Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

M iss Proctor had planned to spend the entire day in bed moping and driving herself crazy with endless thought of how stupid she had been to let herself fall in love with the Duke.

Her hopes of him suddenly realizing that he was also hopelessly in love with her were dwindling by the day and all that remained now was the barest sliver of it.

"What are you still doing in bed?" The door flew open and she raised her head to stare at her aunt and the woman let out an unladylike squeak, "Did you sleep at all? Oh dear."

Lavinia frowned, "what is the matter?"

"You look a fright, darling and it's almost calling time."

She dropped her head back on the pillow, "Nobody is calling on me today, Aunt. Even if they do, tell them I am unwell."

The woman pursed her lips and stared at her niece who was looking rather defeated. It was obvious that something was wrong with the girl. Lady Hartfield didn't even have to had been present last night when Lavinia had raced away from their host's house like she had been on fire.

"That will not do, child," she chided, "if I had to guess, I would say that whatever happened last night between you and the Duke had been unpleasant."

On the contrary, Lavinia thought, it had been the most pleasant, earth shattering experience of her life. It was just too bad that he had gone and ruined it with his sudden change of attitude. Was she to spend the rest of her life enduring his hot and cold attitude? Wondering if he wanted her or not? Oh she would most likely end up in bedlam if she had to live like that.

The sigh she let out was weary and it made her aunt's eyebrows crawl up further. She cleared her throat and continued, "but whatever it is, I believe the both of you can talk it out and fix things. That will not happen if you hide away up here and turn him away. And anyway, it will only create nasty gossip if some silly bird saw him being refused at the door."

With a groan she finally sat up in bed, "I shall be down in a moment."

"Put a cool cloth over your face, darling. It will do wonders for you," with that piece of advice, the door finally shut behind Lady Hartfield and she took a deep breath.

And then she wondered if he would come, and how the discussion about last night would go. It would be rather embarrassing to look him in the eye now, after he had seen so much of her. However did the married couples manage to talk to each other in public after what they must have been up to the night before?

Her cheeks were flaming when the lady's maid rapped on the door and then walked in, "ma'am, I have been sent to get you ready for the day."

"Very well, thank you."

She felt better after washing and getting dressed in one of the new day dresses the dowager Duchess had practically forced on her. And she was glad her aunt had insisted on her getting out of bed because when she walked past Noah on the stairs, she saw the way his eyes narrowed on her, trying to find the tiniest hint that she was less than fine.

Lavinia offered him a close mouthed smile and continued on her way.

Lady Hartfield shot her a proud look as she appeared in the drawing room and she gave an answering smile before arranging herself into the settee.

"Would you like to embroider with me to pass the time?" the older woman asked.

Nothing had ever sounded less appealing to her and she showed it by shaking her head thoroughly. Her aunt only let out an exasperated huff and went back to her embroidery.

Lavinia wrung her hands and waited with bated breath for her aunt to bring up what happened last night, but the woman didn't spare her another glance.

She wasn't sure if she felt relieved or more distraught by her silence.

"His Grace, the Duke of Wyld is here," the butler announced and Lavinia glanced up in surprise.

"How wonderful," Lady Hartfield exclaimed, "I knew he would be here. Aren't you glad you got out of bed?"

She wasn't so sure. Smoothing down the front of her dress, she sat upright. "Let him in."

Barely any time later, the Duke walked into the room. He paused briefly at the door and their eyes met. That thing that existed between them flared to life as brightly and intensely as ever despite what had happened the previous night.

She gulped and then stood up to curtsy, "Your Grace."

"Miss Proctor," he smiled at her.

He settled into the space beside her, and she immediately noted the frown wrinkling his forehead.

"What is the matter?" she asked.

"My sister," he bit out and she let out a sigh of relief. "Can you believe she and Patrick have been carrying on behind my back?"

Disbelief made her brows inch up and she stared at him, "Behind your back? I didn't think they were even trying to hide their relationship at all."

He paused and there was a hint of betrayal in his eyes, "you knew about this?"

She hurriedly defended herself, "I didn't actually know they were involved, I just assumed that there was some affection there. But I do not see the problem with them being attached. He is your friend after all, and you must trust him very much to allow them to spend so much time together."

"Spend so much time together?" He gaped at her, "I have most certainly not permitted them to spend so much time together."

