Chapter 32

32

Outside in thecool night air, Thorne’s words thundered through Richard’s head, a dark desperation clawing through him. His heart cracked and bled.

As he walked down the grand stairs, the crowd spilled after him, forming a large circle.

Jane, too. His whole family.

Royal guards lay unconscious on the stairs and on the gravel path. Richard noticed they breathed, and a few moaned softly.

“Mr. Blackmore, do you understand you could be charged for this?” growled the prince, standing at the top of the stairs and looking over his guards.

“I do,” said Thorne, who was in the middle of the gravel path, and he turned around to face the prince with a cold, unyielding expression. “Charge me if you will, Your Grace. Nothing will stop me from taking my sister home.”

The prince stared at him in helpless fury.

“However,” said Thorne, his hard eyes unwavering, “if I am charged and unable to run my business, many of my clients would miss the unique services of my establishment.”

The prince’s face smoothed in understanding, and he gave a barely perceptible nod.

Gravel rustled under the feet of the hundreds of ladies and gentlemen who had been present in the ballroom and were now gathered outside in the dark night, illuminated by the fire torches and braziers and gas lamps.

Wind brushed against Richard’s heated face—the scent of roses and the distant reek of horse manure, no doubt from all the carriages that had been parked along the streets and behind Carlton House.

He had known it was all too good to be true.

“It’s not a no,” she had just said as he held her, precious and beautiful, in his arms, filling him with happiness and light. He had felt the cracks in his heart grow back together, had felt his heart growing stronger and beating with hope.

A lifetime of happiness with his Jane had been at his fingertips.

And now it was slipping away once again.

As people stared at him and talked with curious, judging faces, Thorne Blackmore came closer to him with every step, his eyes dark and furious. The gravel crunched under his boots like bones. His men followed him a few steps behind, loyal and cautious. He recognized Reuben and Atticus and other men who he’d seen with them and in Elysium.

Jane’s gorgeous gown flapped in the wind as she ran after her brother. She caught Thorne by the arm. “Thorne, please, leave it alone!”

Janie was so pretty. Still his. At this moment, still his. Richard didn’t move a digit, trying to stretch out the moment forever.

The prince regent had, apparently, gotten over his unconscious guards and now stood among the crowd of well-dressed guests, staring at Richard with wide, inquiring eyes, a smile of enjoyment on his face. No doubt the man loved a juicy scandal, watching two lives being shattered right in front of him.

This would certainly be in all the society papers tomorrow.

Thorne stepped up close to Richard, the man’s cologne sharp and spicy, and softly spoke right next to his ear so that no one else heard. “Sir, you dishonored my sister. I know what you did in her bedchamber last night.”

Richard swallowed. “How did you find out?”

“Does not matter how, Lord Richard. What matters is,” Thorne said through gritted teeth, his words at the edge of a feral growl, “you are the snake I let into my house with my own words. You took my sister’s honor. My only sister. The only family that I have left.”

Richard opened his mouth to say she was as dear to him as to Thorne, but Thorne’s black gaze glinted in the darkness with the reflection of the garden torches as he grabbed Richard by his lapels.

A combined gasp carried through the crowd around them.

“Shut up, you scoundrel,” spat Thorne. “I trusted the most precious person in my dark, miserable life to you. I knew you were a rake, but I thought you cared enough about your brother’s fate to be a gentleman with my sister. It was my fault more than yours, and more than hers.”

“Blackmore—”

“She was the purest, most beautiful creature that ever walked this earth, and I was given the honor of protecting her and caring for her. And I failed.” Thorne’s face distorted in pain. He shook Richard so violently, his teeth chattered. “You took her and desecrated her with your vile, dirty fingers.”

“But I want to marry her—”

Pure venom seeped through Thorne’s gaze. “Do you think I would trust her to a man like you? You do not deserve to breathe the same air. You do not get to throw another glance at her.”

