She unsuccessfully stifled a sob. “Love is not a game, Your Grace. I gave you my heart and you threw it back at me in a million pieces. How can we overcome that?” Alice stumbled past him, ignoring the glance of his fingers along her arm, and she gained the door, gasping for breath, struggling to breathe past the pain. “I’m sorry I ever met you; that I ever fell for you.”
“What we share is still good.” His cry speared through her chest. “I saw that the moment Lady Cecily touched me.”
“But you kissed her anyway.” She shook her head. “I must get away and think, but know this.” She jerked open the door. “If you cannot love and accept yourself, you will never love anyone else, neither will you understand what it is to be human, cursed or not. And that is the crux of your current angst.”
And once more, she fled from her husband.
She went as far as the private parlor set aside for family use when she ran fully into the hard chest of a man who smelled of cedarwood and cinnamon—the Earl of Devon.
“Pardon me, my lord. I’m somewhat distraught and not myself.”
“I know. Elizabeth told me, sent me an immediate summons.” Instead of sending her on her way, he wrapped an arm about her waist and ushered her into the parlor. A growl sounded behind them—Donovan. Then the earl said, “Give her time. Find yourself before you make things worse.”
“She is my wife,” the duke protested on a shout.
“Then treat her as such. I refuse to let you destroy the one good thing you’ve ever done like your father did. You might not care, but I do.” The hard edge to his voice surprised her, for she’d never heard the earl speak in anger. “Elizabeth, please take your brother in hand while I speak with the duchess.”
“Thank you for being here, Rafe. It is… pleasant when you concentrate on Donovan instead of me.” Elizabeth’s soft tones promoted calm.
His sigh was barely audible. “Perhaps, one day…” The words were so quiet Alice hardly caught them.
Then the brush of skirting against hers made Alice aware of Elizabeth’s brief presence before the parlor door closed and the earl guided her to a settee. He gently pushed her onto the piece of furniture and then sat beside her.
“Here.” He pressed a cup of tepid tea into her hand. “Elizabeth and I had a meeting this morning to discuss how to help when we heard of Donovan’s return and subsequent landing in the drink.”
Alice appreciated the beverage as much as the support. “Thank you. I… I must look a fright.” She wanted to concentrate on why his voice sounded so sad and resigned, but her husband occupied her thoughts. “It has been a trying few days.”
He chuckled. “You look as one would expect in such circumstances. I apologize for Donovan. I had hoped… well, it is neither here nor there.”
“I should forgive him. I know this, but he isn’t sorry for what he did. He doesn’t love me, so what good will it do?” She sipped at the lukewarm tea.
“Give you peace while he works through his feelings enough to pull his head from his arse.” The earl patted her free hand. “He’s conflicted. I’ve never seen him like that before, and that, my dear, is a good sign.”
Alice laid the teacup onto the low table before her. “I’d like to believe that, but my heart hurts too much.”
“What can I do?”
“Nothing, except talking sense into your friend.”
“I’ll do what I can, but he is still your husband.” His voice was kind and there was a smile in the tone.
“Yes.” And she was bound to him for the rest of her life. Without love. Such was her lot. “Do you think he is finished with the mistress?”
“I believe he is. Duchess, you must understand your husband has changed from the man I once knew. Even if you can’t—or won’t—see it.”
Her chin quivered. Now that Donovan’s friend vouched for him, she felt doubly bad she hadn’t given him the chance to talk when he asked for it. “He doesn’t love me, my lord. I doubt he ever will.”
“You’re wrong.” He took her hand and held it between both of hers.
A tear splashed to her cheek. “He wouldn’t have kissed that woman if he did.” With her free hand she wiped at the moisture. “Never has he said he loved me. That is telling, is it not?”
The earl snorted. “Donovan’s afraid. It has always made him retreat into himself.” He sighed. “I’m not saying it’s right, but he must learn a different way of living and it’s undoubtedly thrown him into confusion and fear.”
