Chapter 26

CHAPTER26

Xander held his breath, on tenterhooks, uncertain what would happen next. Would Tilly run to him, wrongly ignoring her husband and pleading with him again? Would she be furious to find Jarvis here after she had turned her back on him?

Please, do the right thing, Tilly. Listen to that heart of yours, the one that chose Jarvis in the first place.

Then, something happened that Xander had not possibly guessed. Tilly burst into tears. With great wrenching gasps, tears ran down her face as she stumbled toward her husband and son.

Wide-eyed, Xander watched, sitting perfectly still on the cart.

Tommy pulled himself out of his father’s grasp and ran to his mother. Tilly bent down and pulled him into her arms, carrying him high and embracing him tightly. She placed big kisses on the boy’s cheeks, made wet by her tears. The boy giggled and flung his arms around her, burying his face in her neck.

Slowly, Jarvis walked forward. It was as if he was approaching a wild animal, nervous about what the reception would be like.

Slowly, Tilly put her son down on the ground, though he still hugged her leg tight, and she placed a hand on his shoulder protectively.

“Tilly, love.” The way Jarvis had spoken, he had clearly called her this many times before. “It was the article, wasn’t it? I couldn’t read it, but there was something in it. Something that upset you.”

She continued to cry, great gasping breaths that strangled her very being.

“It said he had married, and in a flash, I saw what my life could have been like,” she said in a rush, moving toward her husband. “I don’t know what happened.” Her voice was high-pitched, panicked. “I saw what my life could have been like. The money, the security—all of it. But…” She stopped and looked down at her son. “I love you both so much.”

The words hovered in the air, unanswered for a second. For an awful breath, Xander thought Jarvis might refuse to take her back or be angry, but then he moved forward.

He took his wife into his arms, embracing her warmly, and kissed her on the forehead. Tilly fell into his arms, collapsing there as if she was a small child and not a woman at all.

“I love you, too,” Jarvis said warmly.

“Love you!” Tommy cried, and they both reached toward him, laughing warmly.

The tears continued, though, and Tilly kept wiping her cheeks, trying her best to stop them.

“What’s happening to me, Jarvis? Some days, it’s like I can’t control my own thoughts.”

“I don’t know.” He gently placed a hand on her cheek. “But we’ll figure it out. I promise you.”

Someone cleared their throat, and Xander looked around. It seemed he was not the only one to witness this private moment. In the doorway stood Malcolm, Elizabeth, and Anthony.

Slowly, Anthony walked away from the door, moving toward Xander in the cart. Malcolm and Elizabeth also stepped onto the drive, but they moved toward Tilly instead.

“Are you all right?” Anthony whispered to Xander, leaning on the edge of the cart.

Xander shrugged, unsure what to say or feel.

I miss Violet.

Yet, saying such words at this moment felt wrong. This moment was about the woman who had been missing for the last five years, the woman who clearly needed help.

“You’re an uncle, Anthony,” Xander said, trying to lighten the moment.

“That, I am.” Anthony smiled softly. “I’ll have to buy him lots of presents now. I’m not letting Tilly disappear again, even if she likes the idea of it.”

“Buy them food,” Xander urged. “They look too thin. The boy nearly ate up my whole kitchen.”

They both chuckled, but the humor didn’t last. It was desperation on both of their parts, to find lightness in such a somber moment.

“What’s wrong with her?” Xander asked.

“We do not know.” Anthony shook his head.

Before they could say any more between them, Malcolm and Elizabeth had reached the family.

“Tilly, please,” Elizabeth said tearfully. “Introduce me to my grandson and… to my son-in-law.” She bestowed a warm smile on Jarvis, who returned that smile.

“This is Tommy.” Tilly pushed her son forward. “Tommy, these are your grandparents. This is your grandfather and your grandmother.”

Malcolm said nothing. He stood there, doing a perfect imitation of a plank of wood, but Elizabeth easily made up for his lack of response. She dropped to her knees and reached toward the boy.

“Come here, Tommy. Give your grandmother a big hug. Let us hope it will be the first of many.”

Tommy looked at his father, waiting for reassurance. When Jarvis nodded, the boy flung himself into Elizabeth’s arms. Another tear of happiness slid down her cheek as she embraced the boy.

“Tilly, my dear.” Malcolm moved toward his daughter. “Can you explain what is going on to me, please? When you have such happiness as this”—He gestured between Tommy and Jarvis—“why go to Xander at all?”

“I… I don’t know,” Tilly stammered. “Everything’s been so confused, my life and what could have been my life. I suppose I thought I could take the other life. To see what it would be like. That doesn’t make sense, does it?” She hiccoughed in her tears, and Jarvis put his arm around her. “I’m not well, am I?” She addressed her last question to Jarvis, who looked panicked.