Richard’s eyes darted to Jane, who stood a few steps away from them and couldn’t have heard anything. Good. However, her face was a mask of worry, her large eyes behind her glasses darting between him and Thorne. The last thing he wanted was to worry her.

“Thorne!” she cried, and gravel whispered under her feet as she hurried towards them. “Thorne, let him go!”

“The one last thing you’re worthy of is to pay for what you did,” Thorne growled quietly into Richard’s face.

A drop of cold, icy sweat rolled down Richard’s spine.

Jane was now three steps away, her arm outstretched towards her brother, her eyes wide with horror. “Thorne!”

“Expect my man tomorrow morning with the time and the place,” finished Thorne very, very quietly.

“Thorne!” cried Jane, who was now right next to them.

The very moment she laid her hand on his shoulder, Thorne released Richard, and he staggered backward.

A duel.

Richard could feel a lump in his throat, and as Thorne let go of his lapels and stepped away, the dark eyes of his adversary fixed on him like the muzzles of two pistols.

He couldn’t let Jane hear about this. He felt the righteousness of Thorne’s every word deep in his bones. He should have never touched her, should have waited, should have convinced her in other ways to say yes to him. He deserved every drop of Thorne’s wrath and more.

Richard nodded curtly. “Let it be so, sir.”

“What?” asked Jane, looking between them. “Let what be so? What did you say to him, Thorne?”

But Thorne’s eyes never left Richard.

Tomorrow, Richard would either be dead, or, if the authorities caught them, taken to prison. Unlike Preston, Richard didn’t possess a title and, therefore, could face the strictest consequences.

Thorne nodded back to him, all grace and cold fury, and turned to Jane. “Come on, sister. You were right, after all. You do not belong here.”

But she did, Richard wanted to say. Thorne was so wrong. She belonged with him. She belonged anywhere she wished to.

As Richard watched the two of them turn around and walk away from him and towards Thorne’s entourage, his heart bled. He should stop her, stop Thorne…but Thorne had made it very clear.

Richard had spoiled her. He had no claim on her.

Whispers went around the crowd as Jane, Thorne, and his men walked down the wide gravel carriage path and towards the large iron gate, behind which several carriages waited for them.

Calliope tugged at his arm. “Richard! What are you doing? Go and fight for her. She told me she loves you.”

Shock hit him like a slap. He blinked. “She did?”

He watched Jane’s silvery silky figure walk farther and farther away from him.

She loved him… Wasn’t that exactly what he craved to hear? Exactly what he wished she’d said to him?

And the farther her graceful back moved away from him and into the distance, the more his heart froze with fear. He’d been so close to happiness. But now exactly what he’d feared was happening.

It’s not a no.

And yet, it wasn’t a yes, either.

But he was back again in that garden five years ago. In the same summery darkness, surrounded by the scent of roses. Seeing Lady Charity in the arms of another man.

His chest felt so tight, it may as well have been crushed by two carriages.

He looked around. Illuminated by the lanterns and braziers, everyone stared at him, whispering, talking behind their fans.

Jane reached the large wrought iron gates, and as she was about to turn the corner and disappear into the dark street beyond, she turned to him and their eyes met.

Calliope shook him by the shoulder. “Richard! Go to her! Stop her! Fight for her!”

And he ran towards her, his feet eating the gravel under them. “Stop!” he cried. “Stop, Jane!”

Thorne and the three men, who were dressed like gentlemen, turned to Richard, their expressions murderous.

Jane was breathing hard, her gloved hand clutching her throat. Richard stopped before them, and as Thorne blocked his way protectively, Richard’s gaze never left Jane’s.

“I love you, Jane,” Richard said. Her eyes widened and blinked, her mouth opening as she gasped softly. “Please, do not leave. Our wedding is in four days. Show up there. Marry me. I love you, and I will spend the rest of my days trying to make you the happiest woman alive. It was not a no, remember? Make it a yes, Jane. Please, make it a yes.”