“Mayhap. I am feeling all of those things, too. I need him, now more than ever, but if he doesn’t feel the same…” A shuddering sigh escaped her and she willed away any more tears. “I must move forward, as I always have. But I am adamant I cannot stay here.”
“That’s understandable. What will you do?” He squeezed her fingers.
“I suppose I’ll go to his country estate.”
The earl inhaled sharply. “Kimbolton Castle in Cambridgeshire?”
“If that is where the duke’s estate is, then yes.” It was yet another thing he hadn’t discussed with her. “From there, I’ll re-tie the threads of my life. Perhaps I’ll make plans for my school.” Despite her personal vow of no more tears, a sob raced through her and escaped. “I’ll learn to live without him… just the way he wished it.”
“There, there.” The earl wrapped an arm about her shoulders, and when she turned into him, he let her cry into his cravat. “I wish you luck, and if at any time you need me, please write. I will do what I can to ease you into this next stage of your life.”
She nodded. “Thank you. Please don’t let Donovan destroy himself. There’s still good inside him, even if he doesn’t believe it.”
And mayhap that tiny kernel, if coaxed out, could blossom into something more with time.
CHAPTER TWENTY
October 5, 1815
Donovan’s whole life was falling apart.
Every breath he took brought him pain, and not from any physical wound. No, he suffered from internal injuries brought about by his own stupidity and arrogance. His wife was leaving, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
That’s a lie. You can tell her how you feel, his wolf said with a healthy dose of disappointment in the response.
Easy for the beast to say. I don’t know how I feel!
Another lie. His wolf snorted. You tell so many you don’t know what’s truth. Haven’t you pitied yourself enough? Stop using me as an excuse to hide from life.
Perhaps human beings are not as strong or wise as wolves. I am failing miserably.
His wolf kept his own counsel.
Would that he could hide as he stood outside Alice’s suite of rooms. The corridor was full of activity with servants running to and fro between the suite and a staging area in the downstairs entry hall. His chest tightened and the ache about his heart intensified. Elizabeth was angry with him, if the glares she sent his way from the sitting room were any indication. His wolf was disappointment and annoyance personified—if he were a human. Rogue had proverbially washed his hands of him after a failed conversation yesterday. Alice was hurt and broken, all because he couldn’t work through the tangled knots of his emotions and core beliefs. He had wronged everyone he cared for in his life, and there’d been no excuse for it. He saw that now. Plus, he was still connected to his damned beast.
Yet, was it the horrible situation he once thought? Since the advent of Alice, he’d somehow become more respectable, more accepted in some aspects of society.
Why can she not accept me too, flaws and all?
Absently, he rubbed the skin over his heart through his clothing. Why the devil was that organ acting finicky as of late? Surely he was too young to have it attack him.
You are a bacon-brained idiot, human. His wolf snuffled. You are in love with your wife. Admit it.
Bah! Love for someone like me is folly. Donovan pushed off from the wall. As he entered the sitting room, Elizabeth stood up from her position on a settee. She held a leather folio in her ha
nd, but her eyes narrowed.
“I hope you’re pleased, you selfish bastard,” she said by way of greeting while she strode over the floor. When she reached him, she drilled a forefinger into his chest. “She is the best thing you ever managed to do for yourself, and you’ve destroyed her like you do everything—everyone—else.”
“But I—”
“No.” She shook her head. “You have forfeited your right to explain. Because I refuse to lose a sister, I’ll accompany her to the castle. You manage your bloody social life alone. I’m fairly certain you don’t appreciate me either.”
“Elizabeth, don’t be like that. You know how it is.”
“That doesn’t mean it always has to be so. You men!” She uttered a sound of annoyed rage. “Every misstep or mistake cannot be placed on the curse. Every vile thing you men do isn’t because of it. Take responsibility for you own actions, for beneath it all, you are human. Own that if you cannot do anything else. Yes, you’ve failed, but being human also means making amends and starting again. It means asking for and receiving forgiveness and learning there is more than one way to do things.” Without another word, she swept from the room. The angry tap-tap of her heels echoed long after she was gone.
