Chapter 30
Verity had never felt so tormented by the truth in all her life. As she clutched at the desk, the cold wood offering her no comfort but hard edges that dug into her skin, she stared at her husband. Her mind attempted to piece together the truth.
She had learned much during this insightful conversation. And yet it wasn’t enough.
It’s never enough.
There were pieces missing to this puzzle. She could see the holes and wiggle her finger through them. But she couldn’t find the questions to find the answers.
Every time she thought she could get close, Verity found herself trapped in a cycle of slowly comprehending what the duke had said.
Dominic knew. He had known about her uncle for so long. Longer than anyone else would have. Had he been there to hear Uncle Will’s final words? What could have happened? Was it an accident? Or a crime?
And what about her family? Dominic offered no names. It could be any of them. All of them.
Horror at the betrayal sunk into her chest deeper and deeper. Slowly Verity sunk down into the large leather chair. A lump formed in her throat. She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. A new pain surfaced, leaving her bewildered and confused with no remedy.
“I did not say this to hurt you.”
It took a minute for Verity to register the words. As the shock slowly cleared, she lifted her head to look at Dominic. There he stood by the door. He had a handle on it so he could leave quickly. Like he’d been trying to do all this time.
Now, he lingered, cautiously glancing her way like she was a wounded animal.
Perhaps I am. And he knew it. He knew…
She licked her lips. They still felt swollen from a kiss that had happened ages ago. Both she and her husband had changed greatly since. This entire conversation… Everything had changed between them.
Dominic sighed and then opened the door to take his leave.
But Verity felt something sharp through the shock and sadness. Anger came biting. She grabbed the armchair tightly with her nails as she glared at him. Her husband was a different person now.
All this while, he kept me in the dark. He saw me cry and did nothing about it. What sort of person does this?
“Why?” Verity felt, her voice horse and shaking with anger. “Why tell me this now?”
“You asked.”
“I…” A dry laugh escaped her before she could help it.
Shaking her head, she stared over at him.
“Don’t talk to me like that. Don’t hide behind your manners and stern ways at a time like this.
Dominic. For all the control you claim to have, you give and you take however you choose, when you choose.
This isn’t fair. I’m not a… a mouse caught in a trap. I am your wife.”
“And I made a promise.”
She pursed her lips together. Her knuckles whitened over her tight grip on the desk. “Does that exceed our marriage vows?”
“Do you wish for me to break my promise?” He asked in return.
“I make my mistakes, but I am not the only one. The doors you have opened cannot be closed. Though you may learn the truth in time, Verity, it will not be a truth that helps you rest. Sometimes the lies are more comforting and sometimes it is best for the people to know nothing.”
“You do not get to decide that!”
“I don’t. And now, neither do you.” Sighing, Dominic brushed a hand through his hair and pushed the door open. The conversation was at an end. But not before he added, “I will not put you in danger, Verity.”
Then he left her alone in his own study.
Verity’s throat constricted as she stared at the sliver of the hallway she could see once he left. The door never closed completely. She wondered if that mattered.
It must not. Nor does anything in this office, I suppose, or he would not leave me like this where I could access anything I liked.
He is not a fool. And yet I must wonder if I have been one…
What does all this mean? All I wanted was to make sense of my life and now I fear I have upended everything.
Although Verity’s intention had been to rebuild common ground for her and her husband, she wasn’t confident about how this had ended.
It was clear that Dominic cared somewhat for her.
How much, she wasn’t certain. She wasn’t brave enough to ask.
But he was involved. More than she could have ever imagined.
Her cheeks burned for a moment over the memory of their searing kiss. She might dream of that in the years to come.
But she might also have nightmares, like the few she experienced after losing Uncle Will. To hear that Dominic had been there, that he knew…
Verity spent the next two days alone to sort out her emotions.
To catch her breath, she went riding and rested and wrote feverishly about everything.
She wrote pages and pages worth of questions and conspiracies and doubts and her fears and wishes.
Every page was crumpled and tossed into the fire, a waste she should have been embarrassed to acknowledge.
The anger softened into a thorn-ridden grudge that she nursed by avoiding Dominic just as he avoided her. And when she needed a distraction, she went out into society.
