Absolute Surrender (16 page)

“I…yes. Together. I
’
m not sure it
’
s my place to tell you of Jackson’s thoughts on this. I—”

“I
’
m quite sure that this involves me, and you
’
ll tell me everything you know, as will he. When I speak with him.
Do
continue.
”

“Jacks came here out of concern, because of the episode today. He was concerned, as he should be, as to whether the position of duchess would be suitable to your…temperament.”

“My
temperament
. Damn you twice, Hubert Garrison! If you tiptoe around me I shall take you on and you
’
ll be sorry for it.”

“Apologies, Amelia, I…I
’
m simply feeling more cautious than normal.”

“
Well, stop. Just
…stop. Now explain. In no uncertain terms.”

“Yes…yes, Jacks was concerned that the responsibility of the duchy would be too great for you after witnessing the episode today. He doesn
’
t want to force something on you that you
’
re unable to do, that would somehow damage you further. He has a great responsibility to the crown and…well, that
’
s the plain of it.” Hugh looked away from her, scrubbed one hand through his hair before studying his shoes. “I
’
m sorry.”

Damage me further.
Charles saw her as damaged.
They
saw her as damaged.

“Don
’
t be,” she whispered. “It
’
s what I asked for. Thank you.” She sat for a moment to consider. He was right, Charles was. He was absolutely right to take her behavior into consideration. His duchy was a powerful one, close to the queen. The title required much of him, as her title would require much of her, were she his duchess. She
’
d considered this in the past, of
course
she had. But she
’
d hoped
he
would never have need to consider it. She wasn
’
t sure whether she could manage a dukedom. The simple of it, of course, the households, the staff, all the simple necessaries required of her, absolutely. It was the extended requirements, the parties, the celebrations, the requirements to London, the presentations, the official—
and quite formal
—productions that would be required of her.

It was too much to ask that she be a silent partner. A duchess was required to support her duke, to take on the tasks considered more menial, so he would be free to deal with the much more difficult tasks required by his queen.

As well, there must be children. This fact weighed heavy on her mind. Not that she didn
’
t want children. She did. And she knew to her toes that she wanted his. But carrying a child within, when even she wasn
’
t comfortable in her own skin, to share that space with another being? This confounded and frightened her.

She turned to Hugh. “He has every right to be concerned. These are my concerns as well. I had hoped that in courting, we would discover if my difficulties would be an issue. I had hoped, in attending functions of the
ton
at his side, that I would be able to discern whether this could be done. I had such great hopes, Hugh…” Her tears fell then, poured from her like water from a sieve. “Such great hopes.”

He wrapped himself around her like a blanket and took her into the safety of himself. She soaked in that safety she was so fond of. “What
’
s to become of my mother?” she whispered.

Hugh bristled at that, but he breathed through the anger, then waited a very patient moment before responding. “Amelia, your mother is not of our concern. You are.”

“I…what? What did I say?” she asked quietly as she pulled the handkerchief from his pocket, the one that was always there, and wiped her eyes and nose.

“You asked what would become of your mother, Amelia. Your mother. Not you—her. She
’
s not our concern, beyond the pressure she places squarely on your shoulders. This”—he motioned between them and the door, where Jackson waited on the other side—“this is between the three of us. This is about you and nobody else. Your mother is not a concern.”

“But she must be. She
’
ll have nowhere and no one.”

“If she has no one, that
’
s her own doing, not yours. And if she has nowhere to go, it will be because she drove everyone away from her.”

“I can
’
t
not
consider her in my actions, Hugh. You must understand.”

“I of all people understand how heavily this weighs on you. You know this. We
’
ll deal with your mother somehow. We will…” Hugh shifted, considering a decision that was quite monumental. “
I
will ensure she is cared for, regardless of what happens next. This, I vow to you.”

Her eyes crept to his, and a weight transferred. Her lightening was nearly visible in the consignation of responsibility, and he knew the decision had been the right one. “I
’
ll see to her personally, if need be.”

