Taken by the Duke (25 page)

“I pictured you raped, murdered, tortured by that man,” he managed to grind out before he set his spoon down, food uneaten. “Little did I know you were happily in his bed, warm and comfortable.”

“I knew you were suffering,” she said, trying to remain calm and rational. “I was truly hurt by that fact, Liam. You must know there was no pleasure in that for me. You know me.”

His brow wrinkled and his voice was distant as he murmured, “I’m not certain I know you at all.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “That is the worst thing you could say to me, Liam. That you feel that way cuts me to the bone. I can only hope one day you will find a way to forgive me.”

He was silent as he set his hand on the table. It was clenched in a fist, though she wasn’t certain how much of that was emotion and how much was that it was more comfortable for him thanks to his injury.

“Ava, when I was out today, I was calling on a gentleman.”

Ava tilted her head at this change of subject. Did it bode well or poorly that he was finished with the discussion of the state of their relationship?

She nodded and lifted a spoonful of soup to her lips. Before she ate it, she said, “A gentleman?”

He nodded. “Do you remember Mr. Clement Warren?”

Ava searched her memory. “He was a friend of Father’s, wasn’t he?”

“I suppose you might call him a friend,” Liam said with a shake of his head. “He is more of an associate. He and father invested in a project together. It didn’t go particularly well, and Warren had some problems because of it. He owed our family money.”

“I see,” Ava said, but she didn’t. Why in the world were they speaking of this? Liam had never talked to her about family finances before. “Did they have a repayment schedule? Was he behind?”

“Something like that,” Liam said. He leaned toward her. “His son recently died.”

“Oh.” She again tried to think of the man Liam was speaking about. “He was older, wasn’t he? Close to my age?”

He nodded. “Yes. And the man’s only heir. He now needs another. And he needs to have his debt forgiven. We have come to an arrangement.”

Ava stared at him. He was looking at her so evenly, his voice was so calm. Her heart began to pound.

“Liam—”

“He would be willing to overlook your scandal and marry you. After a month where we can be sure you are not—” His mouth twisted in disgust. “—
breeding
.”

Ava’s heart pounded at the idea of carrying Christian’s child, but she ignored that reaction for the moment and instead pushed her chair back to leap to her feet. She stared at her brother in shock. “Marry me? Liam!”

He leaned back, arms folded and stare icy cold. “You would regain some small level of your respectability.”

“By being sold like some broodmare to pay off a debt?” she said, outrage making her voice loud in the quiet room. “Liam, how could you without even speaking to me? How could you?”

He took a long sip of his whiskey and flinched as the liquid went down his throat. “How could I? An interesting question considering the position you have put me and yourself in. The world has already guessed your activities with Rothcastle, Ava. And you will be shunned by everyone. Marry this man, and you may never reach a level of respectability you once had, but you will have his protection.”

“I thought I had yours,” she whispered.

He recoiled before he regained his composure and shrugged. “This is all I can do for you.”

“Send me to the country,” she suggested. “If you cannot stand the sight of me and you think I shall be ostracized, then send me to one of the smaller estates.”

“So that you can call on Rothcastle to come and fuck you?” he asked, his tone rising suddenly and violently.

She leaned in, ignoring his anger because her own was so strong. “You would prefer I fuck an old man who could be our father? One I do not know or care about? One who is using me to pay a debt and produce a child?”

“Go to the country, and you will never be able to come back.” His voice was steely. “You will keep no company. You will have no friends. You will have one or two servants at best. I will send you enough funds to live on, but nothing more. I will never accept you in my home again. I will never visit you. Do you understand me?”

She staggered back, hitting the chair she had vacated. She sank into it, her stomach turning. “You hate me that much?” she whispered.

He shook his head. “I hate
him
.”

“And you would hurt me because now I am part of him.” He said nothing. She nodded, more for herself than for him. “I see.”

“The bargain with Mr. Warren has already been struck,” her brother said after an awkward silence where all Ava could hear was the shallow sound of her own labored breathing. “Meet with him before you decide to throw away everything, Ava. Perhaps you will find I have not created such a bad match for you after all.”

She stared at him, speechless in the face of this new side to her brother. She had always believed he loved her, even when he locked himself away in pain and grief after Matilda’s death. Now she wasn’t certain.

“You offer me little choice,” she managed to whisper as she got to her feet a second time, though much less dramatically. “I shall do what you say. But with no pleasure. Excuse me.”

She staggered from the room and to her chamber without seeing one bit of the world around her. Once she had shut her door, she could hardly hold back a scream of frustration and agony.

Her brother was about to “save” her. And all she longed for was for Christian to ride to her side like the hero of a story.

Only this story was not going to have that happy ending. No matter what she chose to do next.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Christian rolled over in his bed to face his door and winced at the action. For the first time in weeks, everything hurt. His body, yes. He had not been stretching or having his leg massaged since Ava’s departure and he hated to admit it, but her advice had been correct on those things. They helped.

She
helped.

Beyond his physical pain, though, there was a deeper ache. In his heart, in his spirit, in his soul. Waking up alone for almost a week was enough to drive him mad and spend every waking hour thinking of the woman who had so briefly shared his bed and his life.

“Damn you, Ava,” he muttered.

He sat up and scrubbed a hand over his scruffy, unshaven face. He could make this not matter. He knew he had that kind of self-control. He
would
forget her.

Except that was a lie.

There was a rap on his door, and he sighed in relief that he would no longer be tangled alone with his thoughts.

“Come in,” he said as he arranged the coverlet over him.