She attended a musicale. It wasn’t her favorite since half the volunteering performers weren’t well-rehearsed, and it was hard to hear the whispers. But she needed some time for her mind to clear.
“I don’t know why we’re here,” Octavia murmured at her side whilst fanning herself. “It’s my first Season and it must be my hundredth musicale.”
Seated with her mock sketchbook, Verity glanced at her sister whom she was escorting for the evening since their brothers had vanished. Elowen wasn’t feeling up for the event, so she remained at the family house.
“At least Lacy isn’t performing tonight.”
Verity sighed. “You should try to be more generous with your words. Someone could hear you, Octavia.”
“And think less of me?” Her youngest sister raised an impish eyebrow.
“They’ll recover. But Lacy won’t. Last time she left in tears when she didn’t think the applause was loud enough, don’t you recall?
And she could not sort out the rhythm. It was such a simple ditty, I don’t know how she could have gone out of tune. ”
“Not everyone can be exemplary at music,” Verity whispered in turn with a wry smile. “Just like not everyone may be exemplary at dancing.”
Her sister pouted. “I am improving. My dance instructor told me so.”
“And your dance partners?”
“Are too polite to complain, so I must be right.” Octavia winked before turning back as the pianist stood and curtsied. “Brava, Eve, Brava!”
Verity blinked, having not recognized Octavia’s friend. She glanced around warily as she realized she was quite distracted indeed. While the musicale was certain to give her a headache by the time they took their leave, she would at least be amused by her sister’s antics.
The musicale carried on. Even after Eve joined them, Octavia chattered quietly all the while.
They received countless looks of annoyance that did nothing to impact Octavia.
But, as they all knew, nothing was said as the performance came to a close and everyone gathered in the next room for drinks and desserts.
“Not another chocolate cake,” Eve complained. “We must have the lemon.”
“I thought that was gauche now?”
“No, chocolate is gauche.”
The two young women turned to Verity who had been eyeing a cousin of the Qintby family. There were rumors about the family and she was curious if she might learn more.
But then she glanced back at the younger ladies, confused. “What is it?”
“What’s more gauche this season, chocolate or lemon?” Octavia asked with a smile of amusement.
“There is nothing gauche about dessert,” Verity retorted.
While that wasn’t necessarily what she might run in the journal––she’d overheard their hostess speaking to three dames of Society about the woes of orange blossom desserts––she personally didn’t care. She didn’t care that much for desserts as it was.
No, she wanted gossip. The secrets.
As Octavia and Eve scurried off with whispered giggles, Verity started slowly in the other direction. She had tucked away the sketchbook with a few notes penned down before greeting familiar faces one by one.
“As luck would have it, we were very clear about our investments last year. The new house in Venice would not come free, after all. I heard there was quite a loss last year in the market, or so my husband says.”
“How tragic,” replied Mrs. James, a daughter of a duke who had married a common banker.
Intelligent and well-spoken, it wasn’t abnormal to find her on occasion or to hear such chatter.
She didn’t attend many events but as her own daughter was having her first season, it appeared she was determined to appear where she could.
The daughter, Miss Rachel James, stood silently at her mother’s elbow with a wary gaze.
“Indeed. We could hardly believe there wasn’t a word said about…” Lady Smythe blinked as Verity arrived. Older and well-respected, she was wed to the Earl of Mendleton; they traveled often, Verity recalled, “Good evening, Your Grace. What a delight to see you in attendance.”
“I could say the same for each of you.” Verity paused, wondering if she could convince the countess to keep speaking on her topic.
“You have a place in Venice, I hear? Do forgive me for overhearing. Only my husband and I are hoping to visit soon, and I should like to hear from another where we might best rent a property.”
“Oh? How exciting. Yes, I shall send you my list of everything you must do and experience in Venice first thing on the morrow. I shouldn’t like to bore you through the details this evening,” the lady added graciously.
Verity’s smile tightened and she tried again. “That would be greatly appreciated, thank you. I hope you don’t mind, but I was curious about your mention of the market?”
“Tch, silly me. It’s awfully rude to consider such unnecessary talk on such a lovely evening. Do let it go. And be certain to try the champagne. Less classy, but very delicious,” Lady Smythe added neatly.