He held her for a time, let her take in everything he
’
d promised to her. Time to consider everything that had passed between them. He knew she needed quiet moments like this, time between, to rethink, re-examine, reconsider all that had come before. When she straightened, he knew she
’
d come to her decision.

“If I allow you to do this for me, there is one other thing you must do.”

He nodded, acceded, regardless that he was nervous.

“You mustn
’
t hold back.”

His breath left him, and then she moved. Her hand curled around his neck, pulled him toward her, brought his lips within a breath of hers, until he closed his eyes, and they met. A coming together. Not one or the other, but an agreement, and then the blaze. She whimpered, and he drove, pulling her flush to his chest. Allowing her hands to rove where they might. Allowing her tongue to rove where it would. And rove her tongue did, sliding against his, tasting him, tasting his lips, tasting the tears that slid down his cheeks before he
’
d a chance to hide them.

He did as she asked. He did not hold back.

Charles waited. More patiently than he ever had. He thought as much anyway. He could not remember a time more difficult than this. He knew he’d been right to stand first and leave them, to allow Ender to explain to Amelia what had happened. He didn
’
t yet feel strong enough to be able to confront her, to explain himself…without stumbling over himself somehow. Particularly after this afternoon in her parlor. Just the thought of Amelia touching him—it had tied him in knots that he wanted her to unwind.

Charles paced, the soft murmur of their conversation coming through the door lulling him somewhat. Then the murmur of conversation stopped, bringing him to a halt as well. He watched the door, but it didn
’
t open to him. He closed his eyes and swore he would trust in Endsleigh. Charles would trust Ender to be the man he now believed him to be. Charles would trust him to explain their decision to Amelia in a way that didn
’
t paint him badly. Charles’s eyes opened on the realization that no matter what Ender said, he was bound to look the fool in this situation.

Charles shook his head and paced again. Glanced back at the door…it was so quiet.
Why is it so quiet?
Charles stopped and turned. Perhaps Ender had used this opportunity to his advantage. Perhaps Charles had had the wrong of it from the start. Perhaps—

The door opened, and Ender was there, looking quite sheepish and somewhat guilty. Charles’s
temper
snapped.

“
Wait!
” Ender shouted and raised his hands, but Charles didn
’
t wait. He lunged for Ender, taking him by the jacket and shoving him into the wall.

“
Wait
,” Ender said again, this time a bit more feebly, the wind knocked from him.

Charles heard Amelia running toward the door and knew a moment of terror that she would see him like this, angry as he was.

He glanced to the doorway, telling his hands to release Ender, but they weren
’
t cooperating. They pushed harder. Charles saw her emerge, like a wraith, her hand resting on his forearm, pulling him away. Charles was helpless in her presence. His body bent to her bidding without so much as an acquiescence from his mind.

He released Ender and followed her into the library. He heard Ender coughing, then the sturdy click of the door closing behind them as she pulled him to that chaise. Not the two chairs, which is what he would have assumed at this point. Two chairs, a specific barrier, the easier to keep space between them. The easier to break with him. Blood thundered in his head as she gently guided him then sat, patting the space next to her. Awaiting his decision.

Charles stared at it, attempted to discern the meaning, then looked at her. Her lips were that rosy flush again, but this time that flush wasn
’
t his fault.

She placed her hand on the space next to her, then pulled gently on his hand, silently coaxed him to sit with her, while his eyes never left her.

Betrayed
.

It was the only word that came to Charles’s mind, like a whisper. He
’
d lost her, and he
’
d never even been given the chance for a proper fight. Charles tensed to stand again, to take Endsligh on, but her hands wrapped around his wrist to stay him.

Charles eased and looked back to her. “Please…” Please what? He wasn
’
t even sure what he wanted with that plea. To turn back time perhaps.

“Charles.” His gaze turned to hers, and she had him. “I
’
m quite unsure of what happens next. I imagine one, or all of us, will come away quite damaged from this. However, if you will endeavor to try, I believe in my heart that what you want will come to pass.”

I want you for my wife

I want nothing more than your happiness.