Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

Y ou should have known better. You should have known better. You should have known better.

Didn’t he know better? Adrian rubbed his chin as he hastened up to his bedchamber. His valet was not there at the moment, but he didn’t bother ringing for him. There were too many thoughts racing through his mind that he could not have spoken to a living soul if they stood before him.

“You should have known better,” his mother had told him once. “What were you thinking?”

He had known better then. Nearly five-and-ten, Adrian had begun growing. Not just like other boys his age, but more than he was prepared for and more than his parents were prepared for. Though his father’s father had been a giant of a man, no one had expected the small boy to suddenly start springing up.

“I’m sorry,” he had told his mother at the time.

His mother used to celebrate her birthday exactly three weeks before his own. She was a pleasant woman most of the time, prepared to give her attention to the ton, who catered to her every whim.

Every whim that had nothing to do with the men in her family. Something I could not fault her for, as lonely as I might have been back then.

As he had still not been considered an adult at the time, Adrian had not been invited to the birthday party. It had gone well mostly. He’d convinced the servants to let him linger in the shadows, where he could watch the merriment. Games and refreshments kept everyone happy as the night progressed. Plenty of drinks, as well, which slowly tricked the partygoers into revealing the truth about themselves.

His father included.

The late Duke of Wakefield was known for his loud voice and the strength of his fists. He’d enjoyed the early days of pugilism and was an expert in every sport known to the ton. The man had served in the army, demanding perfection in everything once he inherited the duchy.

“That’s not how you do it,” the former Duke had slurred to his wife that evening, when most of their guests had already taken their leave. Only two couples remained, all of them making their way to the great hall to wait for their carriages. “The riddle, it goes like…”

He said a filthy sort of limerick, and Adrian was only half-certain of what was said between the slurring and hiccupping.

“Your Grace! That is… that is quite…” His mother lowered her voice so the guests walking ahead of them would not hear her.

That meant Adrian, who was hiding at the top of the stairs, couldn’t hear her either. All he saw was his father’s response.

Huddling against the banister, he watched his father shove his mother into the wall. The former Duke sputtered and shouted. Their butler and a footman ushered the bewildered guests out the door in seconds, making excuses. Which meant that they left their master alone with his wife, who was cowering as he railed against her.

“Cannot control me!” he blabbered on, his fists raining down on her until she was down on the ground. She was a puddle in her light blue gown, her arms wrapped over her head.

Adrian was growing, but he wasn’t as big as his father. Most days, he feared he never would be.

Still, he couldn’t sit there without trying to defend his mother. Most of the time, these incidents happened when he wasn’t around. Sometimes when he was away from home. And when he was here, he’d noticed more often than not that the servants locked him in his bedchamber. For his own safety, they said. It took him years to realize what they meant.

“Stop!” His voice sounded high-pitched and weak, but he kept yelling while bounding down the stairs. Those long limbs of his were growing too quickly for him to know what to do with them. He stumbled, hitting his shoulder against the wall on his way down to the ground floor. “Stop hurting her!”

The stairs had felt endless at the time. When he finally reached his parents, young Adrian had been soaked with sweat and filled with concern. He saw his mother shrinking further into the floor while his father took a break to catch his breath.

“Stop it!” Adrian took his chance and pushed back his father.

As drunk as he was, the former Duke still managed to keep his footing. He didn’t budge. Instead, he turned and swung his fists at Adrian, knocking him off his feet.

Adrian’s ears rang. The throbbing in his head got worse after running into the wall, nearly knocking off art. Staggering up, he thought he tasted blood in his mouth. He told himself it meant nothing. He looked back at his father with consternation, wondering if there was anything he could really do to stop the man.

“You can’t do this,” he said, trying to find something new to tell the man that might make him stop this torment for good.

He feared for his mother, for their family. No one ever talked back to his father, and Adrian knew he was putting himself in danger.

But perhaps that would at least keep his mother safe. The former Duke didn’t usually go beyond the occasional ear-boxing.

“Do you think you are so close to the title that you can tell me what to do? Be careful, boy, or I will make sure you inherit nothing,” the man sneered, his eyes flashing in the dim candlelight. Then he wavered like he might topple over. He glanced down at his wife with distaste before looking back at Adrian. “Now, pick up that wench and get yourself to bed. I don’t want to see either of you again tonight.”

Breathlessly anxious, Adrian waited until his father had moved away far enough that he was certain they were safe and then hastened to his mother’s side. She sniffled while she cradled her left wrist in her other hand.

“Mother? I’m here,” Adrian whispered, tremors of fear still coursing through him. He cast a glance at the shadows his father had disappeared into. “You’re safe now.”

“You know better than to bother him,” his mother chided instead of thanking him. “Adrian, you nearly embarrassed me in front of our guests. What did you think shouting at your father would achieve?”

