Invitation to Ruin (36 page)

“Just love her.” She closed the door softly behind her.

T
he next afternoon, Anthony infused himself with courage.

He lowered his head, then walked with measured paces to the door of the morning room, opened it, and entered, shutting the door behind him. Melissa had refused to see him last night, citing exhaustion. He was sure it had been an excuse. As the day progressed, it was obvious she was trying to avoid him. He’d not seen her all morning.

Enough was enough. His guilt, and fear of what she would tell him, had stopped him from acting sooner. Melissa could not continue to ignore him, ignore their marriage. What hurt him more than anything was the thought that she might blame herself for anything Rothsay might have done to her. She had done nothing wrong. Everything was his fault. He hadn’t protected her.

The doctor said Rothsay had not raped her, but Rothsay’s taunts about his wife echoed constantly in his head. He couldn’t bear to think Melissa had been tainted by any of Rothsay’s perversions. It would be one more sin he could never atone for.

The door clicked shut. He heard her start and move in her chair.

He turned from the door to face her and met her gaze with cool determination. She looked away. He closed his eyes and willed himself to continue. They had to face the aftermath of
his desertion and her abduction. They couldn’t, or he wouldn’t, continue as they were.

His tongue seemed to swell in his mouth. He didn’t know what to say to her. “Good afternoon, Melissa. I hope you are fully recovered from your ordeal. I missed you at breakfast this morning.” God, he was lame.

She refused to look him in the eye. “I did not feel like food this morning.”

Earlier, Anthony had heard her through the open door of the bedchamber adjoining his, retching. Theresa told him Melissa was violently ill most mornings, but by midday the nausea and dizziness passed.

“If you are hungry, I could organize a servant to fetch you something. A cup of tea perhaps?”

His inquiry seemed to startle her. She flashed him a quick look from under her beautiful, long, black eyelashes. “There is no need to pretend to play the part of the concerned husband.”

He tried to keep the impatience out of his voice. “But
I am
your concerned husband.”

“Really! That’s why I haven’t seen or heard from you in over six weeks,” she said bluntly.

He walked to stand by her chair, at a loss for words. She was right; he had ignored her, but she’d never been out of his thoughts, out of his dreams. He could see her anger in the way she held her body straight and taut in the chair. Getting her to forgive him was not going to be easy. “I think you need to stay and rest. You have been through quite an ordeal.”

He got down on his knees before her. Her eyes widened in surprise. He took one of her tiny hands in his, stroking her palm with his thumb. “Did he … did he hurt you?” Her eyes welled with tears, and she hung her head. His breath caught in his throat. “Did he …” he couldn’t get the words out. “Did he rape you, Melissa?”

Her anguished cry of “No,” filled the room. She tore her hand from his and leaped from her chair, moving to stare out
the window. He could hear his heart pounding in relief above the silence.

He moved to stand behind her, pulling her back against him. So softly, he almost didn’t hear her, she whispered, “I’m so sorry to disappoint, but if you want to get rid of me, you’ll not be able to use rape as an excuse,” she bit out bitterly.

Anger flashing through him, he swung her around to face him. “You must think me a monster to want my wife to be used by another man. Christ, Melissa.” He struggled for control. “I would never wish that experience on any woman. Especially my wife.”

   She heard the pain in his voice. She instinctively raised her hand and stroked his face. His handsome face. How she had missed it. But it didn’t change anything. It didn’t change the fact he hadn’t wanted her. He’d saved her out of obligation and duty. She meant nothing to him.

   “I have already ordered Theresa to pack my things. I assume you wish me to return to Bressington as soon as possible.” Her voice was unnervingly quiet.

He couldn’t tell whether the prospect of leaving him saddened her or not. “Do you want to return to Bressington?”

At his question she raised her lovely hazel eyes and looked directly at him. “I don’t want to be in your way.” He noted her movement. She tenderly rested her hand on her stomach.

He’d asked the doctor and Theresa not to inform Melissa that he knew about the pregnancy. He wanted her to tell him herself. “Is there something you wish to tell me?” he asked softly.