You’re right, Elizabeth. Dear Lord, I need help. Yet why wasn’t he strong enough to ask for it?
Griggs and a footman gathering luggage both eyed him askance before departing the room, and he sank further into the morass of his own creation. Alice had made a lasting impression on every person in his household, brought life back to the townhouse. Now, with her defection, would all of that go with her? A lonely future stretched out before him, and it terrified him.
His feet felt made of stone as he moved toward the adjoining bedroom door. With the veriest incline of his chin, he sent the maid scurrying from the room, her eyes wide and fearful. Finally, he was alone with his wife, the woman he’d wronged in so many ways, the only person to completely upend his world with a glance, a laugh, a kiss—her steadfast love.
Oh, God.
Alice glanced up from a trunk she knelt before. Mid-afternoon sunlight streamed around her, making her ethereal than ever before. She said nothing. After all, hadn’t she said everything she could yesterday?
Words danced on the tip of his tongue, but pride and arrogance kept him from uttering any of them. Why should he? She was rejecting him anyway, just as every woman did. He wasn’t good enough, human enough, so why should he unbend enough to appear vulnerable—to let her wound him further?
To let her help him?
Yet he raked his gaze over her person as she rose to her feet as stately as any duchess born to the role could be. Again she wore the gown of silver satin and he couldn’t help but think she was unconsciously on her way to donning mourning colors. But her expression was wan and pale. Faint purple smudges marred the skin beneath her eyes and her curly chestnut hair didn’t gleam as it once had.
I did that to her. His chest ached. It was much like seeing an abandoned, crushed flower on an empty country lane.
Finally, he cleared his throat and moistened his lips. “Have you finished packing?” Damn, what a stupid thing to ask.
“Almost.” Her shrug pulled her bodice across the soft swell of her breasts. How had he never seen it before how delicate yet strong she was, how perfectly she fit against him when they came together, how she’d tried to guide him? “Have you come to say goodbye?” The dulcet tones, once so lively and full of excitement for the world around her, now rang flat and tired. She’d given up.
Goodbye was such a final thing… and it scared him. His life had already seen too many of them. “I came to…” What? Why exactly had he come after what he’d done, what he’d said?
Tell her the truth. Bare your soul before it’s too late, his wolf urged.
Perhaps it is already too late. There was no sparkle in her eyes. “You are truly leaving?”
“I am.” She folded a shawl—the same garment she’d loaned him all those days ago—and then put it into the trunk. “At the moment, it’s for the best.”
For who? The rejection stung. How could it not? Out of all of them in his circle, he never thought she’d turn from him, yet they all had because he’d pushed them away. He gritted his teeth against the growing ache around his heart. Not even Alice, with her love, could save him.
Please try one more time.
“I hope the trip is pleasant. No rain expected.” The pain of imminent loss throbbed through his veins and he searched about for something more erudite to say. There was nothing except the horrible need for her. I am a duke, damn it. Why can I not find the words she’s desperate to hear?
Because words aren’t actions, his wolf mocked.
“How fortunate.” She cast her gaze down. “If there’s nothing else, I should return to final preparations. I would like to arrive before nightfall.”
“Of course.” Donovan’s heart lurched. Inside his head, his wolf whined. The beast’s sadness was palpable and only increased his own. “Alice, please reconsider.” His voice rasped harsh with emotion. Please don’t leave. How could he survive without her when he’d come to depend on her unwavering support that made him better?
“You know I cannot.” She edged around the trunk but then halted her forward movement. “And you know why.”
He reeled as if she’d struck him. Guilt plowed through his gut in a cold wave. “I don’t want you to go.” It was as truthful as he’d ever been. “I need you to save me,” he added in a whisper.
