Chapter 35

CHAPTER 35

A llan didn’t sleep at all that night. He couldn’t.

He paced back and forth in his room, thinking about everything Lady Edwina had said and everything Seth had said. Thinking about his own feelings and how he was going to try to manage them.

From the moment his parents had died, Allan had known his responsibility. And from that moment, he had taken that responsibility very seriously. He had to step into his father’s shoes. He had to find someone to marry who would make the right impression on society. He had to have a son of his own, an heir to the dukedom, and continue the family line. These were not options; they were things that were required of him. He had to do all of this.

And yet, he had lived with his feet in two different worlds, for he had been unwilling to sacrifice the carefree days of his youth. He had spent time at gentlemen’s clubs. He had associated with ladies he had no intention of marrying. He had poured his young life into enjoying himself, always with the promise at the back of his mind that when the right lady came along—when his duchess appeared—he would let go of his old ways and marry her.

He had always been sure that was true, but now, suddenly, he didn’t know.

What Seth had said simply made too much sense. His friend was right. He had created an idea for himself of a perfect lady—a lady who didn’t exist in the real world. When he thought of the perfect duchess in his mind and compared her to Lady Edwina, for instance—what were the differences?

His perfect duchess would never challenge him. Lady Edwina challenged him all the time. She rarely did anything else.

But he had found that he liked that. He liked the way she spoke to him as if he were the most foolish man alive sometimes. He liked the way she questioned everything he said. He would never have guessed that he would enjoy such a thing. He couldn’t have planned for this in his mind. It had taken knowing her for him to realize the way he felt, and now that he did, he understood that there was no way back for him. There was no way he would ever be able to meet an uncomplicated lady and think her better for him than Lady Edwina was. He had come too far with her now.

What, then, was he going to do?

She had ordered him away so many times.

But Seth was right. She had also asked him whether he loved her. And why would she ask that question unless there was an answer she was hoping to receive?

There must be a reason. And he resolved to find out what it was.

Having reached that conclusion, he thought he might be able to sleep. He returned to his bed, lay down, and extinguished his lantern—but his thoughts continued to plague him through the night, and when he finally arose as the sun was coming over the horizon and through his window, he was no nearer to understanding what the coming day would bring.

He went down to breakfast early, knowing that he was likely to be one of the first there. He would have liked to wait, to go down only after he could feel confident that he would find Lady Edwina in the dining room, but he was simply too anxious to wait.

There were only a couple of people in the dining room at this hour, and after a moment, Allan realized that one of them was Lady Edwina’s sister. The Duchess looked pale and drawn, as if she hadn’t slept at all last night either. Frowning, Allan went over and took the seat next to her.

“Good morning, Your Grace,” he said.

She looked at him. Immediately, tears spilled from her eyes.

Allan was aghast. “Have I said something wrong? What on Earth is the matter?”

“It isn’t that,” the Duchess said. “But you were one of the last to speak to her—Seth told me. Oh…” She buried her face in her napkin.

Allan’s heart sank. This couldn’t mean anything good. “Who was I the last to speak to?” he asked, knowing the answer already.

“My sister,” the Duchess said.

“Has something happened to her?”

“She’s fine. But she’s left us. She’s traveling to the country this morning. Oh, how I hoped this wouldn’t happen! I always knew it was a risk if she decided to remain a spinster. I always knew that I might lose her this way. But I hoped she would change her mind. I thought Lord Kentrow…”

She shook her head, clearly unable to continue her thoughts.

“You thought that she would marry Lord Kentrow.” Allan felt empty inside. The Duchess might as well have said explicitly that Lady Edwina had left because of his involvement, that if it weren’t for him, she would have seen fit to marry the gentleman who had asked her.

He hadn’t asked her.

And she…

Had she wanted him to?

She had told him that she meant to leave. Had that, perhaps, been his chance to try to stop her from going? Was the Duchess right to blame him for the fact that he hadn’t prevented her from doing so?

But no—that couldn’t be right, Allan reasoned, because he had tried, hadn’t he? He had told her that he wanted her to stay, and that had to count for something, didn’t it? He had all but begged her not to go.

It was true that he hadn’t been able to offer her a confession of love, but that couldn’t be what she had needed at that moment. They had been in agreement all the while that there was no future between the two of them. She, in fact, had insisted repeatedly that she would never develop feelings for him. And when he had asked her to stay, her response had been—once again—to tell him to leave her alone.