“Only that I shall be inviting Lady Albany to stay with me at Bressington for a while. I hope that doesn’t break the conditions of my banishment.”

“Do you hate me that much?”

Her voice rose as her anger grew. “How can you think that? I’ve done everything in my power to make you want me. But you’ve made it very plain you have no feelings for me.

You never really wanted me, and now I’m sure you deeply regret ever marrying me.”

Anthony paused and looked at her, really looked at her. He clearly saw what she had tried to hide from view all her life. She wanted to matter, desperately wanted to be loved. His heart swelled to overflowing. He so very much wanted to be the man whom she’d allow to love her.

“I’ve never regretted anything less in my life.” He paused. “I have so many regrets; I don’t know where to begin. But marrying you was not one of them. It’s the smartest thing I’ve ever done.”

   Her brain attempted to understand the words she was hearing. His hair was tousled, and his silky fringe was shielding his eyes. She longed to brush it aside. His eyes could not shield his true thoughts from her. She tried very hard not to let his beauty distract her. He was trying to tell her something important, she was sure. “But you don’t love me. You’ve never loved me. You pushed me away,” she said in an undertone of hurt.

Anthony reached up to touch her cheek. “I have been such a fool. I have made many mistakes in my life.” Her breath caught as his thumb brushed the corner of her mouth. “Some I will never be forgiven for. Please tell me I’m not too late, that pushing you away has not lost me a second chance?”

In a daze, she sat back down on the large upholstered chair by the fire. He still had not told her he loved her. Anthony moved forward slowly until he stood in front of her, his gray eyes darkly mournful. He grabbed a footstool and sat down at her feet.

Melissa licked her lips, almost too scared to say the words, not wanting to hear the answer. “You would not be so cruel as to expect me to stay here with your mistress living under the same roof.”

“My mistress? What the hell are you talking about? I don’t have a mistress.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Cassandra. I know Cassandra is here. Don’t deny it.”

“Rufus has escorted Cassandra home and will see to it that she leaves England on the next boat and does not return for quite some time. If I ever see Cassandra again, I shall throttle the last breath out of her.”

“Mistresses appear to be easier to shed than wives,” she retorted.

   “I have never broken my promise to you. Cassandra has never shared my bed. She was here solely to help me find you. She is Rothsay’s plaything.” He watched the emotions play across her sweet face. She’d never looked more beautiful or more fragile. He moved closer, wanting to haul her into his arms. “I have not bedded another woman since I married you. Thoughts of you have been driving me mad during the day and haunting me at night. I do not wish to be rid of you, Melissa. I want you to be my wife in every sense of the word.”

Melissa’s hand went to her abdomen. “What about your reluctance to have children? I can’t simply be a vessel for your lust. That would destroy me. I’m not sure anything has really changed. You are simply relieved I am unhurt.”

Hope faded, and his heart grew heavy in his chest. To earn her forgiveness he was going to have to confess all. He knew what he was about to tell her would either help them heal or drive her away completely. His skin crawled with the thought he might lose her, but if he didn’t share his past with her, he’d lose her anyway.

“There is something important I wish to tell you.” He swallowed hard. His heart was pounding recklessly. He took a deep breath. “I need to tell you about my past. I’m not looking for pity, merely understanding. I’m hoping when you hear my tale, you might be able to forgive me.”

She sat above him like a marble statue, so beautiful his breath hitched in his throat. He felt physically ill at the prospect of her rejection, but he knew he was going to lose her if he didn’t say what needed to be said.

Her palm cradled his cheek. “You don’t need to do this.”

“I do. I want a new start. If you bless me with one, I won’t allow there to be any secrets.” He took her hand in his and got down on his knees before her. He had to prove to her that he’d share his life with her. All of it. The good and the ugly.

   “You once asked me how I got this scar.” He traced the deep groove on his left cheek. “I raped a woman, a girl really”—he stammered—”she was a black slave girl about the same age as I was at the time, fourteen.” His voice was so quiet she barely heard the words. All she concentrated on was the pain radiating from within the sounds.