The silence that fell on the garden was so absolute, he could hear the soft snorting of a horse, the crackling of the garden fires behind him. He counted his heartbeats, the time between them stretching into lifetimes.

Her gaze softened and grew wet behind her spectacles. He thought he saw the glimpse of a yes in her eyes. The glimpse of their combined forever.

And then her eyes darted towards Thorne, and that forever died. She took the spectacles he had had made for her and handed them to him.

“The answer is no, Lord Richard,” she said firmly.

Struck dumb, Richard took them from her hand.

She turned around and walked towards the carriage. One of the identical twins helped her climb up, and the darkness swallowed her.

Iron claws of loss dug into Richard’s heart, deeper and deeper. He couldn’t move, couldn’t lift a finger, his legs as heavy as granite slabs.

This was final. The confirmation that he couldn’t be himself. Couldn’t be a man worthy of a woman’s love. A man who didn’t need to wear masks and appear to be someone he was not.

A man brave enough to get hurt over and over again if that was the price for being himself.

He stood, breathing hard, as Thorne’s men mounted their horses or climbed into the multiple carriages, and took her with them forever. Trying to find the courage to move, he turned towards Carlton House, watching numbly as the crowd slowly dissipated.

Unlike with Lady Charity, when his heart had been broken and shattered, this time it felt stone-cold dead.

* * *

The carriage swayed and rattled against the street on their way back to Whitechapel. Thorne’s face was somber in the semidarkness of the rich interior, illuminated only by the swaying lamp over their heads.

Jane’s heart was in pieces. But it was all worth it, as long as Thorne didn’t harm Richard. Two broken hearts were better than one coffin.

Thorne pointedly looked out of the window, and Jane knew his stoic face was nothing but a mask. Cold fury raged behind his dark eyes. A battle was being fought in his soul.

She now had to fight her own battle with him.

“Thorne,” she said as she leaned forward. “Brother.”

He looked at her.

“Be angry with me,” she said. “It was as much my fault as his.”

“No, sister,” he said. “You’re wrong. The fault is mine.”

Her heart broke all over again at that. She was the one deceiving him, going behind his back, letting Richard get valuable information and then never telling her brother about it.

“I am sorry about all that,” she said. “I am ever so sorry, brother. I should have never let that game go so far. I should have never helped him. It’s not your fault. It is mine.”

He nodded, his eyes softening. “A little. But I can’t be angry with you, darling. You’re the one that suffered from my decision. Had I not forced you into that marriage against your wishes, you would still have your honor and virtue intact.”

And she wouldn’t have fallen in love with Richard and known the greatest happiness in the world.

“No, you cannot take responsibility for my mistakes,” she said. “Which is why I’m begging you not to hurt Richard.”

He went completely still, all warmth gone from his face the moment she said Richard’s name. “No. Jane, you are a female. Men of my kind hold only our loved ones and honor close. He has harmed both. I cannot let him go unpunished.”

“Please, Thorne. I know you’re planning something. But I’m here, safely with you. I promise you I’ll never do anything like that again. I’ll take any husband you want me to and won’t say a word. I’m begging you. Do not do whatever you plan to do.” Her chest was tearing apart as Thorne eyed her coolly. “Please,” she added.

“Jane—”

“For our shared childhood’s sake,” she pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper. “For our bond. Please, Thorne.” Her eyes blurred and her throat constricted so that her next words came out in a croak. “Let him live.”

He sighed deeply. Then he nodded and looked out of the window again. “You shouldn’t worry about it.”

“So you agree? You give me your word?”

He cryptically hummed without looking at her.

Relief flooded her and she leaned back. With Thorne, that was as good as a yes.

She clutched her hands together and looked out at the dark streets passing by. Saying no to Richard and abandoning the happiness of a lifetime with him was worth it, she thought. Richard would live.

But without him, whether the rest of her days would be called a life was a big question.