Chapter 22
The evening cold drifted in from the cracks under the study door. Roderick had gone up there to hide away from Lavinia’s rage. He was sitting in his chair, his elbows on the desk, his head pressed into his palms.
I should have spoken to her. I had the chance to…
The door creaked as it opened. Roderick’s shoulders tensed as the scent of lavender drifted into the room.
The timbre of her shoes on the wooden floor was well known to him by then.
He slowly turned to look at her. Lavinia no longer looked like a ferocious beast. She looked much more terrifying.
The ferocious anger had been replaced with something controlled, something aimed at him.
“Your Grace,” she said, her voice cold and distant. “Did you suggest to my father that you would offer financial support should I be courted by Lord Casterleigh?”
The question hung between them like the sword of Damocles.
“I did,” Roderick admitted reluctantly. He watched the words wash over Lavinia, and he stood up before she could speak again. “I did it because I wanted to secure your future. I knew you would not wish to be here longer than you needed—”
“Did I ever say that?” she bit out. A pang of fear shot through Roderick.
“Not explicitly,” he admitted. “But I did not wish for you to feel as though you were an imposition.”
“An imposition,” she repeated. “And your thought to not make me feel like a burden was to sell me off to another man?”
“Not sell you off, just…” The words died in his throat. “I wished for you to be able to find the freedom you so dearly wished for.”
“You do not understand,” she said, shaking her head. “I would not need to feel such things if you were able to keep your promises. What happened to working together?”
“I wished for you to be able to choose who you married,” he explained.
“So, you allowed my choice to be made for me?” she asked. “I was never given a choice. I was corralled toward the man you and my father believed was right for me, without ever allowing me to make a true choice!”
“I… I had not…” he stuttered, feeling he was rapidly losing the argument.
“You are like every other man I have encountered,” she sighed. “You decided my fate behind locked doors. You tried to give me the illusion of choice, but we know that illusions are not reality. My father chose my first husband, and now, you saw fit to choose my second.”
“Miss Lavinia, please, listen,” Roderick said plaintively. “I did not wish for you to find out this way. I wanted you to be happy. I believed I was doing the right thing.”
“You were not,” she stated plainly. “I do not wish you to feel you have to protect me, when I have been more than capable of looking after myself before you arrived.”
“You should not have had to do that alone,” Roderick replied.
“And that gives you the right to take away my agency?” she asked, the fire burning in her eyes. “I never needed you to swoop in as a white knight. I needed you to be honest with me.”
“I…” he stuttered. “I wanted to be honest with you. But if I was honest with you, then you would not wish to be around me because you would know I—”
He stopped himself, eyes wide.
“You what?” she asked, folding her arms.
I love you
He bit his bottom lip, stopping the answer from leaving him.
I should not burden her with my feelings right now… Not after this betrayal.
Silence filled the space between them until she turned away from him.
“I thought you were different,” she whispered. “I suppose I was wrong.”
Lavinia walked out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
Roderick slumped down into his seat, staring up at the ceiling, his chest aching. He remained there long after the sound of her footsteps had faded from the corridor, long after the last echo of the slammed door had died away into the ordinary creaks and settlings of the house.
The fire in the grate flickered, but he did not move or think to feed it. There was something almost fitting about the encroaching cold. A punishment he did not have the courage to name, but one he accepted.
I love you.
The words sat behind his teeth, like a stone he had swallowed and could not bring back up.
He had come so close to saying those words.
Closer than he had ever come before. It should have alarmed him how quickly and completely Lavinia had settled into him.
Like she was a part of him, and he had not noticed how fast the roots had wrapped around his heart.
Roderick closed his eyes, his mind turning to his father. He wished he had not thought of that vile man. The same man who hurt his mother. The same man whose blood ran through him. The old fears of being like his father rose up in his chest.
He knew it was illogical, by all accounts. But the longer he had held onto his feelings, the more he worried that he could use those feelings to hurt her. If he could just hide them for long enough, perhaps they would wither and die, and she would be safe from him.
And yet, there he was. He had gone behind her back, had spoken with her father about settlements and allowances, as if those were the currency of love.
As though a woman’s freedom might be purchased and presented to her without once being consulted on the terms. He had told himself that it was different, because his intentions were kind.
Of course she had seen right through him…
You are like every other man I have encountered.
He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes until color bloomed behind the lids.
It was not the accusation that had wounded him most, though it wounded him plenty.
It was that he could not, in honesty, argue against it.
He had wanted so badly to be different from her father, from the past duke…
Yet he had not once asked her what she had wanted despite his promises of togetherness. He had simply decided for her.
A log shifted behind the grate, collapsing into embers with a soft hiss, and the small violence of the sound startled him from his thoughts.
“I cannot linger like this,” he whispered, attempting to turn back to his work despite his awareness that it was a foolish endeavor to try when he was so deep in his own mind.
