Chapter 8

How had her life come to this? To being shouted at by a reclusive duke for only doing what she thought would help him?

Siena wasn't sure how long she remained prostrate on her bed feeling sorry for herself before a slight knock sounded on the door. She wanted to tell the person to go away, to leave her alone, but, of course, not wanting to hurt any feelings as the duke had hers, she sniffed, wiped her eyes, and called out a watery, "come in."

Mary stood in the door, a hesitant smile on her face.

"I heard the shouting, my lady. Are you all right?"

"I am fine, Mary, thank you," Siena said, dipping her head, pulling at the embroidery that covered the pink bedspread. "I am afraid that I am not very welcome here, is all. I am trying to be helpful, but I seem to only become more of a burden."

"'Tis not your fault, my lady," Mary said, taking a step into the room and shutting the door behind her. She took a seat on the bench in front of the vanity, close enough that they could speak in lowered voices but not so close that she was in Siena's space. "The duke has had a trying time of it, and I am afraid that any who become close to him often face his wrath. It has naught to do with you."

Siena nodded. "It is not just that. It is also that I simply am not welcome anywhere. I cannot return home. The duke does not want me here. I do have a house to go to, but until the roads are passable, I will not be able to get there. I cannot even send a letter to my friend. I would say I am a prisoner here, except that my jailor has more interest in setting me free than I do myself."

She laughed wryly at that, and Mary tilted her head as she studied her.

"Well, know this, my lady. You have a friend in each of us here. I know it seems the duke can be hurtful, but the truth is, it is good to see him with others in his presence. It has been a year since his brother's death, and he has had nearly no visitors in that time, save for one determined friend."

"It seems I have only left one beast to find another."

Mary lifted her hand to try to hide her gasp. "That is how the duke describes himself. Has he said the word to you?"

"A beast?" Siena furrowed her brow. "I only called him such because of the way he has treated me."

"I wouldn't repeat it around him. He will think you mean his scars."

"His scars are the least concerning of all of him!" Siena said, shocked. "Is that why he has hidden himself away?"

"Wouldn't you?" Mary asked, and Siena had to pause, considering it. The question, however, was such a different one, for as a woman, she lacked most choice that was associated with such a decision.

"I am not certain what I would do," she admitted. "But if I had the option, I would prefer to continue to be close to those I love."

Mary rose from her place. "I must return to my work, but know that you are not alone, my lady."

"Thank you, Mary," Siena said quietly. "I needed a friend."

At home, her mother had never allowed her to speak to servants in such a manner – they were for assisting, not for visiting – but it had always bothered Siena that she spent so much time in their presence to never have a conversation.

Perhaps there could be another way to live. A different way.

As for the duke… she would love to stay and show him that he didn't have to live in the pain that appeared to consume him.

But perhaps he was past saving.

Levi knewhe had been a beast to the girl.

When he'd seen the way she had looked at his scar, however, every reason why he had become the man he was, why he hid away in this estate, why he never saw anyone in polite society, reared up within him. He hadn't been able to quell the emotion that emerged.

He was remorseful, yes, but he was also thankful.

For he had begun to like having her around, and now he remembered why he had to be alone.

She was a beautiful, innocent young woman in the prime of her life, who should find a man worthy of her. Hell, even her formerly intended fiancé sounded like a better bet.

Levi could never share his life with another. Not anymore. For he now only carried around the worst parts of himself. Every good part had been burned away.

He could barely hang onto his temper, and when her eyes had landed on his scar, tracing it from his sightless eye down his body, he had seen the revolt on her face. Now she would never be able to look at him without remembering the full extent of his ravaged body.

He had to be rid of her. He looked out the window now, at the drizzle that continued to fall from the sky.

"Why can you not stop raining?" he yelled at the heavens, as though they could answer him or dry up upon his rage.

But no, the rain just kept falling, mocking him, showing him that he had no more control over this than he did any other area of his life.

That being said, he knew he had to apologize. Lady Siena hadn't deserved his wrath. She had been in the wrong place at the wrong time and was likely more traumatized over what she had seen than anything else.

There was only one solution.

He had to apologize.

He sighed as he called for McGregor.

It seemed that tonight, he would be joining Lady Siena for dinner.

Siena enteredthe dining room that evening with a book in hand, for she expected to be eating alone and four courses took an awfully long time with no one but herself for company. She had found a collection of Shakespeare in the forefront of the library, and she had picked up A Midsummer Night's Dream. She far preferred Shakespeare's comedies to the awful tragedies that her mother had insisted she read.

She stopped short in the doorway when she saw the duke sitting at the head of the table. Upon her entry, he stood, nodded his head stiffly, and pulled out a chair for her.

Siena knew she was gaping and could practically hear her mother in her head telling her to close her mouth, but she couldn't help herself. Where was the man from a few hours earlier, who had shouted at her to get out of the room, who had looked at her as though she was the devil himself?

"I will join you for dinner," he said stiffly. "If you do not mind."

