Chapter 27

Chapter Twenty-Seven

“What the hell happened?” Kenneth boomed as he stormed into the room, his boots striking the floor with an urgency that mirrored his concern.

Wilhelm did not react. He sprawled in a chair near the hearth, his eyes fixed on the amber liquid in his glass, watching it swirl.

The room was blanketed in deep shadow, the thick velvet curtains drawn tightly against the encroaching night.

The sole illumination came from the crackling flames in the fireplace, which cast flickering, jagged shapes over the walls and ceiling. The stifling scent of charred wood mingled with the sharp scent of brandy permeated the air.

“Ravenshire,” Kenneth pressed, “answer me.”

Wilhelm took another long gulp of his brandy and then reached for the decanter to refill his glass. The clinking of crystal echoed through the stillness.

“You should go, Gaverton,” he muttered in a raw voice. He stared unseeingly at the flames dancing in the grate.

“What have you done?” Kenneth demanded, now standing over him with his fists on his hips.

Wilhelm froze as his gaze snapped up. His eyes, shadowed with exhaustion and regret, met Kenneth’s. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words caught in his throat.

Kenneth stepped closer and narrowed his eyes as he took in Wilhelm’s disheveled appearance.

“I saw her, you know,” he began, his voice gentle.

Wilhelm’s heart ached at the mention of Genevieve, and a wave of longing washed over him.

“You saw her?” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. “How is she?”

Kenneth’s expression became somber. “She is miserable,” he replied, shaking his head.

The room spun, and Wilhelm closed his eyes to block it out. He inhaled deeply to dispel the queasiness.

“She is miserable because of you,” Kenneth said, his voice heavy with worry. “Her eyes are vacant, and her voice is so frail and faint…” he trailed off.

Wilhelm’s chest tightened as the image of her haunted face flashed through his mind. He could still hear her melodic voice, so full of life, light, and curiosity, and knew that he had been destroyed her joyful nature.

The room spun around him, and he nearly choked on his spit. The thought of her reduced to a colorless, shadowy ghost of her former vivacious self… It wrecked him.

His selfishness had done this. He had torn her apart.

The ache in his chest grew sharper and twisted like a blade.

“I encountered her at a tea party,” Kenneth explained, his gaze meeting Wilhelm’s.

Wilhelm nodded, his gaze fixed on the swirling brandy in his glass. He could picture Genevieve, her eyes filled with sadness, her smile a distant memory.

Wilhelm’s breath hitched, and his heart filled with dread.

What did she say? Did she mention me? What I had done to her?

“She told me what happened,” Kenneth revealed, his eyes filled with sympathy.

Wilhelm closed his eyes, the weight of her words pressing down on him. He had hurt her, driven her away with his selfish actions.

He had lost her, and he did not believe he would ever forgive himself.

“It is your fault that she is in that sorry state,” he murmured.

Kenneth’s face twisted in surprise, his eyes widening. “What?”

“It is your fault,” Wilhelm spat, his eyes wild with fury as he turned to look at him.

Kenneth recoiled. “My fault?” he repeated, his voice cracking. “What? How is this my fault?”

Wilhelm’s gaze hardened, and he clenched his jaw. “You told her, did you not?” His voice cut through the air, sharp and accusing. “You told her what happened at White’s. That is how she knows.”

Kenneth’s eyes widened in shock.

“You think I would betray you like that?” he demanded, his voice rising. “How dare you accuse me of such a thing!”

Wilhelm’s eyes narrowed, his voice laced with suspicion. “Then how else would she know?” he demanded, his voice echoing through the room.

“So, this is what you are quarreling about?” Kenneth asked, his voice tight, his eyes darting about as he tried to piece together what was left unsaid.

The air between them thickened.

Wilhelm rose from his chair, the leather creaking beneath him. He moved towards Kenneth with slow, deliberate steps, his shoulders stiff with restraint. His eyes were cold, and they gleamed in the dim light.

“You should already know that,” he said, his voice low and sharp, his words laced with bitterness.

Kenneth furrowed his brow, and for a moment, the firelight flickered in his eyes, before his expression softened.

