pit formed in his gut as he absorbed his father’s words.
He had ruined Charlotte and would never be given the opportunity to make things right.
Even worse, he cared deeply for her in a way he could never care for his future wife.
Though both he and Charlotte understood the terms of their relationship, he struggled against the reality once it came to pass.
Marrying another would be the ultimate betrayal to the affection that had grown between them.
He was lower than the dirt beneath her shoes.
Despair wrapped itself around his heart as a sob tore from his throat.
The elder Spencer laughed. “Now you dare weep like a weak woman? What an utter embarrassment you are. Have you no pride? It is time to be a man and wear the mantle of your responsibilities as the blessings they are. You are to be an earl. A second son could never hope to achieve so much in his lifetime. I have saved you from becoming cannon fodder and this is how you show your gratitude?” he seethed, his fists curling at his sides.
“You are lucky if Eliza will even look at you after such a demonstration of weakness. Get up!” His final words were spoken through clenched teeth.
“I can’t.” Perry shook his head, his breath shuddering in his chest.
“You will,” his father warned, his tone dripping with contempt. Taking Perry up by the scruff of his jacket, he dragged him into the wooden chair next to his desk and shoved a quill in his hand. “Sign it.”
As the tip of the quill scratched over the cream-colored vellum, Perry realized he was weak.
He was a failure. Nothing mattered anymore as his pen moved over the paper, the loops and swirls of his signature sealing his fate.
His body was numb, and he questioned whether being cannon fodder might perhaps have been the best destiny for him.
The memories ate at his very soul. Signing those papers had made Perry live a hollow existence for so long.
Flicking the paper in his hand, Perry let it drift back to the desk, the memories haunting.
His heart stuttered in his chest, knowing it had all been a lie.
His father had conspired to keep them apart, his greed motivating him to do anything to achieve his goals.
Though Charlotte’s father had played a role, Perry wondered how far the former duke had gone to secure this match.
Perry had swallowed the lies that kept Charlotte hidden from society when all he would have wanted was to be her husband. To be the father to their child. Guilt gnawed at his conscience. He had been kept in ignorance of so much back then.
If only he had known.
With a heavy sigh, he pushed away the memories.
They only strengthened his resolve to solve this mystery.
What lengths did the duke go to secure Eliza as his bride?
Giving his head a shake, Perry turned to Mr. Winthrop.
He needed to focus on finding a evidence, something to save the new life he had found.
His father’s lies may have won out in the past, but the truth had saved them.
Saved him. He wouldn’t waste this gift dwelling on his mistakes.
His wife and his daughter depended on him not to throw away their second chance at happiness.