CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“If you will stop your incessant fretting and actually sit down, Graham, I might be able to help.”
Owen’s voice was tense and frustrated.
“I do not need help,” Graham snapped. He had retreated from the study window after seeing his sister and wife outside, both of them discussing the ball, judging from the way they had each pointed at different parts of the garden.
He couldn’t stop replaying in his head the moment that Amelia had begun to dance, spinning around in a circle, as though they danced together.
Was she thinking of their night at the first ball, when the gossip claimed her whole plan had begun?
“What is wrong?” Owen asked. “We have been friends since our Eton days. I have watched you go through a lot of things, Graham, so why will you not speak your mind now? I will not judge you.”
“It is not me I am afraid of you judging,” Graham sighed. “It is my wife that would receive the judgement, and I do not know if it is fair for her. I assume you read the scandal sheet this morning?”
Owen stiffened. “I skimmed through it, I admit. I only really looked for Lady Eleanor’s name, and I spotted yours. I cleared my day to come over here.”
“Do not pretend like your days are full to the brim that you could not find a spare hour,” Graham muttered.
“Stop scowling at me and actually tell me what is wrong.”
Graham finally sat down in the chair at his desk and poured two glasses of brandy.
He pushed one towards Owen, who snatched it up immediately.
Around him, the study was open and bright, not at all how he usually had it.
He often worked in dim lighting, the curtains closed, and only a candle to see by.
He had done that in the earlier days of his father’s death, when grief had gripped him like a vise, and he had not wanted to see anything at all in his own space.
Not the portrait of his father on the wall, nor the brandy tumblers his father had bestowed upon him, or the space that he had sat in with his father so many times learning the ways of the dukedom.
Over time he had exposed himself to those things but still did not adjust the lighting. Not until Amelia had arrived, and it was as though she had possessed a light within herself, brightening everything around him even when he tried to darken it.
So why do I doubt her? He thought. And he knew it was because most men did not realize they were being played until all was said and done, and broken.
“I have barely noticed your face,” Owen said, frowning. “Whatever happened?”
“I was attacked coming out of the Fairfax estate. It is nothing. I am well.”
“You are bruised and cut!”
“My most wounded part is my ego for being taken by surprise.” Graham drank deeply. “Regardless. The gossip column.”
“Speak to me,” Owen encouraged. He leaned forward, brushing blonde curls out of his face.
Graham sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face.
“The scandal sheet has made me doubt in Amelia’s motives.
It questioned, as it has done before, whether she has trapped me into a marriage.
At first, I did not believe it, and was merely angry, blaming myself for being careless. Until I began to think harder about it.
“A lot of things make sense. At the ball where we met, she collided into me and fell, not knowing I would ask her to dance, but she caught my attention nonetheless.
After that, she just happened to be at Hyde Park at the same time as us, and did not say a lot, letting her quiet, timid image come through.
Again, I blamed myself for not speaking with her more.
“And then at Kensington House she was not placed next to me but Lord Ambrose, and there have been rumours that she kept looking at me, as I admittedly did her.”
“I did notice that,” Owen said. “Then again, I believe everybody noticed that.”
Graham only ignored his friend. “After the tea, I went into the hedge maze. Nobody else sought that place out except for Amelia. She saw me, knew it was me, and she did not leave. The next minute, a large group discovered us. She could have walked out and saved herself a scandal.”
“As could have you.”
“But what if she purposefully waited for us to be discovered?”
“She is known for finding quieter places,” Owen said.
“Who says you were not the only person she trusted to remain quiet with her? And Lady Cassandra found you, indeed, but when have they ever been friends? If anything the rumours and what Lady Eleanor has told me points to anything but. In fact, Lady Eleanor seems to think Lady Cassandra had her eye on you.”
“Which could prove more desperate efforts for Amelia to secure me,” Graham insisted.
“It all makes sense, Owen! Lady Cassandra is the daughter of a marquess with better standing, more outgoing, utterly wrong for me. Amelia would have known she would lose. In her third Season, against women like Lady Cassandra, she would have known that she needed to resort to desperate measures.”
