Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-Four

" I s Her Grace home?" James asked the moment he walked into his townhouse that evening. "I must speak with her at once!"

"She is home, Your Grace," his butler said, unable to disguise the look of surprise on his face at the beaming smile on his master's face.

James was not prone to smiling like a happy fool when he got home, ever. Most of his servants feared him, he'd heard, as they all read the scandal sheets and believed him to be devilish.

"Well then, tell her to meet me in my study! And hurry! This is of the utmost importance!"

"Yes, Your Grace…"

The butler looked confused but a little pleased nonetheless as he turned on his heels and disappeared up the stairs. James, meanwhile, whistled as he walked to his study and poured himself a finger of whiskey. Then he thought better of it and put the glass back on the side table.

I want to be sober for this conversation .

A thrill went through him, like an electric shock, and his heart began to pound.

This conversation is going to change my whole life. I can already feel it!

He was restless and nervous, and he had started to sweat. His nerves were getting to him. He removed his jacket so that he was just in his waistcoat and shirtsleeves, and then sat behind his desk. This proved too stationary, though, and soon he was back on his feet, pacing back and forth, a million questions racing through his mind.

What if she doesn't believe me? What if she says it's too late? Or what if, worst of all, she has changed her mind and doesn't want a real marriage anymore?

But he had to push these thoughts away. This was just his fear of rejection talking if Nathan could be believed.

Nathan had said to wait until after the ‘romantic dinner' to talk to Violet, but as James paced anxiously around the study, he knew he couldn't wait.

"I need to tell her now," he said out loud to the room.

After weeks of not telling her, of letting her slip away, he suddenly felt such a strong sense of urgency that he couldn't even wait for a few more hours.

"I have to tell her before it's too late."

His words echoed Nathan's, and they only strengthened his resolve.

At last, after what felt like an hour, a knock sounded at the door.

"Come in," he said. But his voice came out higher and more nervous-sounding than he would have liked, so he cleared his throat and tried again. "Come in."

Much better. Much deeper and more authoritative.

James rolled his eyes at himself.

Why are you so nervous?!

The door to the study opened, and Violet appeared in the doorway. To his surprise, she was dressed for traveling, not for dinner. She had rawhide kid gloves on and a cloak around her shoulders. Her hair had also been pinned up into a tight braid as if to keep it from becoming tangled on the journey.

She still looked lovely, though, as she always did. And perhaps more so than ever, because as he gazed at her now, he finally allowed himself to feel all of the emotions he had always suppressed around her.

"You wanted to see me, Your Grace?" she asked.

He frowned slightly at the honorific. "Violet," he said. "Please, come in. Sit down."

She hesitated, then walked further into the study, closing the door behind her. She had a briefcase with her, he was surprised to see, and as she put it on his desk, he noticed that her hands were shaking.

"Are you all right?" he asked, stepping closer to her.

He wondered for a moment if it would be all right to take her hands, but then decided he didn't care.

Her eyes widened as he took her hands in his, and he held them close to his chest. "Did you get my flowers this morning? And the note?"

"Y-yes," she stammered.

He found himself frowning again at how different she seemed from last night.

"Thank you very much. For both. The note soothed my mind a bit after I read the scandal sheets."

"They weren't very kind to us, were they?" he said, laughing at the memory of what he'd read this morning. His smile faded, however, when he saw the somber expression on her face. "Did it not amuse you? Are you worried about what people will say?"

"I admit I do not like being the center of attention," she said. "Especially for behaving so improperly. I fear it will reflect poorly on my sisters." She swallowed. "And on me."

"I admire you for not seeking out the limelight," he admitted, squeezing her hands gently. "And that you always put other people first. But fear not, you are a duchess. And one night of scandal will not ruin your reputation. The scandal sheets like to make a big to-do about things so that they can increase sales. Everyone will have forgotten about our tiff within a week. And your sisters will not face any consequences. I'm sure Mr. Cain will not stop calling on your sister over this?"

He winked at her, but to his surprise, her face suddenly hardened, and then a shadow of fear crossed it.

"Are you sure you're all right?" he asked again as he led her over to the chair in front of his desk. "Please, sit down. You do not look well at all."