“Wilhelm,” he began, his tone gentler. “How much have you had to drink?”

The question hit Wilhelm like a slap, and cold, violent anger surged through him. His chest tightened, and his fingers curled into white-knuckled fists.

“You have the audacity to ask such a thing?” he hissed, his voice rising, trembling with fury. “I am in this wretched situation because of you!”

Kenneth stiffened, his tone shifting to one of calm dismissal.

“You are being paranoid,” he stated, shaking his head.

“Am I now?” Wilhelm’s voice was laced with sarcasm, low and menacing, as he took another step closer. “You are clever, Lord Gaverton. Too clever for your own good.” His eyes narrowed on Kenneth, the raw edge of distrust cutting through him like a blade. “I know what you are capable of.”

“You have gone mad with paranoia!” Kenneth’s chest heaved with the weight of his anger, but his eyes held a deep and raw hurt. “This is why you drive everyone away. You did this with Genevieve, and now you are doing it with me.”

He stood still, his anger fading into hurt and fear. “I have been your friend for years, Wilhelm. Your confidant. But you…” He stopped, his voice shaking slightly. “You are pushing away everyone who cares about you.”

Wilhelm’s gaze softened slightly, and doubt flickered in his eyes.

“You are pushing everyone away,” Kenneth repeated, his voice laced with concern. “You are stupidly ridding yourself of every person who cares about you. Look at what you have done to your wife!”

Wilhelm’s heart ached at his words, the realization of his actions hitting him with the force of a physical blow.

“I… I did not…” he stammered, his voice barely audible.

He called me his friend.

Kenneth’s words hit him like a blow. He had never allowed himself to think of Kenneth as anything more than an ally—someone he worked with or shared a drink with on occasion, but nothing more. Their relationship had always been transactional, based on mutual gain, and Wilhelm had purposely kept it that way.

But now, as the impact of Kenneth’s words struck him like a blow, realization dawned on him. The loyalty Kenneth had shown, the way he had stood by him through everything…

Kenneth had never given him any reason to question his loyalty. If he was being honest with himself, he had come to care for Kenneth in his own way.

Wilhelm recoiled as the thought crossed his mind. He did not allow himself the luxury of calling anyone a friend. He could not afford to be vulnerable. Not after everything that had happened with⁠—

His head snapped up as everything suddenly became clear to him.

Alfred.

His eyes met Kenneth’s, widening in surprise as another realization dawned on him.

“Kenneth,” Wilhelm began, his voice filled with regret. “Was Shelton present at the ball that Genevieve attended?”

Kenneth nodded, his brow furrowed with concern. “He was, indeed,” he confirmed, “But how is that relevant now? You need to win back your wife!”

Wilhelm closed his eyes as the missing pieces of the puzzle fell into place. Alfred had sought to ruin their relationship and drive Genevieve away from him.

And he had once again succeeded.

“Kenneth,” Wilhelm said before he swallowed thickly. “I… I owe you an apology. I misjudged you, doubted your loyalty. I am terribly sorry.”

Kenneth blinked in utter shock. “You are… sorry?”

“Yes, I am. I am sorry, my friend. You are right. About everything,” Wilhelm admitted, despite the uncomfortable sensation in his chest.

“Allow me to recapitulate. You, the great Duke of Ravenshire, are not only saying you are sorry, but you are also admitting you were wrong? And on top of that, you called me a friend?” Kenneth responded, his eyebrows raised.

Wilhelm clenched his jaw, but he nodded slowly. “Yes,” he hissed.

“Huh,” Kenneth breathed with a wide grin. “Me, a humble marquess, your friend?”

“Do not test my patience, Gaverton.”

“That isn’t very friendly of you, Your Grace,” Kenneth teased.

“Gaverton,” Wilhelm hissed in warning.

Kenneth chuckled. “All right, all right. It was a little jest, pardon me. My friend.” His voice grew warm at the end.

Somehow, that warmth managed to seep into Wilhelm.

Grown soft, haven’t we?

He could hear his father’s voice in his head. But he swiftly silenced it.

He was done listening to a dead man.

Besides, he had more pressing matters to attend to.

“Yes, yes,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a wife to fetch.”