“My Lord, please, I do not want her to go to Bedlam. I took her to a doctor once, who suggested it, so I moved us before he could report us. I could not bear it—”

“Rest yourself, young man.” Malcolm held up a hand. “I would no more have my daughter in Bedlam than you would.” He stepped forward and placed that hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “Tilly, let me help you, please. Now that you are back in our lives, let me help.”

Tilly hesitated, wiping the tears on her cheeks with the back of her hand.

“I can get you the best doctors, I assure you of that. And I can help with the finances, too.”

“Please, My Lord—” Jarvis began, but once more, Malcolm held up a hand to him.

“It’s not a handout. I would not hurt your pride in that way,” he said softly, smiling a little. “It comes from love. A gift.” He looked at his daughter and then at Tommy. “Let me help, Tilly. Please.”

She nodded and moved forward, being embraced by her father.

Xander looked away. It now felt wrong to still be sitting here, watching the family together. This was their private moment, and he was in the way.

“I should go,” Xander said, picking up the reins again, but Anthony reached up and took his arm.

“Xander,” Anthony said in a deep and quiet voice. “Tilly kept asking me all morning over breakfast about you and Violet.”

“Now that she’s with her husband and son again, I don’t think she’ll be thinking any more about me.”

“No, that’s not what I mean.” Anthony shook her head. “She asked if you love your wife.”

Xander halted. He had never said the words.

He ran a hand over his face, feeling the stress of the moment, the pain.

“I told her that you do care about Violet.”

“What?” Xander dropped his hand and looked at his friend.

“Well, you do, don’t you?” Anthony asked with a smile. “She is the only woman who has managed to break through your walls all these years. I saw you smile around her plenty of times when I stayed at your house at your mother’s invitation. I saw your face when you married her, too. You may have tried to hide your expression, but I saw it, and I know you well enough to know what was in that look.”

Xander inhaled deeply. He felt his heart pounding in his chest. He was so pained. “She may not forgive me for this,” he whispered. “Anthony, your sister threatened Violet.”

Anthony’s jaw dropped, and he leaned against the cart, looking as if all his strength had left him.

“She threatened to poison her with that medicine she takes. I had to get Violet out of the house. I had to protect her, and I know Violet. She would have only left if she thought I wanted her to go.”

“Are you telling me you broke her heart in order to protect her?” Anthony shook his head. “Dark Duke, indeed, eh?”

Xander flinched at the words. It wasn’t quite an insult, just a plain fact, but he felt the truth of it. He had indeed done a dark thing. He’d driven his own wife away, the woman he did indeed love, just to protect her.

“I love her,” Xander whispered suddenly.

“Then for God’s sake.” Anthony stepped off the carriage. “Would you go and get your wife back already?”

“And you all? You will be all right now?” Xander asked, nodding at Anthony, Tilly, and the others.

“We’ll be fine,” Anthony assured him. “You’ve taken on the blame and responsibility for far too long. Now, go,” he urged again.

Xander nodded and flicked the reins of the horse, turning the cart and riding away. He glanced over his shoulder when he was partway down the driveway, looking at the woman he had once thought he would marry.

Tearfully, she was still holding onto the man she loved, Jarvis.

Momentarily, Xander saw in his mind’s eye the night that Tilly had walked out. She had just told him she was eloping with Jarvis and tucked the bag under her arm, then left through the door of his house.

Xander had watched through the window as Tilly and Jarvis met in the stable yard. They had come together, embracing tightly.

He had felt envy that night, pure jealousy that the feeling he had always sought would not be his. That love belonged to another—it belonged to Jarvis.

Yet, now, he smiled and turned to face ahead. He no longer felt jealous, for he didn’t want Tilly’s attention.

He wanted Violet’s love.

* * *

Xander rode madly through the streets, flicking the reins of the horse so wildly that more than one group of people had to jump out of his way.

“Who is that?” a voice cried, the words reaching his ears.

“It’s the Dark Duke. You know, the Duke of Barlow!”

“What’s he doing? Is he trying to kill us all!?” someone screeched hysterically.

Xander laughed under his breath at the words and turned the cart once again. He shot through one of the busiest parts of London, through Covent Garden, but he didn’t slow his speed.

It was the fastest way to get to Violet, and now that she was safe, now that Tilly had at least come to her senses a little, Xander could go and throw himself at Violet’s feet.

It’s time to come home, Vi. If you’ll have me.

He turned the carriage sharply past the piazza building and through narrow lanes. He shot through the open gates of Violet’s house, set far back from the street, and darted down the track lane which led to the door.

He brought the carriage to a sharp halt outside of Violet’s house, making the wheels crunch against the gravel, with some of the stones flying into the air.