She sat, releasing his hands in the process, and he moved around the desk and sat down across from her.

"Tell me what's wrong," he coaxed, folding his hands on the desk. "And then I will help you fix it. Do you want me to threaten to sue the publisher? I will. Or I can talk to the editor and get the author fired. You're married to a very powerful man, Violet, and there isn't much I wouldn't do for you."

He smiled at her. This was the moment! This was the perfect moment to tell her that he wanted to try with her—that he wanted them to have a real marriage.

He opened his mouth to say the words, but she cut him off.

"James, there's something I need to say to you," she began. Her voice was very quiet, and her expression was closed off. "I have thought about it, and I can no longer accept the kind of marriage you are offering me. I would like to proceed with an annulment."

Violet wasn't quite sure how she had gotten the words out of her mouth. They were the most difficult that she had ever spoken, and as she stared steadily across the desk at her husband, she saw the instantaneous and devastating effect they had on him.

James's smile dropped, turning into one of agony.

"What are you saying?" he asked, his voice suddenly as cold as ice.

She closed her eyes briefly and then opened them again. The pain in her chest was so strong that she thought it might crack open.

"I've thought about it," she repeated. "And I cannot agree to your terms. Perhaps if I had known from the beginning, I would have been able to set different expectations, but I know now that I cannot live like this."

"But—we were going to talk this evening," he sputtered, struggling to understand what had changed. "We were going to try and move forward."

Convince him, Violet! You need to be more convincing if you are going to save your sister from Mr. Cain and your father.

"I appreciate that you wanted to talk tonight," she forced herself to say, "but I know you won't change your mind. At least, you won't change it quickly enough or thoroughly enough. You have had weeks to try and forge a real marriage with me, but you haven't."

"But I can change my mind!" James blurted out. Violet wanted to sob at those words. "At least, I was considering it… I spoke today with Nathan and…" he trailed off, looking away.

Violet desperately wanted to ask what he had discussed with Nathan. Was he serious? Was he really considering changing his mind about their relationship?

Either way, it was too late. Her father's men were waiting outside in the carriage. If she didn't do this, they would kidnap Rosalie.

"You are only saying that now that you can't have me," she whispered.

His eyes snapped back to hers. For a moment, they shone with anger, but then they dimmed with sadness and anger again.

"And it's too late, James."

His name was so difficult to say. She wanted to scream at him, Don't believe me! Fight for me! While at the same time, she was terrified that he would fight for her. And then what would happen?

"I never knew how much I wanted to be a wife and a mother," she continued.

As she said the words out loud, she realized, with a hollow heart, that they were true.

She blinked, sat up straighter, and looked him right in the eyes. "My childhood was difficult enough, and I assumed I would marry an awful man of my father's choosing." The irony of this was not lost on her, and tears welled up in her eyes. "I didn't know how much I wanted to be a mother. But now, I know that it is what I want more than anything."

I'm only saying this so that he'll agree to the annulment, but it's all true. I'm telling the truth by lying.

Why hadn't she realized this earlier? Why hadn't she insisted on it from the beginning? Maybe things would have been different if she had been honest with him sooner.

But she hadn't known what was truly in her heart until this moment.

"You're crying," he noted, his voice hollow.

He blinked, then took a kerchief out of his waistcoat pocket and handed it to her.

"I care about you very much," she croaked. Even though she knew it was dangerous to say, she couldn't help it. "And I would have liked to have a real marriage and a family with you. But I realize now that it isn't possible. Even if you said you changed your mind today, I wouldn't have believed you. What would stop you from changing your mind again in a few days? Or months? Or even years? And by then, it would be too late for me to get an annulment."

James's expression had become stoney. And even as the words left her lips, all she wanted was for him to ignore everything she was saying, to leap across the desk and tell her, No, you are my wife, and we will work this out! I will be a real husband to you, and we will have many children!

But the look on his face told her everything she needed to know: he was not going to fight for her because he knew she was right.

He didn't want a real relationship.

He didn't want children.

He didn't love her or want to make their marriage work.

And he didn't trust himself not to change his mind again and devastate her.