“Graham, I know you do not like being challenged but I believe you are viewing this from the wrong standpoint,” Owen countered gently.
“I do not think Amelia knew of Lady Cassandra’s affection for you.
And if she did, she likely thought she was not entitled to even be looking at you.
You said she seemed honestly confused at you asking her to dance, and then surprised at finding you in the maze. ”
“Yes, but the scandal sheet says she is a fine actress. A seductress.”
“And has she tried to trick you into her chambers? Has she tried to request money, demand more possessions?”
Graham hesitated before shaking his head. “All she has mostly asked for is a tour of the house and unlimited use of the library in the late hours of the night, should she wish. Other than that, she has tried to resist the things I have offered.”
“Does that not say much to you about the type of person she is?”
“And if she is merely a good actress?” he insisted. “And I let myself believe she is honest, and then before I know it my father’s legacy has gone, and Amelia has risen above me in power, trapped me in this marriage, and become some tyrant duchess that sullies the Blackthorn name.”
Owen barked a laugh. “Listen to yourself, friend! Your name is already sullied due to your own reputation. You have been in those gossip columns more times than I can count. Yes, you are a duke and that precedes a lot of your poor reputation, but if Her Grace was to pick a man to swindle then she would choose another, more upstanding male of the ton, no?”
“But nobody was looking her way,” he said. “She told me so. I was the only man who saw her.”
“And I think that makes her feel admired, not powerful,” Owen pointed out.
“She went down just as much as you did. She gambled her family’s name to marry you.
She was ashamed of the garden discovery—not because it was you but because of what it would do to you and your family.
Trust in that, Graham. I understand why you are doubting but remember that although the scandal sheets can tell truths, it can make heinous lies based on speculation.
The writer is good at twisting the perspective.
They feed off gossip to circulate around the ton.
The more dramatic the better. Amelia has been an easy target for it is known she has not been able to stand up for herself.
” Owen cocked his head at him, pausing for a moment to drink.
“I believe you may have emboldened her. Lady Eleanor certainly thinks so, and I am inclined to trust her implicitly.”
Graham, thoroughly ashamed for doubting, for his outburst at breakfast, could only nod. He truly did doubt that she was capable of such a thing but perhaps he had convinced himself of it all for the sake of building his walls.
“I was vulnerable with her last night in the carriage,” he said quietly.
“And there is your answer as to why you wish to portray her as a villain,” Owen sighed, shaking his head.
“You are scared of having opened up so you need a reason to shut back down on her. You are the Duke of Blackthorn, Graham. The past is buried; it cannot be undone. The only thing it can be is mourned, honoured, and wept over if you need to. You have a wife who can be your confidante as well. I do not mean to lecture you but it is high time somebody did.”
Chastised, Graham nodded again. “I believe you are right.”
“I know I am. Now, do you mind if we recall that other men exist apart from yourself? I wish to tell you about Lady Eleanor and me.”
Graham gestured for his friend to go on, and Owen sat up straighter, excited at the prospect of talking about Lady Eleanor.
“We have danced many a time,” he told Graham, laughing quietly.
“I must say, she is a terrific dancer. She knows all of them! There was your aunt’s ball, and then there was the garden party, where, although we did not dance we did have a terribly fun game of shuttlecock.
I am surprised we have not been written about in those columns. ”
“Be grateful you are not for it means you are doing wrong,” Graham countered.
“Or something right,” Owen suggested. “I wish for Lady Eleanor to have a whirlwind courtship.”
“You do intend to court her, then?”
Owen grinned. “I am an eligible man of the ton, you know. We are not all dukes.”
“You are a viscount,” Graham uttered. “That is not important enough for you?”
Owen only laughed, the sound high and bright. “I enjoy her company, Graham. It is refreshing. I believe that she is not like other ladies of the ton.”
“She is an earl’s daughter,” Graham hedged. “Be careful, Owen. Her parents seem like very friendly people but you are also below their status. They might be unpleasant about that.”
“I believe they are good enough people that they could see this to be a love match.”
“Love?” Graham echoed, unsure why the word rattled him so much. In his head, he heard a gunshot, a wound burning across his face, and the screams. Men like him, with blood on their hands, and violence in a dark past, were not built for love, no matter how much they wished they fit.