He leapt down from the cart, with the horse still whinnying loudly and complaining. He comforted the horse for a moment, patting his nose, and then turned to the house.

Was that her?

He saw someone move behind the window. He saw her figure, he was sure of it!

Running up the front stairs, he reached for the knocker on the door and lifted it. Even before he had had a chance to drop it and knock, the door was flung open.

Staring back at him was not Violet but her sister, Celia. Never had he seen the lady looking so furious. Her face was almost as red as her hair, her eyes flashing in anger.

“Leave,” she demanded, her tone cool and low.

“I need to speak to Violet. Please, let me in to see her. I can explain everything—”

“She does not need an explanation from you. You made yourself quite plain before.”

“Now, listen,” he said, adopting the darkest tone he could. “You will let me in to see my wife.”

Celia folded her arms and lifted a single eyebrow, reminding him so much of Violet that it was a shock to his system.

“You may think that being threatening will get you what you want, Your Grace, but those days are over. The Dark Duke is but an idea, is he not? Made of shadow.”

“Shadow? You taking over your sister’s role as a writer?”

“She has often described you as that in her writing—as shadows,” she said quietly. “How true it was, just as thin and made of nothing. No substance to your heart at all.”

His jaw dropped. Was that what Violet had meant when she first described him as a shadow? Surely not! Did she not say that he had her heart if he wanted it?

“Let me see her. Celia, please. Let me see her.”

“Not a chance.” Celia shut the door in his face.

* * *

“Violet! Violet!” The name was being bellowed repeatedly outside the house.

Violet sat very still in her seat. With her hands over her ears, she tried to block out Xander’s shouts, though it did little good. His voice was so loud that she could still hear it, along with his heavy knocks on the door.

“Well, he’s persistent,” Eleanor said from her seat across the parlor. “I’ll give him that.”

“I’m not praising him for anything,” Grace scoffed. She went to pour the tea, blowing a loose lock of hair out of her eyes, but managed to slip with the teapot.

Diana hurried to help mop up the tea as Grace apologized for the spill.

Violet chewed her lip, staring at the spilt tea, feeling as if there was something symbolic about what had happened. No matter what they did, the tea had still been spilled, the tablecloth still stained. It was just like her argument with Xander. No matter what he had come to say to her now, it could not be undone.

“How long has he been out there?” Violet asked, eventually.

“Too long!” Eleanor declared comically.

“Agreed,” Celia said from the doorway, marching back into the room. “All will be well, though. I have sent a footman out of the back door to fetch the constable. They will remove him if he does not leave soon.”

Then, the knocking abruptly stopped. Violet hurried to her feet.

“Where on earth are you going? I hope you are not going to see him. That would be madness,” Celia said, flinging herself down into another chair and managing to knock the table so that Grace spilled the tea again.

“Oops,” Grace murmured.

But Violet was no longer paying attention. She flung herself at the nearest window, pressing her face to the glass as she looked down at the driveway, where Xander now stood talking to a constable.

Xander was always calm and cold, even when angry. Rarely had she seen him show an outburst, and usually it was when they were alone, such as their argument about her having to leave, or their argument when she had told him that she was the writer of the Dark Duke.

Now, he was wild in manner. He marched up and down the driveway as he spoke to the constable, waving at the house. He’d pushed his hands into his dark hair so many times that it would not lay flat but it was stuck up at various angles.

The constable pointed back at the road, and that seemed to put an end to the matter.

Xander walked back to the cart and pulled himself up into the driver’s seat. Violet’s lips parted.

“Why is he driving a cart? Where’s his carriage?”

Yet, she got no answer to her questions, even as her friends moved to stand beside her, peering out at him to watch him go.

Xander flicked the reins and left, but not before she had a chance to see his expression. Those blue eyes were cold once again as he glared at the constable.

“A man of shadows,” Celia whispered from behind her. “Just as cold and as thin. Made of nothing.”

Violet flinched. It was not what she had meant when she had first described Xander as a shadow. She’d known him to show warmth and plenty of passion. The last time they had been together, they had both cried out in pleasure, and she had almost told him then just what he meant to her.

If only I could have that moment back again. But it’s gone. It’s gone for good.

“I wonder where she is now,” Violet whispered.

“Who?” Diana asked beside her.

“Lady Tilly. I wonder if he will do as she asked. Maybe he came to tell me he intends to annul the marriage, after all. Maybe he wants to marry her instead.”

“Girls?” Celia called to all of them. “Do me a favor and throw all those dares I gave you away. If they are as dangerous as the one I gave Violet, then I may inadvertently break all of your hearts.”

Violet wished to tell her sister it was not her doing, but she couldn’t use her voice out of fear of crying again as she watched the cart disappear.