"You have to let me go while there is still a possibility that I'll find what I want," she said, and the words hurt like a physical blow.

What will he think when he finds out I'm married to Redfield in a few weeks? Will he think I chose Redfield over him? Or will he suspect my father was behind it?

"It sounds as if you have made up your mind," he uttered coldly. His whole body was rigid, and there a vein in his temple was throbbing.

"Yes," she whispered.

No! her brain and body screamed.

"Then there is nothing that I can do to dissuade you," he said. It wasn't a question.

"No," she murmured, lowering her eyes.

Yes! Fight for me! Tell me you know my feelings couldn't have changed this quickly! Tell me you suspect my father is behind this! Tell me we will figure a way out of this together!

He nodded. "Well then, I shall speak to my solicitor and have him draw up the papers for an annulment."

Even though it was what she had asked for, and what she wanted, the words landed heavily.

"There is no need," she murmured. Leaning forward, she opened the briefcase and pulled out the annulment papers her father had given to her earlier. "I took the liberty of consulting a solicitor today."

"Are you serious?" For the first time that day, James glared at her. "I have spent all day thinking of giving our marriage a chance, and you went to a solicitor?"

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "but I had to act. I cannot continue to live this way."

"How did you even know where to find a solicitor?"

"I asked my mother. She has engaged in enough legal warfare with my father to know many things."

"And that's the other thing!" James snapped. "Your father! The whole reason you wanted this marriage was so that you could be safe from him. And now you're going to annul our marriage and be at his mercy? I can't allow that, Violet. Where will you go then? Who will protect you?"

"I have already thought of that," she said at once. "Iris has written to me, and she and the Duke of Eavestone are arriving home tonight. I will go and stay with them."

It was a lie, and James would surely find out very quickly, but it would buy her enough time to marry Lord Redfield and neutralize her father's threat.

"Well, you've had this very carefully planned out, haven't you?" James muttered, bitterness lacing his voice. Then he tensed up and stared at her unblinkingly. " Have you been planning this for a while?"

"N-no!" she stammered.

"So you found a solicitor and had documents drawn up, and found a place to stay, all in one day?" It was clear from his tone that he didn't believe her. "I must say, Violet, I am disappointed. I believed what you told me the other night, that you regretted threatening me with an annulment and that you wanted to work on this with me. Now, to discover that you lied and saw a solicitor behind my back?—"

"No, James, I promise it wasn't like that!" she exclaimed, but she knew there was no way to convince him otherwise. If she were in his place, she wouldn't believe herself either.

James was shaking his head. "I suppose it is only logical. You were trying to wear me down into agreeing to the kind of marriage you wanted, but just in case, you built yourself an exit strategy. How very crafty, Violet. How very much like your father."

Anger erupted in Violet's chest. She stared at him, her mouth slightly agape. She couldn't believe he had just said those words to her. After everything she had told him about her fears of being similar to her father, he threw it in her face.

She sat up straight and shot him the coldest, iciest glare possible. "I think it's best if we stop speaking about this and you sign the papers," she snapped. "After all, you got everything you wanted—a cold, emotionless marriage that allowed you to inherit the money your father withheld. And since ours was a marriage of convenience only, I don't think you'll have any trouble replacing me with someone else."

James's eyes narrowed, and for a moment, she thought he was going to yell at her.

Good! Show some emotions! Show me how sorry you are to have pushed me away!

But he didn't yell.

"Give me the document," he muttered, holding out his hand.

With shaking hands, she passed it to him. He looked down at it for what felt like a whole minute, then swallowed, reached for his quill, and scratched his signature on the bottom right corner.

"There you go," he huffed, sliding the papers back to her. "You got your wish. Now take that and go. I expect you to be out of my house by evening."

Violet's fingers were cold and clammy as she reached forward and grabbed the papers. Not even looking at James, she shoved them back into the briefcase and stood up. Her legs shook as she walked to the door, and when her hand was on the handle, she paused, half expecting him to shout at her to wait, to chase after her, to fall down to his knees and beg her to stay.

But he didn't. He said nothing as she turned the handle, stepped into the hall, and closed the door behind her.