It was almost a blessing when he heard footsteps approaching the study.
“Your Grace?” Mr. Pike said, pushing open the door. “Is Miss Devereux quite all right?”
“No,” Roderick said.
“Dare I ask what happened?”
“I have angered her. Quite terribly. No. That is too gentle a term to explain it. I should not have pushed her into Lord Casterleigh’s arms. I should have done something else. I thought I was doing the right thing,” he said before he looked over at Mr. Pike.
“I see,” Mr. Pike said gently.
“I thought I was helping her, but I did it all terribly,” Roderick explained, putting his head in his hands.
“Yes,” Mr. Pike said slowly. “But Miss Devereux is well known for being a woman who values her freedom and independence. Above anything else. Going behind her back, no matter your intention, was always going to lead to this outcome.”
“I know,” Roderick groaned.
“That would explain one thing,” Mr. Pike sighed.
“And what would that be?” Roderick asked, pulling his hands away from his face.
“It would explain why I saw Miss Devereux leaving the house and walking toward the woods.”
“What?” Roderick asked, sitting bolt upright.
“Indeed. I cannot imagine she is going there to pick wildflowers.”
“She left when it was nearly dark?” Roderick asked, standing quickly and reaching for his coat.
“Wait,” Mr. Pike urged.
“No! It is almost dark; she will not be safe out there!” Roderick shouted.
“You would only make her mood worse, potentially driving her deeper into the woods. She is capable, and she will return when she is ready to.”
“I… ” Roderick began as he looked between Mr. Pike and the window. His heart raced in his chest as he watched the sun starting to dim in the sky. “I suppose…”
“You know I am right,” Mr. Pike said softly. “Now come, it is almost time for dinner.”
Roderick nodded and followed closely after Mr. Pike.
***
Dinner was a quiet affair. Roderick did not eat, spending the the time pushing it around his plate instead.
“Are you quite well, Your Grace?” Lord Fenwick asked. “You look unwell. Has something happened?”
“I am fine,” Roderick replied coldly. “Pressing estate matters are clouding my mind.”
“I see,” Lord Fenwick said with a nod.
Cecily looked up at him nervously. She did not say anything, but Roderick could see the concern in her eyes
What a foolish man I am…
The rest of dinner was no better. Lord Fenwick attempted to speak several times, forcing conversation. It did not work.
As soon as he felt it was safe enough to leave without insulting anyone, Roderick excused himself and walked toward the entrance hall. He leaned against the wall closest to the door, tapping his foot nervously.
“Is this about Lavinia?” Cecily asked, startling Roderick, who had not been aware of her presence.
“I—Yes,” Roderick said, catching his breath. “It… is complicated.”
“I am sure it is,” Cecily replied then hesitated.
“I know you wish to make things right. You are a good man beneath it all. My sister, however, can be rather stubborn in these things. I do not blame her. She has been harmed by men before. Directly, and otherwise. I am aware it is not often the proper thing, but you will need to let her lead.”
“I am not used to letting anyone lead, let alone a woman,” Roderick admitted, running a hand through his hair.
“And yet it is what needs to be done,” Cecily said, turning to walk up the stairs toward her chambers.
Roderick watched her go. His heart raced, but he knew Cecily was right. She knew Lavinia best of all.
***
The sun sank deeper in the sky, until night finally arrived. After an hour, Mr. Pike approached Roderick and stood with him. Roderick watched the clock on the wall carefully. The short hand slowly moving from seven, to nine, to eleven.
Just a few moments before midnight, the door burst open.
Lavinia strode into the house, her dress muddied, her hair unpinned and wild around her face.
“There you are,” Roderick gasped. “Where have you been?”
“The woods,” she replied blankly.
“Miss Devereux,” he said, grabbing her arm. “No matter what happened between us, you cannot keep storming off, alone, at night! I was worried.”
She paused and started laughing.
“You do not need to waste your concern on me,” she said, pulling her arm out of his grasp.
Lavinia looked over her shoulder, her eyes almost wild.
“Besides, am I not the woman who killed her husband? At least, that is what the people in the village have been saying. Perhaps I was, in truth, the most dangerous beast in those woods.”
“Miss Devereux, do not say that,” Roderick replied. “You and I both know you are no beast. I am sorry I made you angry tonight; I truly believed that I was—”
“Enough,” she sighed. “I do not want your explanations, nor your apologies. Do you know what I want from you?”
“I…” his voice died in his throat. “No. I do not.”
“Then let me speak plainly,” she said, turning fully to face him, smiling. “I want you to leave me alone.”
Lavinia turned toward the stairs and ascended.
Roderick watched her go, his eyes wide, his heart stuttering in his chest.
“Your Grace,” Mr. Pike whispered softly. “Perhaps it is best if you go to rest tonight.”
Roderick was still watching her. He shook his head.
“I do not believe sleep will come to me tonight,” he whispered.