Was he supposed to assume that he knew better than her words? That what she was saying wasn’t true, and that there was some hidden meaning that he had deciphered against her intentions?

It would have been the height of arrogance to think so. He had to believe the things she told him. What else could he do?

“She told you about Lord Kentrow, then?” the Duchess asked.

“She did,” Allan admitted.

“And did she tell you why she rejected him?”

“No. Not as such. I supposed that it was the same reason she rejects all her suitors. She has told me countless times that she doesn’t wish to marry. It would have been much more of a surprise to hear that she had accepted a proposal than it was to learn she had rejected one.”

“I suppose so,” the Duchess agreed with a sigh. “But I did hope this time might be different. He was so kind to her. You know, the real reason she rejects all those gentlemen is that she’s afraid.”

“Afraid!” Allan shook his head. “That doesn’t sound right. Begging your pardon, Your Grace, but I’ve never met anyone less fearful in all my life.”

“Well, perhaps fear is the wrong word for it,” the Duchess allowed. “But she feels that men will invariably be selfish and cruel. During her debut season, she was preyed upon by a rake?—”

“What?” Allan hadn’t known this. He was filled with a sudden rage at the thought, as if he were a guitar and someone was tightening his strings much too far, pulling them until they were sure to snap. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing happened,” the Duchess said quickly. “She was able to escape. But the man had the worst of intentions toward her, and as you can imagine, it affected the way she thinks about men to this day. She finds it difficult to place any trust in a gentleman’s intentions. It’s why she hasn’t wished to spend any time alone with you, you see.”

“Perhaps that’s part of the reason, but I’m confident it’s not the only reason,” Allan said. Was this what people had believed? “Don’t mistake me—it’s an outrage that someone could do that to her, and if the fellow were here now, I would drag him from the room and force him to account for his actions. But Lady Edwina is not someone who lives out of fear. She might have decided gentlemen were not worth her efforts after that experience, but she has never spent a single day frightened of me. She’s made the decision that she doesn’t require a gentleman in order to live happily—that’s what I see in her.”

The Duchess regarded him. “You see my sister very clearly,” she said. “I think you may see her better than anyone ever has.”

Allan felt heat creep through him. “I don’t know about that.”

“Well, I do. I have watched Edwina spend her life wishing she were better known—better understood. I have watched her grow increasingly frustrated day by day at the fact that no one sees the world in the same way she does. I’m glad she knows you, Your Grace. I’m glad the two of you spent the time you did together. My brother wouldn’t like me to say that. He thought it wasn’t a good choice. But I see now that he was wrong. The two of you are a good fit for one another—as companions if nothing else.” The Duchess sighed. “I think you could have been more to each other, but I suppose neither of you felt that way, and that can’t be helped.”

She turned her attention back to her meal.

But Allan felt frozen where he sat.

This changed everything—or at least, he felt as though it did. It meant that he wasn’t the only person who had seen something between Lady Edwina and himself after all. The Duchess had seen it, too. And if she had seen it, that validated his belief that it had really been there.

There was something between them. Something worth exploring.

But what could he do? She had left. He couldn’t force her to return.

Perhaps he should go after her.

Perhaps he should listen to her sister—and listen to his own heart.

But then he would be ignoring what she had told him. She had said she wanted him out of her life. And the Duchess had just finished telling him that he understood Lady Edwina as well as anybody did. This was no time to start ignoring what she said to him, surely?

He sighed, having lost his appetite altogether, and rose from the table.

“Your Grace, where are you going?” the Duchess asked him, watching as he got to his feet.

“I didn’t sleep very well last night,” he confessed. “I think I’ll return to my room for a few more hours.”

He saw the disappointment on her face, the sadness in her eyes, and knew that she had hoped for a different answer from him.

But what could he do? She wanted to see her sister married. She wanted him to be the one to bring Lady Edwina back to change the course that things were on. And Allan simply had no confidence that he was capable of any such thing.

He left the dining room and returned to his bedroom, feeling as exhausted as if he had been up for a full day. The darkness of his unlit room was welcoming, and he returned to his bed without bothering to remove his clothes.

This time, unlike last night, sleep stole over him almost at once, and before he had time to torment himself further about the complex and painful events of the last few days, he found himself sinking into the warm and welcome relief of slumber.