Adrian opened and closed his mouth several times, uncertain how to respond. Sometimes she lashed out at him like this. Every time left him perplexed. It was an ongoing riddle he couldn’t find an answer to. But if he could find the right solution, the right way to protect her and save her, then he believed with all his heart that she would love him like she loved the ton. All he had to do was do the right thing.

“I’m sorry,” he attempted, at first. He reached out to help her to her feet. Hot anger rose inside him, as he craved to seek justice for her. “But I won’t let him keep hurting you! We’ll get you out of London. He won’t follow you to the country. Then, when I am big enough, I can––”

A small shriek escaped her when he grasped her elbow to help her rise. She stared at him in dismay before yanking her arm back. There was a thunk as she fell to the floor.

Adrian started, but when he tried to help her up a second time, she yelped and shrank away from him.

Something inside him fractured at that moment. He froze, uncertain what he had done now.

“Mother?” he tried.

“How dare you tower over me like that?” she cried out, her lower lip wobbling. “You look just like your father. That rage is inside you, too. What is it now? Do you wish to beat me, too?”

Hot shame washed over Adrian as he jerked back. “No, of course not.”

“You’re no different than him,” she spat. She pushed herself to her feet and leaned heavily against the wall. Her chest heaved while she glared at him until a chill ran down his spine. “Every Crawford is the same! I’ll never be rid of you, will I?”

Then she ran away, wailing quietly. He did not follow her. He wasn’t sure that he could.

Staring down at his hands now, larger than he remembered, Adrian felt the acute sense of passing time. He heard her words echoing in his mind. There would be no freedom from this, from his parents.

He loved them and he hated them. He feared them as he began to fear himself, retiring to bed that night only to not sleep a wink for nearly three days until his body gave in to exhaustion. Adrian didn’t remember much of that time. It was a painful and bitter blur where nothing tasted right, and he had hated every moment of being alive.

Eventually, he pulled himself out of the darkness. He survived his parents. But the decision had been made by then—he would never marry. He would never have a wife, and he would definitely never have children. He couldn’t take the risk.

He reminded himself of this now that he was back in Bradford House after the ball, alone in his bedchamber, pacing back and forth with his mother’s hiss still ringing in his ears.

Everything will be fine so long as I keep my distance.

Adrian worked past his inner turmoil. He had to. This wasn’t something he should let consume him for minutes, hours, days. There was so much else that required his attention. There was a tightness in his chest that filled him with dread. He didn’t know how to shake it off, only that he couldn’t let it linger.

“I never should have let myself get involved with Charlotte. Or rather, her Season,” he corrected himself under his breath.

It was too dangerous to get close to others, especially women or anyone who could not stand up to him. Adrian enjoyed the occasional dalliances and kept them short in case he lost control. It had been so easy for his father. It was his second nature, quickly becoming his first.

And Adrian would not let that happen to himself.

“Your Grace, you didn’t ring?” Lionel stood in the corner of the bedchamber, a hesitant look crossing his face.

Though he wondered how long his valet had been watching, Adrian decided not to ask. He had told Lionel little of his past, only that he was to be stopped if he were ever in a temper and at the risk of hurting others. It had amused Lionel at the time, though he’d promised to take the matter seriously. So far, there had been no concern.

But there were still many days to come.

The less people I care about, the less likely I am to hurt anyone. Tonight, I was too close to Charlotte. All I wanted was to throttle that man until he cried. To shake Charlotte into understanding that she can’t go off with strange men. I cannot put my hands on her. I cannot.

He could protect her from other men, but he feared he could not protect her from himself. Yet, as Adrian tried to find the right words, they wouldn’t come to him.

Shaking his head, he beckoned Lionel over. “Get this coat off me and then you can take my boots and polish them in the morning. I’ll manage the rest on my own tonight.”

“Certainly.”

The two of them spoke little after that, his valet clearly noticing that there was much on his mind. It spun and swam and kept him awake the entire night.

By morning, he wasn’t confident how much sleep he’d managed to get. An hour? Two? He was in no shape to tutor Charlotte today.

Making his way to the dining room, Adrian expected to find her there, only to learn she was still abed. He let it slide and waited for her in his study.

“Good morning,” Charlotte chirped with a cautious smile when she finally arrived, her eyes taking him in. She must not have liked what she was seeing, as her smile turned into a frown. “Or perhaps not.”

“It hardly matters.” He stood up, waving his hand when she moved to take a seat. “There is no need for that. We will not be having lessons today.”

Her eyebrow rose, and she opened her mouth as though to make a witty comment. But then, she seemed to change her mind. Her lips pressed together tightly, and then her eyebrow lowered. Tilting her head, she stepped closer to him.

“You don’t look well,” she noted.

“Lady Charlotte, one never remarks on the poor look of another,” Adrian muttered in irritation.

Straightening up, Charlotte huffed before taking a step back. Her eyes darted away but kept returning to him. Normally, he would be flattered. Proud. But his head was beginning to ache, and he kept hearing his mother’s voice in his ear.

Was there enough distance between him and Charlotte? He moved further behind his desk.

“I won’t bite.”

