Chapter 25

Chapter Twenty-Five

T he shock traveled up his arm, and Evangeline screamed as the boar faltered, missing a step. It crashed against the ground, momentum sending it careening toward her.

Terrified, she took several steps to the side, stumbling in her urgency.

The boar lay still.

Silence.

Hugh dismounted, tossing his gun aside as he crossed the hilltop to where Evangeline was still standing, her eyes wide and her breathing shaky.

Alive, she was still alive, but the fear that had rushed through him filled him with horror.

He had almost watched her die the same way his father had died.

"What were you thinking ?" he demanded through clenched teeth. "Did you not know better than to leave the hunt? Did you think that everything in the world is safe for your consumption?" Underneath his palms, her shoulders were shaking, but he wasn't sure if the movement came from him or from her. "Do you realize you could have died ?"

She gave a half-hearted scoff, the sound shaky and weak. "I'm not an idiot."

"No? Then explain to me why you took such a risk. Why did you come on the hunt at all?"

She shook him free, staggering back a little and pressing the back of her hand against her flushed cheeks. Her eyes were bright with tears.

"As if you'd care."

"Excuse me?"

"Because I am merely a pawn in your game, aren't I?" Her lower lip trembled, as though she was only holding herself together through the force of her willpower, and soon that too would expire.

"What are you talking about?" he demanded.

"I know about Lily."

The words spiraled through him with the bitter taste of shock.

Lily? How could she have known about Lily? What had happened since he'd been away? And why had no one informed him of this development?

All this when he had been searching for the right way to tell her.

"You know about Lily," he repeated, searching her face for the truth.

How much did she know? Regardless, he would have to tell her everything.

"You know that she's still alive?"

"I know she has been living in the castle with us for months. That barely anyone knows of her existence, and that you certainly did not see fit to tell me the truth."

That quivering lip flattened into a straight line, and he had to resist the urge to draw her into his arms and kiss the hurt away.

"I know you only married me as a form of revenge—which is worse than if you had merely married me out of a sense of duty. If George hadn't loved me, would you have offered me your hand?"

"Of course I would. My revenge did not merely come from marrying you."

"How gratifying." She strode past him toward her horse, which had bolted.

Behind them, the boar lay unmoving.

He had almost lost her.

He might lose her still.

"Listen to me." He caught her arm, swinging her back to face him. "Are you accusing me of not caring for you as a wife when I married you? Because if I recall correctly, you hardly harbored tender emotions toward me. In fact, I think you would have screamed if I'd touched you the way a husband might."

Her jaw tightened. "I was not the one to choose to marry you."

"My motives were not wholly pure. But do you understand why I did it?"

"I understand why you married me—you were combining your two loves: revenge and duty." She shook him off. "But that does not explain why you kept Lily a secret from me."

"I wasn't intending to for long?—"

"I asked you so many times what you were hiding. I pleaded with you to tell me. You even behaved as though…" Throat working, she turned away from him, and although he couldn't see her face, he knew it was to hide the tears in her eyes. "I thought you cared for me."

"I did. I do ."

"Then how can you justify this? How can you justify locking your own sister up when she has been through so much?"

"I justified it because the only way she can have a free life is without that bastard in it." He spat the word. "This isn't going to be her life for the rest of time—and for a lot of the time you've been here, she's still been recovering physically and emotionally. I haven't so much locked her up as kept her safe."

The way he had vowed to when he was a young man and his mother had died, telling him to protect Lily.

In the most important way, he had failed, but he would not continue to do so. This would not be his legacy.

"After I let her anywhere near that scoundrel," he said through gritted teeth, "I swore to myself that I would never let harm come to her again. And I meant it, Evangeline. No matter what that takes."

Her eyes were clear, staring into his with heartbreak written across every blue fracture in her iris.

By God, she was beautiful, and she was looking at him as though he was the worst man she had ever encountered.

"I understand your reasoning," she said, her voice distant. "And I could have forgiven your choices—your reasons behind marrying me, the fact that you concealed Lily from the world. But how can I forgive your weeks of lies? How can I feel as though I am the Duchess of Eldermoor when you kept such a vital part of your life from me?"

"You became the duchess when you became my wife."

"No, Hugh." She shook her head. "That's just it. I didn't. I became your wife when I married you, but to be the duchess means more than merely to exist in the castle. It means that I am your equal; a partner, as we look after the people in our care. We are caretakers, you and I, and I thought that I played a role in that, too. But how can I be a caretaker when you won't let me in on one of your deepest secrets? How can you expect me to take my place beside you when you won't trust me with this, even after I have proven again and again that I am yours?"

She pressed the flattened palm of her hand against her chest, and he could almost feel the way his heart cracked, too.

"That is what I cannot forgive."

"You sound as though you've already made up your mind."

"You chose revenge over your marriage with me," she said, and he felt the words pass through him with the gutting accuracy of a knife. "You decided that this thing you have with George was more important than building a life with me. And so, how can there be a life to build?"