“My father decided to introduce me to manhood, and she was my birthday present. I knew it was wrong. I could clearly see she was terrified. I refused his gift.” He all but spat the word. “But my father had other plans. It was to be another one of his lessons—the lesson of power. The strong conquering the weak. I was forced to do what my father wanted or he would have given her to his men and made me watch.” He drew an unsteady breath while Melissa observed every nuance of tormented emotion that flitted across his face.

“I knew what they would do to her. Even at that young age, I had heard enough women’s screams to last me a lifetime. I thought if it was me, and only me, she would not suffer as much. I would be gentle, and it would be over quickly.” His head dropped to his chest. “But it was worse than I could ever imagine. Her pitiful cries, the tears streaking her face, she struggled … And to my shame I reached my pleasure from the act.” He clenched his fists at his sides, shuddering. “You see you were correct in your assessment of me. I’m weak. I didn’t stand up to my father and help the girl.”

She thought of Rothsay and the choice he had given her. Inwardly she balked; there had been no choice. The emotional blackmail he applied by using Mary, the young girl, was far stronger than anything he physically could have inflicted upon her. Her heart went out to the young Anthony and the choice he was forced to make.

“Shhhh. You were fourteen years old. What could you have done against your father and his men? You did what you thought would hurt her least.”

With a snarl of anguish he said, “It was all for nothing. My father gave her to his men afterward anyway. I tried to stop them, but my father struck me across my face with the butt of his pistol.”

His voice dropped to a deadly low. “Something inside of me died that day. I swore from that moment on, I’d never care for anyone again. To care for another … the pain of hearing her screams, knowing I hadn’t saved her, still eats at my soul. What if I loved someone and I couldn’t save them? What if I became like my father, cold and cruel?”

She bent over him, holding him in tender strength. He kept his head down, burying his face in her hair as it spilled over him.

“Rothsay and his father were there that day. His father gifted him a present, too, and he reveled in the screams. That was the day our friendship ended. He has despised me for my weakness ever since, while I hated him for his cruelty.”

“That is why closing down his white slavery ring was so important to you. You know how evil he is.”

Anthony nodded. “Again, I have been less than noble. I have tried to atone for my past. When I learned that Rothsay had taken you, I was terrified,” he whispered. “I thought it was God punishing me for my sins. Just as I’d come to love, he handed the person I love most in the world, you, to the devil himself. I’d do anything, and I mean anything, to get you back. I thought I would never see you again. The thought of him hurting you …”

She touched his face in wordless empathy. He pressed his cheek into her hand, but she could not bring herself to meet his gaze. He might see more than he could bear. She would never tell him. Never hurt him with the truth. He might not be able to forgive himself.

Anthony sighed. “All my life I have believed it was better not to feel. I learned to bury my feelings deep inside. I
thought I could protect myself, stop myself from being hurt, stop myself from becoming the monster that was my father.”

More words tumbled out of him with such heated passion, her chest ached. “When I met you, the very first time you looked into my eyes and told me you would not make me marry you, I was shaken down to my very soul.” He stroked her face with his finger. “Most women I knew would have rushed me to the altar that night, simply for the money and power I could give them, but not you. I knew you were different. I knew you were special. I pushed for the wedding, knowing that if I did not grab your goodness, my soul would be lost forever.”

They were both silent for a long moment.

“I couldn’t tell you about not wanting children. You wouldn’t have married me. I would have had to explain my past. I didn’t want you to know the type of man I was,” he said, barely audible. “I thought I was my father’s son and should not pass on my seed.”

“You are your father’s son. You can’t escape the fact of your birth.”

   Her words tore at his heart. She did despise him.

“You don’t understand how hard I have worked to atone for my past. But if I lose you, if you don’t love me, I won’t survive—” He cut his words off and lowered his head, hating himself. He felt himself crumbling, finally, the view down into his black soul beckoned.

She stroked his head. “Let me finish. You are nothing like your father, except in looks. You have a heart big enough to withstand more cruelty than any person should have to bear, yet it still has room for love. It has room for me.”