Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-Four

I n the entirety of Richard’s life, he had awoken from slumber only a handful of times in a manner that demanded he remain precisely where he was. This was one of those times. Amelia clung to him, even in her unconsciousness. Her slim hands encircled his forearm as she lay just in front of him, her head resting over the top of it.

What was the grand loom of this universe doing by bringing the two of them together?

“I will not stand in the way of your duties or your desire to leave, Richard. Still, I must confess that recollections of our intimate moments together haunt me so. I…I wish to give myself a final memory to hold onto—a point in space that I may refer to whenever I am feeling called to do something like this again.”

Her words haunted him. While her body still craved their touch, it had become so evident that Amelia regretted their time together. A final night of passion was all that she wished for so that she might prevent herself from falling into the trap of connection with another. She valued her freedom too much to have it tainted by another’s presence.

And yet…perhaps if he might stay, Richard could show his wife that he no longer wished to disrupt her home, to criticize her every movement within the estate.

A terrible ache festered in his chest, and it was as if he could see the glimmering thread of gold that connected his fate to Amelia’s, the thin string floating through the air directly from the center of his sternum. Urgency and doubt swirled through Richard’s mind, a storm to his slumber’s calm.

I have no business becoming so enamored with Amelia. I have neither the ability nor experience that might grant me the skill to deliver her a love of worth .

He knew it to be true. Richard had been the recipient of so little affection in his time that he did not understand how one might go about showing it to others. Amelia hardly deserved a man who could not honor her with the regard she deserved. Her friends and acquaintances throughout Town had already seen fit to best him at it at every turn.

A heavy sigh left Amelia’s sleeping form, that moment of reset for the body even in dreams. Richard could tell that she dreamed, her eyes moving rapidly beneath her lids. His wife was a sight at all times, but there was a unique beauty to the way she looked while fantastical images danced in her mind.

He would remember this.

Richard was careful as he shifted forward on the soft bed, the lingering scent of their passions still perfuming the sheets. He angled himself forward, hovering his free arm over the top of Amelia’s head. Gently, the Duke reached down to stroke a fallen hair out of her eyes. The chocolate waves were tussled, but their softness remained the stuff of countless hours of care.

She was so lovely, so delicate and classical in her beauty. While others might fault her for not looking more like the ladies of court with their elaborate dress and makeup, Richard preferred this version of his wife. Amelia was her most gorgeous when she was stripped bare of all that livery, pure and unhurried.

He continued to stroke her cheek gently, careful not to wake her up. The velvet of her skin beneath his fingertips felt like home. For it was true that it was oftentimes a person and not a place. Every moment of intimate connection with Amelia drove that point further into him. She felt like home—a welcoming embrace when one stumbled in through a dark, stormy night.

I have done nothing else in my life as difficult as removing myself from your sight, dearest Amelia. Please allow some part of you to understand that I do it for you—everything I carry out from this point forth is for you .

For he would not harm her. He would not cause the Duchess further pain by dampening her light with his stormy countenance. Richard was a poor man for the lack of emotional skill he possessed, and he would not force Amelia to shackle herself to him any more than he already had.

Should she even be interested in cavorting with another, he would not fault her. The Duke would accept the situation as a regrettable truth and remain silent as more of his chest cracked open, allowing his essence to bleed out into the ether of time.

“This is what you want,” he whispered. “And you do not love me. How could you?”

The truth was no surprise or great wonder. Richard had been cruel to Amelia at a near-constant rate since he’d returned to Heartwick. He had challenged her staffing decisions, even sought out a replacement for a steward that Richard knew was loyal and kind, and he doubted her ability to maintain a ledger of the finances, which had only been proven false.

Richard had embarrassed Amelia in front of her friends, he had become jealous of a simple Viscount’s kind words, and he had offended her so greatly by questioning her ability to conduct herself in a proper manner.

All that he might have heard about Amelia was proven false within the first day of his arrival, and still, he remained, looking for weak points in her presentation. He had found none, not even her wish to remain living without such tight restrictions.

Richard agreed to an extent, after all. It was true that so much was expected of the both of them, and another helping more for Amelia. Society was of a collective mind to insist on a lady’s purity. At the same time, men were expected to carry on with several trysts before settling. In fact, such behavior was celebrated.

Men could talk freely with each other about such things, reminiscing on them in public company, but if a woman were to entertain the talk of any man for too long, she was painted as a trollop.

It is an uneven world. Amelia has merely shown me the reality of that all the more. She is correct, and I have been so wrong.

Halting in his light caress of Amelia’s hair and face, Richard rolled onto his back. He could not bear the thought of seeing her eyes when he made his departure. And though it painted him a coward, he preferred to seize this opportunity to slip from the room unseen.

It was the work of several minutes to extract his arm from her, sliding it inch by inch across the bed until it was free. Richard stepped cautiously across the floor toward his attire. He had thought to don a new waistcoat and trousers for his journey, but he could not stand to wait for the laundress to be done with them.