"Once he's out of the country, Lily can come out of hiding—she will have nothing left to hide from. He'll be gone, and she'll be free."

"And I would have learned of this at the same time as the rest of the world?"

"I wanted to tell you," he said hoarsely. "I was just trying to decide how."

"Well, there is no need." She looked over his shoulder across the land—their land, the land he had grown up in and the one he had thought she'd adopted—and her expression grew distant. "I think I should return to London."

"London?"

"To be with my parents and sister. I've told you she needs my guidance now she's starting her new Season. And as far as it goes for us… I think it would be better if we had some space from one another."

This was not comparable to the feeling of knowing what Sandhurst had done to his sister. But it was a peculiar kind of hurt that shattered his chest as Evangeline walked to her horse and clambered on without his help. And he wondered, distantly, if a man could die from this.

He had wondered about it before. At the death of his parents; at Lily's illness and heartbreak. But now, watching Evangeline ride away, he felt certain that there was nothing worse than this feeling of utter inadequacy.

This was his fault. And he wasn't sure there was anything he could do to fix it.

* * *

Evangeline sobbed as she urged her horse into a canter. The cool air soothed her red, flushed face.

Hugh had not argued against her leaving for London, and although she was determined to go, as she had been since seeing him at breakfast that morning, it would have been nice to know he cared enough to stop her.

Then again, she already knew he didn't care. So what difference did it make? What difference did any of it make?

The ache in her chest felt as though it came from deep inside, a place she could not touch but that had snapped irreparably in two when she had learned of his betrayal. And that he had not told her, would not have told her until he revealed Lily's existence to the world.

She could have supported him. Had, in fact, already forgiven him for marrying her at least partly as revenge—hadn't she always known?

But this .

How could she forgive this?

"Your Grace," the groom called after her as she clattered into the stables and slid off her horse, stumbling slightly, her vision blurring with tears.

"Where is Susan?" she demanded as she strode into the house. "Send Susan to my bedchamber immediately."

A confused footman inclined his head. "Certainly, Your Grace. Where is His Grace?"

"Out hunting, I suppose." She fumbled with her gloves as she attempted to strip them from her fingers.

Her hands were shaking, and when she closed her eyes, she saw the maddened, crazed eyes of the wild boar. If Hugh hadn't been there?—

No, she couldn't think of it. She wouldn't have been there if she hadn't wanted to find a way of getting Hugh alone outside of the castle.

The audacity of his anger at her being in danger.

She barely noticed her progress as she reached her bedchamber. Susan was mere minutes behind, and Evangeline had already removed half of her clothes.

"Help me," she said, her voice catching. "And then please help me pack. I'm returning to London."

Susan's eyes widened. "London, ma'am?"

"Yes. Is that so difficult for you to understand?"

"No. That is—" Susan fumbled with the laces at the back of Evangeline's dress. "Why the sudden change of heart? I thought you were beginning to enjoy it here?"

Susan didn't know about Lily, and whatever else, Evangeline intended to keep her promise.

"I have decided I must be there for my younger sister's Season," she said, bottling up the tears. "And His Grace has made it clear that I am not necessary here at present."

Or at all.

Susan frowned, but she said nothing as she helped Evangeline out of her dress and into something a little more comfortable. Then she pulled out several cases and trunks.

"If you're returning to London, you'll need all your clothes," she said, not asking how long Evangeline would be going for—for which she was grateful.

Heaven knew she didn't know, either.

"Thank you," Evangeline said, finding her nightgowns and trying to fold them with jerky movements. She felt ill. Even her parents' worst mistakes and negligence had never made her feel like this.

Perhaps because she had never expected anything else from them. Their behavior was set from the start. But Hugh… She had expected something better from him.

And he had proved her wrong.

How stupid of her to give her heart to him when he had told her that he didn't have one of his own. She ought to have listened.

"Please, Your Grace. Sit. I'll take care of this."

Evangeline fell against the chair in the corner of the room, shock rising in violent shivers all over her body. "I'm sorry," she choked.

"Now then, nothing to be sorry for." Susan folded her clothes efficiently, placing them in the trunks. "I've always wanted to travel to London."

"You're… you want to come with me?"

"Of course I do." Susan gave her a soft, sympathetic look. "Where would you be without me, Your Grace, if you excuse me saying? This is what a lady's maid does, and I wouldn't want you traveling by yourself, and that's a fact."

"Thank you, Susan." Given the maid had been under the employ of Hugh initially, Evangeline was surprised at this display of loyalty—but relieved. She hadn't wanted to make the journey alone, either. "Pack quickly, if you would. I would like to leave before His Grace returns home."

The only sign of surprise Susan showed was a slight widening of her eyes, but Evangeline didn't elaborate, and Susan said nothing, and as soon as they could, they crept from the house and into the carriage that Evangeline had sent for.

Hugh was still not home.