Chapter 31

How inconsiderate of the sun to go on shining when my world has just fallen apart!

Alice could not resist regarding that obnoxiously radiant celestial body with a great deal of vexation as she strode past the immaculately trimmed bushes of the gardens of Fitzroy Hall with Scarlett and Phoebe. The sun had been shining gloriously, so both young ladies had been eager to draw out their parasols for a promenade on the grounds, oblivious to the dark clouds that hovered over their companion.

They both chatted merrily, excitedly discussing the previous events of the house party and looking forward to whatever challenges the Dowager Countess might have in store for them.

"I daresay that Lady Wellington might not be given to simply arranging for some boring card games," Scarlett declared emphatically. "Perhaps an archery contest might be more her style—one with higher stakes."

"Higher stakes? Like what?" Phoebe murmured, wrinkling her nose wryly. "I do not reckon that I would be keen enough to put my own dignity at stake."

The redhead laughed gaily, and the sun glinting off her vivid red locks was particularly harsh on Alice's eyes.

"Oh, what could be more fun than that?" She nudged Phoebe with a mischievous grin. "You must promise to participate, or it will ruin everyone else's fun if you insist on being a bore."

Phoebe merely let out a delicate shudder. "I fear the wrath of my mama more than the scorn of my fellows. She would never forgive me if I made a fool of myself before the other guests…"

As she trailed off, Alice caught the slight blush that rose in her sister's cheeks, the slight softening of her gaze. All of that was lost on her, however, as she continued to trudge along lifelessly. Her reticence was not lost on her two companions, however, and eventually, they both turned to her in concern.

"Upon my word, dearest, you have been so sullen and quiet ever since we left the manor." Scarlett sighed dramatically. "Is something amiss? A lovers' spat with the Duke of Thorns, perhaps?"

Alice wanted to laugh at the hilarity of her friend's words.

What lovers' spat? Where is the love that he or I may spit on?

Phoebe looked at her with no less concern. "Did he hurt you, Alice?" she asked, her voice quaking. "He looked quite livid last night?—"

"No, no, nothing like that." Alice shook her head.

Her younger sister had the tendency to ruminate endlessly on some things, and it was only kind—merciful even—to cut that train of thought before it could start hurtling through her mind.

"Then, what is it, dearest?" Scarlett inquired gently. "And fear not—if it was the Duke of Thorns at fault, Phoebe and I shall not let him off easily. We shall avenge you in such a way that he will never dream of hurting you again!"

Alice smiled weakly at both of them. She reached out to clasp her sister's hand in hers and managed to give it a reassuring squeeze.

"Both of you are so wonderful right now, but it truly is nothing so earth-shattering as you make it seem," she said, nearly choking in the end.

Truthfully speaking, it felt as if her world ended just last night, but she had to keep a brave smile on so that nobody would ever find out how broken she was inside.

"The Duke and I…" she trailed off with a sigh. "Well, His Grace and I simply are not fated to be together, it would seem. We simply do not suit each other, and I have decided to call off our betrothal." She sucked in a deep breath and then finished, "And that is that, I suppose."

Both young women were quiet for a while, and Alice felt as if she had lost all strength in her legs. If it had not been for Scarlett putting her arm around her and letting her lean into her, Alice feared she might have toppled over into a disgraceful heap on the grass.

"Well, it was a farce, to begin with," Scarlett said softly. "With a beautiful possibility, I suppose, but a farce nonetheless."

"Yes, it was nothing more than that," Alice muttered bitterly.

Scarlett smiled at her. "On the bright side, however, there are a great many gentlemen who have grown curious about you ever since the announcement of your betrothal. They would be very much pleased to know that it has been called off."

Phoebe wrinkled her nose delicately at that. "Men are such contradictory creatures. Why can they simply not make up their minds about something? And they have the audacity to call women indecisive!"

Alice smiled at her sister's indignation, a clear sign of where her loyalties lay.

"In any case, it has been decided," she told her companions.

She looked across the gardens to where the Marquess and Marchioness of Brandon, along with the Dowager Countess and the other older guests, were enjoying the fresh air. They had thought her papa too weak to make the journey to Fitzroy Hall, but nonetheless, he came to show support for Alice and her betrothed. It had only been a day, and the Marquess looked to be in excellent spirits, his face regaining some of the color it once had.

Alice would have liked to think that it was the fresh air that did wonders for her father's health, but she knew better—her engagement to Colin and the stability marriage would provide her had significantly lessened the burdens her papa carried. If there was anyone else who would be affected more by her withdrawal, it would be her dear papa.

"I just wish I could have done more for Papa," she told them regretfully. "He has been looking forward to my marriage, and now I fear I must let him down once more."