A tiny smile curved her kissable lips, fading as soon as she gave it life. “For my benefit, or for yours?” When he remained silent, grappling with foreign emotions he couldn’t speak aloud, she continued. “Save yourself, Donovan.” Alice shook her head, her eyes reflecting grief. “Love yourself, for you cannot do the same for anyone else unless you square with who you really are, and I know it’s someone beyond the broken man you are now.”
There was a certain truth to her words. Why couldn’t she see that her love was what he needed to glue his pieces back together? The unexpected prickle of tears at the backs of his eyelids surprised him. Never had he been brought low with so much emotion. Never had he met a woman capable of putting him at such sixes and sevens. Never had he respected, appreciated—loved—any female more.
And he was losing her because he didn’t know how to live this new way.
“Alice…” He was falling and she wouldn’t be there to catch him.
His wolf was quick to argue. Isn’t that what you wanted? A wife to pack off to the country, out of sight, so you could continue your previous life?
Self-loathing, guilt and regret worked together to beat him bloody on the inside as he stared at her, his tongue tangled. I don’t want that life anymore. Donovan tried again to stave off the inevitable. “The man you are disgusted by, the man you are disappointed in, I am, too.” He rubbed a hand along his jaw. “Because of you, I’ve changed. I’m not that man any longer, and I’m grateful for it.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
“But this new man, he’s fragile and vulnerable like a baby bird, and I’m afraid.”
“You will learn.” She took a few steps toward him. “Do you love me?”
Tell her you do! His wolf strained at the edges of his mind, anxious to have the matter settled.
If he uttered those words, would she believe him? “I am quite fond of you, and adore spending time with you.” What the deuce was he doing? That wasn’t what he wanted—needed—to say to her. Yes, damn it, I think I’m tip over tail in love with you, but you’re leaving as if I don’t matter… And he’d lose face once he said those words.
Confliction clouded her eyes, but she shook her head again. “You haven’t changed that much if you won’t speak from the heart regardless of how it makes you appear.”
Damnation, she’d always had the ability to see into his mind.
“Donovan.” She smiled, and it was a sad affair that tugged at him. “You have to want the cha
nge for you too. Find your peace. Love yourself,” she said as she closed the distance and pressed herself close to him, her arms about his shoulders as she held his gaze with hers. “Once you do, come find me. I still want you, but not if you cannot know contentment with who—and what—you truly are. We all suffer hurts and setbacks, but only you can choose to use them as stepping stones for growth or let them weigh you down.” She kissed him, moved her lips over his, and the innocent finality of that gesture shredded his soul. Before he could wrap his arms about her, she pulled away.
Donovan nearly threw himself at her feet, wanted to beg her to stay and be his duchess in truth because he loved her, wanted her in all the ways that mattered, but his damn pride flared and he kept quiet, much to the annoyance of his wolf, who howled long and mournfully in his head. If he said those magic words to her now and she still rejected him, how could he live with himself? His wolf would remain and she would leave.
I cannot survive with only the beast any longer.
“Very well then.” He stepped away, out of her reach, and as a single tear slid down the slope of her pale cheek, he willed himself not to react. Her actions spoke loud as well. She would leave because she didn’t love him enough—for himself. “No matter our differences, we both gaze at the same moon every night, Alice. I’ll remember you when I have no choice but to become the beast. I hope you’ll do the same.”
Coward. His wolf turned his back on him.
I might be exactly that, but this hurt is infinitely better than handing her my heart and having her trample it.
Yet he didn’t know how it could hurt more.
“I will.” Another tear fell, and that singular drop had the power to make him come undone. “You are so loved,” she whispered in a ragged breath that broke on the last word. “Why can you not allow yourself to see this?”
He straightened his spine. “Safe travels.” With an aching heart that felt as if it had been splayed asunder, Donovan quit the room.
Moisture blurred his vision as he tore through the halls. Griggs attempted to waylay him, but he ignored the butler. Nothing could take this terrible pain from his chest, the agony that went so deep his soul cried out from the destruction worse than what he experienced while transforming into the wolf.
Devil Take the Duke (Lords of the Night Book 1) Page 23