“Love.” Owen nodded. Graham flicked his gaze from his glass to his friend. “It can feel beautiful, if only you let it in.”
“You fancy yourself loving Lady Eleanor, then?”
“Not yet,” Owen admitted, “yet I feel deeply for her.”
Graham nodded absently. He drained his brandy, stood up, walked to the window, only to find that Amelia had left the garden.
What was that jump in his chest that had happened when he had thought about her being there?
And why did his heart sink when he looked for her and found her not there when he could simply seek her out in the house?
“Would you like to attend a gentleman’s club with me?” Owen invited. “I was planning to go after seeing you but I would like to invite you.”
Graham shook his head. “I have ventured into society well enough this week, do you not think? I do not wish to bring more gossip to my door.”
Owen nodded, understanding. “Very well. Speak to Amelia, Graham. Allow her the opportunity to express herself.”
***
Fighting against Owen’s advice, Graham gave into his instincts to hide, and retreated into the library.
Looking at the shelves, he realized he was not entirely in there for books, and pieced together his motive: he hadn’t run from the advice, for, without realizing, his steps had carried him to the very place he knew Amelia liked to frequent at least once a day.
It was though he naturally would be drawn to her there.
He looked around, wondering which books she had already read, which in his collection she’d already picked up, what she wished to read.
Scanning the spines as he might see her fingerprints, he searched for clues of his duchess in the stacks, only to feel ashamed of actively looking for her when he had been the one to push her away.
He noticed a piece of paper sticking out from a copy of As You Like It, with Daphne’s neat cursive.
Plucking it free, he read it, smiling. Dearest sister-in-law, if you have not read this yet then I urge you to.
Rosalind is warm-hearted, intelligent, and a very good judge of love.
You might find some comfort in her. Do come speak with me once you have read it!
“What is that you are reading?”
Graham dropped the piece of paper, startled, and whirled around to face Amelia. His heart pounded when he looked at her, thinking of everything Owen had said to him.
“I—I found it,” he said, feeling very off-kilter, and disliking it greatly.
“I believe Daphne is urging you to read her recommendation.” He picked up the note and slid it into the book again.
Amelia only nodded, looking at him from the doorway.
In a dress the color of cherry blossom trees, she looked beautiful, and he could not tear his gaze from her.
He did not know what she saw in his eyes, perhaps some of the openness he felt since talking to his friend, but suddenly Amelia was drawing nearer, and Graham fretted.
“Do not come closer,” he whispered, his voice tight. “I have explained to you my… my curse.”
“I do not find you cursed,” she murmured. “I find you pained and scarred from a past you did not have a say in.”
“I hurt you today. I cannot guarantee it will not happen again.”
“It might do,” Amelia allowed. “It might not do. Regardless, I told you that we fight the shadows together, not apart.”
“And yet… I doubted you.”
“And do you still?”
There was such open honesty in her gaze that he could not help but shake his head, knowing that he should not have doubted her.
“How are you feeling?” Her question came soft, as if unsure whether she should ask it or not.
“I am well,” he told her. “Very well, in fact. And yet all at once I feel rather mad by my own thoughts for I cannot untangle them from one to the next. I understand why men do strange things for those they desire.”
His voice was a mere rasp by the time he had crossed the distance between them. There was such wide-eyed innocence in her eyes, and he craved to see more of it, more of her. How could he have thought she had tricked him? She was just as lost as he was in this grand society.
Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, Graham gazed at her.
He should have let his hand fall but it did not.
Instead, his palm lingered, and he discovered how her face cupped into it, as though the two shapes were made to fit together.
And for a moment, Amelia leaned into his hand, as though she craved the touch as much as he wished to give it.
With her eyes fluttering closed, Graham wished to be suspended in this moment.
Amelia’s breath hitched, and he wondered if she could hear his heartbeat, for it seemed to echo deep within him. He struggled to regain control of himself. He ought to retreat, to protect her. She was already married to him; was that not punishment enough that he had done that to her?
No, he had to desire her too.