She hung her head, her shoulders drooping as she considered the impact her breaking off the betrothal would have on her papa. She smiled self-mockingly when she recalled how she had entered into the agreement with Colin—no, the Duke of Blackthorn—thinking to buy herself time from her papa's planned engagement.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to find her younger sister smiling at her in reassurance.

"You need not worry overmuch about Mama and Papa," Phoebe told her softly. "Above all, they love you dearly. They will understand. Papa is not one who will sacrifice your lifelong happiness for anything."

"Thank you, Phoebe. That… that means a lot to me," Alice said hoarsely, managing a teary smile for her sister.

She had been so impulsive, then, and so worryingly naive. Her father had only wanted to secure her future before his health ultimately failed and some distant cousin swooped in to inherit his title and estates. She should have known better.

It was truly funny how things looked clearer in retrospect, but she could no longer find the humor to laugh along.

* * *

If there is a hell, then I am certainly in it.

Colin squinted—no, glowered—against the fierce morning sunlight that spilled through the windows of his study. It was the last day of the house party, and tomorrow morning, their guests would be leaving for London.

"Good riddance," he muttered to himself, although when he thought of a certain young lady with deep brown hair and wide green eyes framed with thick lashes, he felt a hollowness within him that not even a sleepless night and copious amounts of liquor could vanquish.

Alice Barkley was everything he ever wanted—and more. She had roused in him what he had long thought was dead, what he had long thought he had destroyed. Now, he had to set her free before he truly and thoroughly pulled her with him into his darkness and destroyed her.

Suddenly, the door to his study swung open, and he turned around to find Ethan, Daniel, and Hudson filing in. Ethan, especially, looked as if he was looking forward to seeing the miserable state Colin had sunk into. Hudson just watched him coldly with a knowing look in his dark eyes, his lips pressed into a grim line.

"We thought we might find you here." Ethan grinned affably. "After all, where else should you be on this fine, sunny day?"

"Far from all human interaction, but now I can see that is impossible."

A smile flashed across Daniel's normally composed features. "Glad to see that you still regard us as humans, Thorn."

Colin winced at the old nickname they had for him. A long time ago, he had worn it like a badge, back when he was a foolish youth. The years had taught him better, and that boy who slept his way across the brothels of Europe on his Grand Tour was nowhere to be found. In his place stood the hollowed-out skeleton of the young man he had once been.

After last night, it seemed that he had aged a decade. Colin would find it a boon if it took half of his lifespan with it, as he had no intention of living to a ripe, old age with the burden he now carried.

"The darling Dowager Countess has arranged for an archery contest this afternoon amongst the young ladies," Ethan announced. "Since you have announced that you will not be participating, and with Lady Alice moping around like a forlorn little thing, tongues will start to wag."

Hudson snorted as he folded his arms across his chest. "After your fine display of temper last night and your absence at the breakfast hall this morning, it would be unbelievable if they had not started wagging already."

Colin shrugged his shoulders in a show of nonchalance, forcing himself to turn away from the window and the sight of a certain young lady promenading in the gardens below.

"It was just a night," he muttered. "I do not see why you should all make such a big deal out of it."

"Who says we are here to make a big deal out of it?" Daniel grinned and held up a bottle of brandy. "We, of course, came here to offer our support."

"Well, I have no need of it."

"We shall drink to it, then!" Ethan happily declared, bringing out four glasses. "After last night, you should be a free man once more!"

The words stung, but Colin smiled as he accepted a glass from his friend, briefly admiring the deep amber liquid in it. If he spilled it on his bed, he wondered if it would look the same as Alice's locks spread across his pillow. Even now, the mere recollection of it sent a bolt of lust through him.

Cursing himself, he tipped his head back and downed the whole glass. Perhaps there would never be another woman who would affect him the way she did. Deep down, he knew that there would never be another one like her.

She would be the only one, and he was doing her a great service by letting her go. She might hate him for it, but she would realize, sooner or later, that this was for the best.

He would never make a good husband—not the kind she deserved in any case.

"Hey!" Ethan protested. "Were we not supposed to toast or something?"

"Drinking directly is also good enough."

Colin grinned at the most stoic member of their group. "Exactly!"

As he drank, the liquor burned a path down his throat. He wished it would burn away that beating organ in his chest as well.

Because even if he pretended that it meant nothing, even if he shouted from the rooftops that none of it mattered, it all did.

In the stillness of his thoughts, he could still hear her, feel her. He would always see the hurt in her eyes and the tears she dared not spill before him.

She would always be the only woman who mattered to him, the only one he would ever allow into his heart.

Even if he could not have her stay by his side forever, he would always hold her right there where losing her hurt the most.