Forgotten & Remembered: The Duke's Late Wife (Love's Second Chance Book 1)

by Bree Wolf

  When the sound of a door opening reached their ears, they both flinched.

  Instantly, he dropped her hand, eyes searching the corridor. Although no one was in sight, footsteps approached quickly.

  Rosabel knew they had to make a decision fast. Would he join her in her bedchamber? She wondered. Or would he−?

  “Someone is coming,” he said, eyes darting left and right before settling on hers. “You should go inside.” As his eyes left hers and he leaned over to open the door for her, Rosabel’s heart sank.

  As though nothing had happened, he bowed to her and quickly walked away, opened the door to his own chambers and disappeared inside.

  Although she considered going after him, Rosabel entered her own quarters and closed the door. Why had he not come in? She wondered, feeling a stab of rejection. Did he not desire her after all?

  Tears pooled in the corners of her eyes and spilled forth as a heart-wrenching sob escaped her throat. Throwing herself on her bed, Rosabel wept until exhaustion took over and closed her eyes.

  In her dreams, however, she felt the touch of his hands and the caress of his lips. Hugging her pillow, she smiled.

  Chapter Thirty - A Foolish Woman

  The days following their kiss, her husband again returned to avoiding her. Usually, such a treatment would strengthen her resolve and ignite the flame of anger, making her more daring. But then and there, Rosabel was exhausted. This war was costing her. She felt tired and worn out. If she could not get through to him any time soon, would she be forced to surrender? Would she forfeit and leave the battlefield?

  Desperate for a distraction, Rosabel gathered Georgiana, and they spent the day at her old home. Ellie and her younger cousins were delighted to see them, and the afternoon progressed far into the evening. Night had already fallen before they finally returned home.

  With Ellie’s encouragements echoing in her mind, Rosabel spent the night in deep slumber, finally regaining some of the energy she had invested thus far. Waking refreshed, she ventured down to breakfast, disappointed, but not surprised, at her husband’s absence.

  However, when she returned to her room, the door stood open. Stepping inside, she found Bridget and another maid packing her things while two footmen were already carrying her trunk out the door and down the corridor. “What is going on here?” she breathed, feeling an iron grip settling around her heart. “Why are you packing my things?”

  Bridget looked at her with open eyes, clearly surprised she didn’t know. “For the journey,” she said.

  “What journey?”

  Clearly uncomfortable, Bridget said, “Back to Westmore.”

  Her knees turned to pudding, and Rosabel sank into her favourite armchair. How could he do this? Shaking her head, Rosabel snorted. How could she have been so foolish? Nothing had changed. He still loved Leonora. Only Leonora. And whatever had happened between them in the kitchen downstairs had only served to remind him that no other woman could ever replace the only one he had ever truly loved. Tears came to Rosabel’s eyes, and she didn’t bother to hide them.

  Bridget ushered the other maid from the room. “I’m sorry, Your Grace. Is there anything I can do?”

  Looking up, Rosabel was about to shake her head, when the door flew open, and Georgiana rushed inside. The little girl’s face held the same shocked, tear-streaked expression that Rosabel knew was visible on her own. Rushing toward her, Rosabel took her in her arms, holding her close.

  “Father is sending us back,” Georgiana sobbed. “Why doesn’t he like me?”

  Again Rosabel’s heart broke. “Listen, I will go to your father and speak to him,” she whispered, despite feeling the hopelessness of their situation as a new ache in her broken heart. “I’m sure this is a misunderstanding.”

  Georgiana nodded, and Bridget drew her away so Rosabel could leave. Drying her tears, Rosabel quickly smoothed back her dress. Then she took a deep breath and headed to her husband’s study. However, for once he was not there, and it wasn’t until after searching half the house that Hanson told her he had gone to the stables.

  Hurrying outside, Rosabel hoped she would catch him before he could once again run away.