"O-of course not," she said, finally taking steps into the room, setting her book down on one of the side tables as she did. "It is your home."

"If I make you uncomfortable?—"

"It is fine," she said, forcing a smile on her face, unable to help her need to put him at ease as he was so clearly worried about her reaction. "I would be most pleased to have company."

She had been placed to the right of him, and she wondered if that was his own doing or if the servants had set them like this, but it was no matter.

She cleared her throat to begin polite conversation, but he lifted a hand.

"Before we begin, I must apologize," he said. "The way I spoke to you this afternoon was not acceptable and I am sorry for it."

Siena found the intensity of his blue eye too much to bear and she looked down at her hands, which were currently twisted in her pale blue gown. Well, Eliza's pale blue gown that was one of the few she had packed for her.

"Thank you," she murmured. "I also apologize for entering and seeing you… unclothed." She had to choke out the word as heat rushed into her cheeks once more at the reminder of seeing him completely bare before her.

"I realize how shocking it must have been," he said, his voice rough, uneven.

"You are correct," she said, finally meeting his gaze despite how it caused the flush to rush from her cheeks throughout the rest of her body. His frown deepened at her words, pain slicing over his face. "I have never seen a man's body before," she whispered, biting her lip as she did, noting the surprise on his face.

"That is what shocked you?" he said, losing the awkwardness.

"Yes," she said with a frown. "Of course it did. Why else do you think I was so startled?"

He was silent for a moment before he finally answered her. "My body is… significantly scarred," he said. "I could understand how seeing its ugliness would have affected you."

Her brow furrowed. "It saddens me to think how much pain you must have felt," she said. "If anything, I was surprised at how well you move considering what it must feel like to do so."

He grunted as the soup course was brought in, his gaze down upon the bowl, frowning at it as though it had done him some disservice.

"Is something the matter?" Siena asked, leaning forward.

"I do not usually eat in company," he muttered.

"Pretend I am not here."

"That's not it."

"Then what is the problem?"

He lifted his hands to the table, and it was only then that she realized she had never seen him without gloves before – save for the incident earlier today, but with all of his manliness before her, she hadn't been paying much attention to his hands.

Now she saw that his left hand was not unscathed.

"Can you move it?" she asked, gesturing toward it.

"I can move it some," he said. "The scar tissue restricts the movement, however. It is the same with my jaw."

"Do what you need to enjoy your meal," she said. "I will pass no judgment."

"I eat slowly."

"I have all the time in the world."

They were both silent for a time, the only sound the clinking of their soup spoons against their bowls, and Siena found that there was truly nothing unpleasant about eating with him, besides her slight concern that his anger might flare up again.

He did eat slowly, carefully, but it rather relaxed her.

"Thank you for allowing me to stay," she said quietly, striving for a way to convince him to talk. "I can hardly imagine being in London married to Lord Mulberry right now."

He had just taken a sip of his wine and choked, nearly spitting out the liquid.

"Lord Mulberry?" he said, his fingers tightening on his wine glass. "That is who you were going to marry?"

"Yes," she said. "Do you know him?"

"I know of him," he said, his entire body shivering in obvious disgust. "My God, but it is fortunate you escaped him."

"Because he is so much older than me?"

The duke began to shake his head. "Because he is cruel. But who am I to talk."

"I do not see you as a cruel man," she said, a smile tugging at her lips. "A little surly, perhaps."

"Surly," he grunted, his lips turning upward into what Siena couldn't call a smile but just was, perhaps, not a frown. "What kind of parents do you have that they would marry you off to Mulberry?"

Siena bit her lip. She had thought the same and yet she instinctively couldn't help but defend them.

"They were doing what they thought was best."

He looked at her with a piercing gaze.

"You must not go back to him."

She swallowed, wanting to ask him to expand, but she was too scared of how he might respond.

"Did you sustain your injuries in the war?" she asked, not knowing where the question came from, but she had been wondering and also wanted to change the subject.

His head snapped up at her words. "How did you know I was in the war?"

She shrugged, looking down at her plate. "Everyone knows."

"I suppose," he said, bristling. "You must know all about me, then."

"Actually, not much at all," she responded, straightening her spine. "The fact that there are so many rumours about you tell me that there is no validity to any of them. For if the truth were known, then no one would have to speculate."

He looked at her in some disbelief. "You truly believe that?"

"I do."

He paused as the footmen removed the soup dishes, replacing them with the first course, cold cuts of roast beef and pickled vegetables.

"I did not sustain my injuries in battle," he said, and Siena waited for him to continue. "I have no wish to speak of them any further."

"Very well," she said, disappointed, not because she needed to know so badly but that he didn't trust her. "Should you ever like to, I am a good listener."

He nodded but didn't continue.

Siena sensed that he had never spoken to anyone about whatever demons haunted him, and she wondered about this friend who insisted upon visiting whether the duke wanted him or not.

She hoped for the duke's sake that he would find a way forward.

She just didn't know if she would be anywhere near to see it.