Instead, he pulled himself together, dressing alone without the assistance of his valet, until he was again covered in the protective fabric of his clothing. They smelled of a combination of his cologne and Amelia’s perfume. It was a blend he would never tire of smelling but would soon never experience again.

Perhaps I will not send this waistcoat to be cleaned but preserve the memories in cloth and hang it within the farthest recesses of my wardrobe .

It was a silly thought, sentimental and impractical, but Richard knew that he was to be a victim of it as well. He needed a tangible item that he might turn to when his heart ached for Amelia’s presence.

The sound of rustling sheets yanked Richard from his thoughts, and he spun around, terrified that his wife might be waking. Still, as he turned to face her, Amelia had merely rolled over in the bed, her eyes still shut and her breathing still even.

As she lay there, more of this newfound sentimentality swelled within Richard’s chest, and he was forced to his knees at the side of the bed, hovering there as he cast one final glance over Amelia’s beauty.

“You are the stuff of fairy tales, Amelia. Crystalline dew drops frozen in perfection against a spring leaf. I will never forget the effect you have had on me, and I only hope that as the years progress, I will not forget what you have taught me, even if unknowingly.

Long years in the past, at the height of my father’s abuse, I made a vow to keep my heart closed, to never trust a soul, for they would assuredly betray that conviction at the soonest opportunity.”

Richard considered his father. He thought on the cruelty and malice he exchanged for performance. He remembered the lengths to which he was expected to go for the heinous old man. But what’s more, the Duke remembered Amelia’s words regarding Hugh.

She had said that he wished to know Richard, that there had been an attempt by his stepmother to remove him from his father’s wrath, but she was no match for him. It was such a better notion than what he had carried around with him for years that the Duke was desperate to accept it.

But how could he?

Richard watched Amelia sleep, his fracturing heart somehow still beating within his ribcage. This would be his chance, the only one he would be afforded, to speak his truth. And though she might not truly hear it, he hoped that Amelia’s subconscious might lock away his words to invisibly comfort her on the lonelier nights.

“I have promised myself to never trust anyone…” He felt a terrible sting in his eyes as his throat was tight and dry. “But…were I to break that vow, it would be for you, Amelia. Were I a better man, I would give you the whole of my body, mind, and spirit. Because…because I am most in love with you.”

Richard stood up and walked to the wall where his wardrobe sat empty. Retrieving his smallest case that would be traveling back with him, he sucked in a breath—shakily and unevenly. With the last of his things, he crept across the floor toward the door, scarcely making a sound. As he approached the door, Richard took care to open it so that the hinges would not squeak.

He cast another look over his shoulder, memorizing the way Amelia looked as she lay there, her pale skin gleaming softly in the growing light of morning that snuck through the drapes. Richard would keep that image locked in his mind for all his day, returning to it at every moment of solitude.

With that, he stepped over the threshold of his room at Heartwick, which would return to being Amelia’s room. He set his case down on the floor next to him, closing up the chamber and lying the flat of his hand on the wood. Such pain that threaded through his being was worse even than that he’d experienced under his father’s hand—and this was his own doing.

“Be safe, Amelia. Be happy and be safe.”

Richard turned away from the door, slipping down the hallway as silently as he could. At the end, he found a pair of housemaids readying themselves to visit their chambers. As they ducked their heads before him, Richard paused.

“Do not wake her. Allow the Duchess to sleep.” Their eyes widened, but the women quickly nodded. “When I am gone…after a time, inform the Duchess that there is a separate stipend within the finances that had been set up for an increase in staff wages. I had no mind to use it, I fear. The Duchess will be different. Tell her about it, and she will see fit to employ the funds to better your financial standing.”

The women looked shocked, far too much to speak, so Richard simply offered them a smile and a short nod, leaving from the hallway to make his way to the front hall.

He would be traveling for the better part of half a day, and setting out early would do him good. His valet approached the stairs as Richard descended, and he met the Duke with surprise as well.

“Your Grace, I had meant to fetch you for breakfast. No matter, I shall be happy to assist you in enjoying a hearty meal prior to our departure.”

“That is not necessary, Edward. We shall leave at once.” Edward’s brows knitted together slowly, and he cast a glance at Richard as if he’d heard devastating news. “It is better that we carry forth to Blackford prior to the Duchess’s waking.”

Disappointment and heartbreak smoothed over Edward’s expression, but he was quick to school them away. With a nod, he took Richard’s case and went with him to the door. His valet opened the entrance for him, and Richard paused. He looked back up toward the stairs, imagining the sleeping form of his wife.

“Goodbye…Amelia.”

Richard stepped through, moving swiftly to the carriage parked at the front of Heartwick estate. He practically leaped inside its body, unable to regard the home another time. Richard knew that if he were to glance at it even once more—if he were to see Amelia standing there on the doorstep calling out to him—that he would never leave Heartwick.

Part of him wished to hear her voice ringing out in the distance behind the carriage as it pulled away from the estate. But he did not. It was quiet this morning, not even a birdcall to give a backdrop to his departure.

The world, it seemed, was quite speechless.