  ***

  The smell of fresh hay and manure reached her nose upon entering the stables. Walking down the long aisle framed by boxes on each side, Rosabel found herself the centre of attention as her husband’s prized horses came to investigate who had come and if there was any chance for snagging a treat. Long arched necks bent over the boxes’ doors, their heads stretched toward her. Patting a nose here and there, Rosabel quickly moved on. In the far back of the stable that opened to the paddock and farther down led around the outbuildings to the far-reaching grounds of Camden Hall, she spotted Storm, her husband’s horse. Henry, the new groom bowed to her and mumbled ‘Your Grace’ before lifting the saddle up and placing it on Storm’s back.

  From inside Storm’s box her husband appeared, eyes barely meeting hers. “Is there anything I can do for you, my lady?” he asked, his attention focused on his horse. The cut on his cheek was healing well, and since he was planning to ride out, his shoulder had to be too.

  Anger flared, and Rosabel felt the desperate need to slap him. “You could tell me why you are sending us away?”

  For a second, he glanced at her, then shrugged. “When you arrived, I made it clear that your staying here was only temporary. I do not understand the confusion.”

  Stomping toward him, Rosabel was at a loss for words. Unfortunately, he had a point. However, after everything that had happened, she had simply assumed that he had accepted if not welcomed their presence. How foolish of her!

  Fidgeting with the saddle, Henry looked the picture of discomfort as he pretended not to hear what was spoken. As though suddenly realizing they had an audience, her husband dismissed him, and he hurried away, almost tripping over his feet as he went.

  Trying to calm her nerves, Rosabel took a deep breath. Georgiana, she thought. This was not about herself. She had to succeed for Georgiana. She could not allow the little girl to lose her father, as mule-headed as he was. Oh, how she missed Helen in that moment! The old woman would know exactly how to handle him.

  “By sending her away, you’re breaking her heart,” she said, speaking as much about her daughter as about herself. “How can you do such a thing?”

  For a moment, his eyes closed, then he looked up and came toward her. “You have noted on many occasions that I am lacking as a father, so I deem it best to remove her from my company.”

  Not expecting such a revelation, Rosabel stared at him. Although she wanted to argue, a part of her realized that he had twisted her words on purpose. Apparently, he was willing to use any means necessary to rid himself of them. “Do you not care what happens to us?” she whispered, feeling new tears threatening.

  Not flinching under her gaze, he shrugged. “You will be provided for.”

  Rosabel snapped, “You know that is not what I meant! How can you not care?”

  His eyes narrowed, turning a darker shade of blue. Suddenly, Rosabel felt reminded of the cold she had seen there in the beginning. He took a step toward her, pinning her with his gaze. “I told you before that the only reason I married you was to provide Georgiana with a mother.”

  Rosabel’s mouth fell open as he spoke the words.

  He shook his head. “I cannot fathom why this should bother you? You did not strike me as a woman foolish enough to seek a love match.”

  Again his words felt like a slap in the face. What had happened that he now spoke to her without any emotions? The night in the kitchen he had gazed at her almost lovingly, and now…now everything was different. If she only knew what she had done wrong, what she had done to anger him, to drive him away. Or had she been mistaken? Had it merely been a passion sparked in the moment? And gone the next?

  As her emotions threatened to undo her, Rosabel drew on the small flame of anger that still burned in her chest. Eyes narrowing into slits, lips pressed in
to a thin line, she approached him. “I curse the day we met,” she hissed, drew back her arm and slapped him hard across the face.

  While he still stared at her, his hand traveling to the red mark slowly spreading across his cheek, Rosabel turned away. She was about to run out of the stables, when a thought struck.

  Instantly she changed directions, ran the few steps toward Storm, swung herself into the saddle with more ease than she would ever have expected and kicked the horse’s flanks. Storm reared and jumped forward, with Rosabel clinging to the saddle.

  In seconds, they had reached the open meadow, leaving the stable and her husband behind.

