Chapter 4
“Why did you do that!” Caroline squeaked, fear trembling through her veins as she watched his display of violence and strength.
“This is no way for you to live,” Damien testily replied. He bent down, scooped up the broken bits of wood, and chucked them into the darkened hearth. “You are aware of that, right? That you deserve better?”
Caroline shook her head as she watched him kneel down to the hearth, the sound of the flint scraping against the stone fireplace as he picked it up. He was mad. She had questioned it before, but she was certain of it now.
“Look at what you have done! How am I supposed to pay for this now? The landlord will make me pay for a new chair!”
“He can try,” Damien snarled back, then scraped the flint. Sparks flew onto the broken bits of wood, and a moment later, small flames erupted. “And if he does, I shall break his legs as I have broken this pathetic piece of furniture.”
Caroline’s mouth gaped as the light from the fire grew brighter, and Damien added a few more pieces of the broken chair to it.
“You cannot… I…” she stammered, lost for words.
Damien turned from the fire, his handsome face easily seen now as the flames grew higher and heat began to roll from them. He raised a single brow as he stood, stepping to her side as if knowing his wide body could block the heat she clearly needed.
“You felt a liking toward that chair?” he questioned, his face still a mask of hardness.
Not knowing what else to do, Caroline nodded. Yes, it was broken, and the cushion was flat and ripped, but she had sat in it all the same to read or sew many a night in the quiet sanctuary of her dilapidated cottage.
“I can buy you a hundred chairs far better than this one,” Damien stated in a harsh tone, pointing toward the fire.
“I can understand that living on your own is exciting to you. But one day soon, when winter creeps in, the excitement will fade, and you will feel differently. You will struggle far more than you deserve. Far more than you ever need to.”
He paused, closing his amber eyes for a moment as he pulled in a deep breath through his nostrils. When he opened his eyes to look at her again, there was a softness that was not there before.
“Come back with me. Marry me. You will never want for anything again, I swear it.” His tone was still insistent, but he spoke with a gentleness that was so unlike him. It confused Caroline even more.
“Why me?” she asked. His gaze hardened again. “Why would you go to such lengths to marry me?”
“I told you why,” he replied coldly. “I have a duty to protect—”
“No,” she quickly retorted. “I am not so na?ve as to believe that. I want the truth. Why me? Your reputation is intimidating, but you are handsome and wealthy enough to have over half of the ladies of the ton swooning over you. Ladies better titled and certainly more willing than I am.”
Damien raised an amused brow as his lips twitched.
“So you find me handsome?” he asked.
Caroline blushed as she took a step back.
“I never said that,” she huffed, and some of her anger returned as she watched a smug smile spread across his face. “Answer my question and give me the full truth this time.”
Damien’s smugness dissolved as apprehension filled his eyes, and for a moment, he turned away from her, focusing on the fire instead.
“Very well then,” he admitted with a begrudging tone. “The truth is... I need your help with something.”
Caroline’s sleek brows flew up in surprise. Before her was a man reputed to be able to get anything done.
“What could you possibly need my help for?” she asked.
Again, Damien displayed a rare sign of hesitancy.
“A few days after the wedding fiasco, a woman showed up at my door,” he explained with an almost solemn tone.
“With a boy. I had never seen her before. I am certain of it. Yet she claimed the child was mine. That she was sick and could no longer care for him. I protested, of course, but she just left him. Literally ran away, leaving the boy standing before me. He is so very small, and no matter how gently I attempt to speak with him, I frighten him. I hired a nurse, but even she seemed to terrify the lad. I have seen you with children. They adore and trust you. I believe this boy would feel at ease with you.”
Caroline was not sure how to feel about his words, so she wrapped her arms around herself as she looked him up and down.
On one hand, she felt for the abandoned child, having a little experience of her own to understand what that felt like.
On the other hand, though, she was not at all surprised to hear that Damien had an illegitimate child.
There were many women, herself included, who were fearful of what they heard about him.
There were others, though, plenty, who were drawn to such a dangerous man.
“Surely you are not surprised that your rakish behavior produced an illegitimate child,” she said, though it did not come out as harsh as she intended.
Damien tsked his tongue as he shook his head, but did not yet look toward her.
“I told you,” he said, strangely calm despite the slight she had aimed toward him. “The boy is not my son.”
Realizing that it would be useless to keep reminding him of the rumors circulating around him, Caroline replied, “Even so, why ask for my help? A nurse or governess could help you with the boy. Or even my stepsister could have taken on that responsibility.”
Damien turned to her with a weary look.
“Would you choose your stepsister to look after a child?” he asked.
Caroline winced, memories of her past with Lilian surfacing in her mind.
“No,” she admitted in a whisper. “No, I would not.”
“I know how much you love children, Caroline,” he said it without regret or embarrassment.
“I have watched how you are with Adrian and Bridget’s boy, Samuel.
I have also watched you with Elara and Constantine’s children.
You are kind and gentle with them. You possess qualities I cannot grasp, which is why I need you to come back with me. ”
“But—”
“The boy may not be mine, but I am not going to turn him out or send him to an orphanage. Even I am not heartless enough for that,” he continued. “He will stay with me at least until I can find out the truth about his parentage, or whatever I can find out about it.”
Caroline shifted uncomfortably on her feet. She had grown used to thinking about Damien in a particular sort of way, but him taking care of an orphaned child? A child that, according to him, was not even his? That certainly did not align with the man she thought he was.
“So I ask you. Again,” Damien went on. “Marry me. Come back to Mayfair, and help me with this child. You do not want a conventional marriage; that is fine, but I will provide anything you might need. Think of it as a repayment for all you will do for the boy.”
Caroline’s mind churned, caught between wanting to cling to the life she had built for herself and not wanting to abandon a child who was clearly in need of care.
“I... I shall think about it,” she finally said, daring a glance up at him.
It was small, but the hard look on his face shifted to a brief look of relief. He said nothing, but nodded.
“I am going to bed now,” she stated, feeling more exhausted by the day than ever. “You are welcome to the couch if you can refrain from breaking that as well.”
Damien shifted his gaze to the piece of furniture and frowned.
“No promises,” he grumbled.
Choosing to ignore him, Caroline walked to the only other room in the cottage and locked the door behind her. She thought for a moment about changing into her nightshift, but as the door closed off the heat from the fire, she chose to keep her dress on for warmth and slid under her covers.
Damien was a brute. She had known that long before that evening, but the way he broke her chair only made it clearer.
Still, despite her concern about Damien’s tendency toward violence, she also worried about something else—what would her stepmother do if she found out that, despite her best efforts, Damien had married her instead of Lilian after all?
What would marriage to him even be like?