Was he being purposefully obtuse, "what about all those times they escorted us on outings? And Lord Dillon must have spent a lot of time at your house. It is only natural-"

"There is nothing natural about this," he bit out. "He's a cad! He waited for my guard to be down from alcohol and then began to spout his rubbish about being in love with her and she with him. As if I will believe any of that drivel."

She threw up her hands, exasperated, "what is so difficult to believe about them being in love?"

His mouth set into a firm line. "Love is nothing but a carefully constructed myth that is sold to fantastical people and even if I somehow believed in it, I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy."

There was a sickening lurch in the bottom of her belly and she suddenly wished she had never gotten out of her bed today. She could have buried herself under her bed covers and continued to lie to herself that the man she loved was capable of loving her back.

"And why is that?" Her words were small, careful, terrified.

Brown eyes flashed at her, "because it does nothing but destroy everything in its wake."

"Would you rather your sister is forced into a loveless marriage while knowing that something better exists?" Lavinia asked. "Would it not be better that she explore this feeling and learn from it?"

He stared at her for a long time, thoughtful and she felt the faint stirring of hope. Could it be that her words had gotten through to him?

"I thought you would be on my side."

Those words shattered any illusions she had left. "There aren't two sides here. I am simply on the side of-"

"If you are not on my side then you are on theirs and you believe that it is right that my own friend has had his sights on my sister for- I do not even want to think how long."

"You are making this entire matter about yourself."

"It is about me."

"No!" she hissed. "It has nothing to do with you. What they feel for each other has nothing to do with you. I would have thought that you would be relieved to see your sister in the hands of a man you trust, but instead, you have twisted it all up to look like they have plotted to ruin your life."

"Lavinia," a sharp voice warned and she looked over to see her aunt staring at her wide eyed. She shot the older woman a strained smile and then turned back to the Duke.

She was barely keeping a lid on her fury. A fury born of heartbreak and loss.

"I am not the unreasonable one here," he spat. "And you do not understand what love is. It does not just destroy the people involved. It destroys everyone around it."

All the hope she had had left fizzled away and she clutched her chest, trying to rub away the ache she suddenly felt. Victor would never love her. He could never love her and he would never allow himself to love her.

"I understand," she said placidly, "I understand."

She did understand, not his entire argument about how his sister and the Viscount had betrayed him though. What she understood was how hopeless it all was.

"You do?"

She nodded, trying to keep the hurt off her face, "Yes, I do. You are only trying to look out for her. You feel betrayed and you are-" she choked on the lies coming out from her mouth.

"Yes. I am."

They stared at each other silently and all she could think was that the arrangement had been doomed from the very beginning. What had she been thinking getting entangled with such a man? He was far too interesting and he made her feel too alive. He had told her he could not touch her and then he had and she had thought it was a turning point for them.

Those heated kisses and even the crackling heat between them at the moment meant nothing.

"I must go," he smiled at her and then his hand covered hers and squeezed. He stood up and she stood with him and dropped into a curtsy with an answering smile on her face, but the entire time her heart was breaking.

"Will you be at the Greenwoods' ball tonight?"

She couldn't remember if she had gotten an invitation, but she doubted she hadn't gotten one. Her status as the soon to be duchess had made the invitations triple. Nobody wanted to become an enemy of a duchess.

"Of course."

"Save your first waltz for me," he leaned over her hand and brushed a kiss on the back of her palm.

She watched him leave and just as the door shut behind him, her smile disappeared.

"Are you alright?" Lady Hartfield asked her and she turned to the woman with another painted on smile.

" Of course," the lie tumbled out of her mouth too easily.

"Oh?" She didn't look like she believed her at all. "Did you and the Duke manage to resolve your issues?"

"It was a minor matter," she waved her hand dismissively. "It was easily resolved."

Lady Hartfield's eyes searched hers, "It sounded rather heated from where I was sitting."

"I briefly lost my temper, but it's all settled now."

"Alright."

She smiled, "I think I shall join you for some light embroidery then. What pattern are you stitching?"

The woman's eyebrows scrunched up. If Lavinia was trying to pretend everything was fine, offering to join her aunt to embroider was the wrong move to make.

"Are you sure?"

Lavinia swallowed and tears threatened her vision. She wasn't sure of anything at all anymore. The biggest question now was if she could allow things to go on as they were. A few days ago, she had felt so optimistic and now...

Now she couldn't put the feeling into words. She merely nodded numbly in response.

"Alright then," her aunt settled back into her seat and patted the space behind her, "I distinctly recall the disasters that were your previous attempts at this. I do hope you have made some improvement."