  ***

  Staring after his wife, Graham stood stock-still. What had just happened? Realizing that their relationship, just like his to Leonora, was built on a shaky foundation that threatened to bury them all when it collapsed, Graham had decided to do the right thing. For weeks he had postponed sending them away. While he dreaded their company and evaded them wherever possible, he had more and more come to depend on their presence. The house did not feel as empty as when they were not there. He could almost pretend he had a family. More than once he had stood in the door watching Rosabel and Georgiana reading a book, chatting over tea or painting. A new warmth had spread through his chest upon these occasions, and he had wished for nothing more than to be able to join them.

  However, what he wanted did not matter. He had a duty. He could not run from that, and so he had decided to run from his wife. Or rather send her away. He knew it was cowardly, and yet, he saw no other way.

  Never would he have thought, she’d react in this way. Seeing her and the horse grow smaller as they flew across the meadow approaching the forest line, Graham turned and ran to the nearest box. Opening the door, he threw a bridle on Winter, didn’t bother with a saddle and swung himself on the horse. While his shoulder was healing nicely, it still sent a small stab of pain down his side.

  Cringing, he urged the mare on, hearing her hooves thunder on the path before entering the grassland stretching out before them. The wind whipped in his face as he drew up on the small hill leading down to the forest. For a second his eyes focused on the dark clouds gathering in the east before he once again kicked the mare’s flanks and they flew forward.

  Chapter Thirty-One - A Memory to Behold

  Tears blurring her vision, Rosabel clung to Storm’s mane, letting him run free. He carried her through an ocean of grass stretching on both sides to the horizon in the distance. Dark clouds were gathering in the east, a looming threat, ready to descend upon her at any moment. However, Rosabel turned her head, ignoring nature’s warning, and spurred Storm on.

  Feeling the wind brush over her face, even nippier now that the sun was disappearing behind overhanging clouds, Rosabel had no destination in mind. She only felt the desperate need to get away. Away from Camden Hall. Away from the complications of her everyday life. And most importantly, away from her husband.

  Not in her wildest dreams had Rosabel ever believed such a life would await her. Although unwelcome, an arranged marriage was nothing out of the ordinary. Few people ever married for love. However, some were fortunate to realize that the one they were bound to even possessed their heart. Eventually.

  But even without love, Rosabel could have accepted a marriage built on respect and honesty. A husband who might have become a friend, someone she knew, someone she could trust.

  The marriage she found herself in though was far from exemplary and not even fulfilled the basic requirements.

  Leaving behind the open fields, Storm carried her into the forest. As they travelled down a well-trodden path, Rosabel realized that they were not moving at a break-neck speed anymore. Storm had adjusted his movements to the terrain, growing denser the deeper into the forest they proceeded. But Rosabel didn’t mind, her thoughts occupied with more pressing matters than the speed of their travels.

  While Rosabel had to admit that she had come to care for her husband, deeply even, he obviously held no such feelings for her in his heart. Certainly, he might desire her occasionally, but his interest in her never went beyond desires of the flesh. He did not care for her happiness or her well-being.

  Admitting the truth made her heart ache, and tears spilled down her cheeks. Not bothering to brush them away, Rosabel sobbed quietly, hearing the echo of her breaking heart in the forest sounds around her.

  As the sky slowly darkened, she heard a howl hoot here and there, a chilling breeze carrying its screeches to her ears. The wind picked up, tugging at her dress and blowing her hair in her face. As the chill crept up her arms, Rosabel began to shiver. Looking around, she realized how far she had travelled and that she would not make it back before the rain would pour from the heavens.

  When the first drop fell, Rosabel urged Storm on. Knowing that she would get wet no matter what, she decided to put as much distance between herself and her husband as she possibly could. Where she was going she didn’t know, didn’t even think about. All that mattered was to get away.

  Maybe he would rejoice if she left him for good.

  ***

  Already soaked through, Graham squinted through the downpour, knowing that he couldn’t turn back. She was his wife; he had to find her.

  Following the only trail that led through the forest, he hoped that she had stayed on the path and not ventured through the thick underbrush. If she had, he knew he would never find her.