He forced a tight, sardonic smile. “I should hope not—your bark is sharp enough. Take the day off to review our lessons. Perhaps a few of the books could use another read-through. In fact, the next couple of days are yours to do with as you please. Just report back to me in three days.”

That would have to be enough time for Adrian to sort himself out.

Charlotte must have been stewing over an answer; he could see the battle in her eyes. Most likely, she was tempted to tease him but was weighing whether it was worth missing the opportunity. No matter the case, she lost her chance as another figure forced their way into the room.

The door banged against the wall, making them both jump. There stood Theodosia in a grand dress he hadn’t seen in ten years, with a matching bonnet that included no less than five feathers.

“There you two are!” she said briskly. “I’ve been looking all over the place for both of you. We are expected in the park this morning. What on earth are you wearing? No, it won’t do. You have a total of ten minutes to change before we walk out the door. I recommend light colors, since the morning is a tad warm.”

Just thinking about walking outside made Adrian wince. “I don’t think so, Auntie.”

Apparently, there was no room to negotiate, as she lifted her cane and waved it at him. “I didn’t give you an option, did I? My friends are expecting the three of us to promenade at the top of the hour. We cannot disappoint them.”

“Perhaps another day,” Charlotte suggested hesitantly, facing Theodosia but glancing back at Adrian warily.

“Why? You two are acting as though something is wrong.” The old woman gave them a severe look. “Perhaps if the ball was too long or something happened, we could make our excuses. Did something happen?”

“No,” Adrian and Charlotte said in unison. They shared looks and turned back to the Dowager Duchess.

“Not at all,” Adrian muttered.

She gave a sharp nod. “Very well. Ten minutes. I shall meet you in the entrance hall. Do not keep me waiting.”

It only took a moment for the three of them to leave the study.

Adrian took the longer route up the servants’ stairs to his bedchamber, trading his shirt for something lighter and a light brown coat that matched his breeches. He pinned a gold and sapphire brooch to his cravat and grabbed his hat on the way out.

Making his way to the entrance hall, he slowed down when he spotted Charlotte and Lloyd there, but not his aunt.

“Perhaps we don’t need to go?” He pulled out his pocket watch from his waistcoat. “It is the hour, after all. Ten minutes and all that.”

Charlotte looked pretty as she had a moment ago. He tried not to look, but there was no ignoring her. She had wide cheeks with those sharp cheekbones. There was color in them now, as if she’d run down the stairs to get here before him. One of her curls had escaped her updo. Tempted as he was to fix it, Adrian only clenched his hands into fists.

“Lloyd,” she asked sweetly with those pretty pink lips of hers, “do you know where Her Grace might be?”

“I’m afraid she was missing a few feathers from her bonnet and went to retrieve some more,” the butler explained.

Adrian nodded before jerking his head up to look at him. “Wait. Is she bringing more feathers or getting rid of them? God’s blood, this is ridiculous.”

“It is fashion,” called his aunt from the other end of the hall. She patted her bonnet carefully and continued in their direction. He glanced down at the watch in his hand—they were two minutes late. When he glanced up, she huffed and waved a hand at him. “Ignore that, it cannot be right.”

“You mean that you cannot be late?” he mused.

“Exactly. Lloyd?”

The butler nodded, opening the door for them.

Adrian huffed as he walked out, but he didn’t miss Charlotte’s small smile. Making their way to the park just down the street, he squinted in distaste at the bright daylight.

“Ghastly, isn’t it?” she asked softly.

“Absolutely disgusting.”

Everything in his body hurt. If he could stop thinking, the pain would surely go away. He just couldn’t pull himself together right now. Being around Charlotte wasn’t helping either. There was a tension in his body that he couldn’t ignore.

“I would rather be inside reading a book right now,” she admitted as Theodosia led the way.

They fell into step behind the woman wearing feathers that threatened to tickle Adrian’s nose. Theodosia waved to her friends, who stood nearby chattering like magpies.

“It was a very good book,” Charlotte continued.

Adrian suppressed a yawn. Then he offered her his arm upon realizing he’d not done the gentlemanly thing. The warmth of her hand seeped through the fabric of his coat, making his stomach flip. “I’d rather be doing anything other than this.”

“It could be worse.”

Giving her a skeptical look, he raised an eyebrow. “How?”

Charlotte hesitated and then smirked. “You could be wearing the feathers, too.”

He snorted at once. From the corner of his eye, he saw her lips quirk up with amusement. Her lips twitched when he chuckled. Then, he looked at her again and neither of them could help it this time. The tension building inside him all morning eased as he laughed with her.

All the stress faded away. That tightness in his chest softened into a gentle warmth. Even the sunshine didn’t bother his eyes as it had a moment ago. His shoulders relaxed slowly and gratefully.

By the time Theodosia was introducing him and Charlotte to her friends, he was much improved. Not perfect, not happy, but improved. And as Charlotte shot him a smile, he couldn’t help thinking that he could stand a little sunshine right about now.