To his surprise, it wasn’t his valet who entered the room to ready him, but Sanders. The butler’s face was pale and drawn as he nodded out a greeting.

“I’m so sorry to bother you abed, Your Grace, but there is a matter of great importance I feel I must discuss with you immediately.”

Throwing the covers aside, Christian put on his robe and grabbed his cane before he came around to properly speak with the man who ran his daily household.

“What is it?”

“Laura has quit.” Sanders shifted with what seemed like upset of some kind. “She disappeared in the night with only a very brief note of farewell for Molly, one of the maids who shared her room.”

Christian frowned. While this was news he wanted to hear, he would not rate it of great importance. Certainly not great enough that he would expect Sanders to come into his room before he had been dressed and readied.

“I am not surprised,” he said with a shrug. “With Matilda gone, Laura had little to do around the house without taking a lowering of rank. And I believe she liked Ava a great deal. Laura couldn’t have approved of my treatment of her.”

“That isn’t why Laura departed, my lord.” Sanders swallowed hard and again Christian stared. He had never seen his butler so upset and flustered. “Once she left, one of the other girls was cleaning out her chamber, and they found something hidden beneath a loose board under her bed.”

He held out a small, leather-bound book with a grimace of distaste.

“What is this?” Christian asked, turning the item over.

“Her journal,” the butler said with a sniff.

“I have no interest in reading her private thoughts,” Christian said and held the book back toward his servant. “I’m surprised you would believe otherwise. If we do not have an address to forward it, then burn it.”

Sanders shook his head and did not take the book back despite Christian’s shaking it in his direction.

“My lord, normally I would be entirely on your side in this matter, and I would sternly admonish the girl who had read the book in the first place and violated Laura’s privacy. But in this case, her deplorable actions are commendable for it has revealed some very troubling facts.”

Christian lifted both eyebrows. “What do you mean, ‘troubling facts’?”

“Laura is not…
stable
, my lord. And I believe she might have left your home in order to exact a terrible revenge.”

“On whom?” Christian asked, opening the book now that his interest had been captured by Sanders’ strange statement.

“Upon Lady Ava, my lord, and on her brother. I believe she might even intend to kill them both.”

Christian’s gaze jerked back to his butler as an icy hand of fear gripped his heart. “This is not an amusing joke, Sanders.”

“It isn’t meant to be, my lord,” Sanders replied with just as even a gaze. “May I tell you the highlights of her writings to save you time?”

“Yes, and ring for Kingsley. I must be ready if what you say is true and the woman has evil intentions.”

His servant immediately did so, and as they waited for the valet’s arrival, Sanders said, “I apologize for the indelicacies I’m about to speak, my lord. Under any other circumstances, I would not—”

“I don’t need to be protected,” Christian interrupted as he tore open his wardrobe and grabbed for clothing to put on. He stripped out of his robe without any thought for Sanders being there and began to dress himself awkwardly.

“Yes, Your Grace.” Sanders cleared his throat. “It is clear from her writings that Laura was…obsessed with Lady Matilda.”

He looked at the butler in surprise as he struggled to get his shirt over his shoulders. “I beg your pardon? Are you certain you do not simply misread a close friendship?”

“I am certain, Your Grace. Her musings on her ladyship are quite pointed in their tone.” Sanders blushed. “She was in love with Lady Matilda, I believe. A romantic love.”

“Great God,” Christian said with a blink. “Did my sister return those feelings?”

“I do not believe so,” Sanders said, and he did not meet Christian’s eyes. “Laura laments her love from afar more than once. She seems to have expressed it only through her support of Lady Matilda. Especially in the matter of…” He cleared his throat. “Did you know that your sister pursued Lord Windbury—”

“Originally as a source of revenge.” Christian sighed. “Yes, another journal was clear about that. Apparently every woman in the household has a hidden one.”

For a moment he tried to imagine what Ava would write in hers, but he shoved that thought aside and looked at the door as his valet, Kingsley, entered the room. He stared at his master, half-dressed, and immediately rushed over.

“Your Grace, I had no idea—”

“Don’t trouble yourself, man, just help me,” Christian said. “And, Sanders, continue, for I know Kingsley will be discreet about anything he hears.”

The valet began to button and tug with great speed and efficiency as Sanders continued his summary. “But once your sister actually fell in love with the earl, Laura became very jealous and deeply angry. Apparently they quarreled the night your sister ran away to meet with Windbury. Laura never forgave herself for it after Matilda died. She was driven for revenge. And it seems she believed
you
would exact it.”

Christian frowned. Of course Laura would believe that. He had encouraged this in everyone around him. This hate, this drive for an eye for an eye.

“But I didn’t,” he supplied.

“No. She becomes frustrated toward the end of her writings and says some quite disparaging things about Lady Ava, I’m afraid. But once you let her go, once you did nothing to Lord Windbury when he was here to collect his sister…well, Laura’s writings become violent ramblings. She spoke often about going to London and doing what you would not. I fear her leaving could signal her decision to do just that.”

“But would she truly harm someone?” Christian asked. “You know her better than I.”

Sanders began to shrug, but it was Kingsley who answered as he helped Christian get his jacket over his shoulders. “Miss Laura? I think she would be very capable of violence, Your Grace.”

Christian pivoted on him. “Tell me what you know.”

His valet shook his head. “After Lady Matilda’s death, Laura joined a few of us at the pub for some drinks. She was spoiling for a fight and ended up taking a swing at a barmaid. She broke a glass on the bar and…” He broke off and shot a glance at Sanders. “She cut Edwin, the horse master, right across the face. She might have slit his throat if someone hadn’t grabbed her hand and wrestled that glass free of her.”