  Why was she acting in such an irrational manner? Did she not see that he was doing what was best for all of them? Although there had been moments that had indeed resembled those of his happy childhood, he knew that the burden he carried on his shoulders was starting to affect them too. Not only his wife but Georgiana also had grown quieter and more solemn in his presence. The light that usually shone in Georgiana’s eyes had slowly dimmed each day she spent in his company. She loved him; he knew that. But it didn’t matter. Ultimately, he would make her unhappy, and she would come to resent him for it. Better to make a clean cut now.

  But how could he make his wife see this? She was so determined to reunite him with Georgiana. Could she not see that the happy family she clearly had in mind was not to be? How could he make her understand?

  Slowly the trees grew fewer and farther apart. Leaving behind the thickness of the forest, Graham lifted his hand to shield his eyes. Peering through the sheets of rain pummelling the earth, he spotted a huge willow tree down in the small valley stretching out before him, standing like a sole sentinel on the shores of a small lake. Under that tree a small figure huddled close to the trunk.

  Surveying the terrain, Graham urged Winter on, allowing the mare to find her footing down the slippery hill. Slowly, she carried him down through the thick grass and muddy earth toward the lone tree.

  As he drew closer, the figure turned. Even from a distance, Graham could see the resentment in her posture as she took a step back, shoulders squared and chin raised in defiance. If he could, he would have turned back.

  Not spotting Storm anywhere in the vicinity, Graham peered at her more closely. Here and there mud stained her dress, and a small cut ran from her forehead to her temple.

  She had been thrown.

  Feeling his heart beat against his ribs, Graham slid off the horse. Now no more than a few feet away from her, he tied Winter’s reins to a low-hanging branch and stepped toward his wife.

  With eyes as dark as he had ever seen them, she snarled at him, “Get out! Leave me alone!”

  “I cannot do that, my lady,” he replied, wondering how she could be so reckless. The rain still drummed down all around them. She had no horse to carry her home. And besides being soaked through and through and in danger of catching pneumonia, she now had a head injury as well.

  “Do not pretend you care about what happens to me!” she hissed, regarding him with disgust. Never had he seen such dark emotions in her.

  “I do care,” he said, feeling his own anger rise at her complete lack of reason. “You are my wife.�
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  She snorted, “I am your wife, yes, but only on paper. You do not care for me. If I died out here in this weather, you would probably rejoice at ridding yourself of me so easily.”

  Her words stung, and Graham stepped forward, brushing wet hair out of his face. “Are you mad, woman?” he snapped. “Have you lost your mind?” He glanced at the small trickle of blood running down the side of her face. “I should take you home.” He reached out his hand for her, but she slapped it away, stepping back, pressing herself to the trunk of the huge tree as though seeking protection. The way she looked at him as though he was the enemy drove him mad.

  Planting himself before her, his eyes narrowed. “Whether you like it or not, I am your husband, and you will do as I say, understood?” Again he held out his hand to her, and again she refused to take it.

  Shaking her head, she drew even closer to the tree, her eyes fixing on him, their icy stare piercing his heart. “What kind of a man are you? How dare you treat others like this? I am your wife, but that does not matter to you, does it? Did you treat Leonora the same way? Did you try to get rid of her too?”

  At her words, a chill crept up his spine. Hearing his first wife’s name spoken aloud felt like a punch in the gut, and he nearly toppled over. Leaning forward, he steadied himself, resting his hands on the tree’s trunk. He lowered his head and glared into his wife’s eyes, now fluttering at finding herself trapped between the tree and her husband. “You will not say her name,” he snarled, their noses almost touching. “Do you understand? Never!”

  The tone in his voice made her flinch, but she didn’t try to extract herself from her current position. Instead, she raised her chin a hint and met his eyes head-on. “Did she ever want to leave? Because I do. The only thing keeping me here is Georgiana.” She spoke with an even and quiet voice, barely audible over the drumming of the rain.