The Other Duke (21 page)

She caught her breath. “Of course. We get along fine, Rafe. But we had an arrangement.”

“Made before we knew each other,” he said softly. “Before we had talked about anything important or shared a bed. Don’t you think the situation has changed between us?”

Serafina squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn’t look at him because she saw that he had convinced himself he cared for her. And as bewitching a concept as that was, she couldn’t allow it. If she did, she would fall headlong into all the emotions she didn’t want to feel. She would utterly lose herself. There would only be pain down that road. Perhaps for them both.

“I do not wish to renegotiate,” she said softly.

“Serafina,” he said, his voice harsh and pained.

She turned toward him, straightening her spine as she gave him the respect he had earned with his kind treatment of her over the past month.

“I will not deny that the marriage we have shared thus far is not an unpleasant union,” she said, keeping her tone detached and as uninterested as she could. “And I like you Rafe, I truly do. But there is nothing more to my feelings than that. So I see no reason not to continue exactly as we initially planned. I will move into my home and you can go back to whatever…” She hesitated before she forced herself to continue. “To whatever activities you once involved yourself in.”

His face seemed to harden to stone, for he had not moved a fraction since she began speaking. Now he folded his arms. “And there is nothing else to say about it?”

She managed to nod once. “I don’t think there is.”

“Then allow me to speak,” he said. “Serafina, I am—”

She gasped and rushed to him, covering his lips with her fingers as the tears she had been trying to control filled her eyes. “Please don’t say it. Don’t say it.”

Now his face crumpled, but when she pulled her hand away, he didn’t speak.

“The last thing I want to do is bring you pain,” she whispered, longing to touch his face, to kiss him, to somehow make this better. But that would only confuse the issue. “But I
can’t
do what you want.”

His jaw tightened. “And that is the final word on that subject as well?”

She nodded. He stepped back and she felt the loss of his presence as deeply as if he had torn away some part of her.

“Then I suppose I should appreciate your honesty, Serafina. I will make arrangements for you to speak to the agent about the homes tomorrow. As you said, I should not be involved in your future since I shall not be a part of it beyond the pre-discussed guidelines.”

She swallowed at the hardness in him now. The dark quality in his eyes spoke of volumes of pain, but pain he would never again share with her.

And even though that was what she told him, and herself, that she wanted…it felt like a stab to the core of her soul.

“I want to go back,” she whispered. “Go back home…to your home.”

He arched a brow and was silent for a moment.

“Of course,” he finally said in that utterly impersonal tone that seemed to cut her to the bone. “I think I’ll stay a while longer. There are a few people I would still like to speak to. Feel free to sleep in your separate chamber tonight so that I won’t wake you upon my return.”

He met her stare, waiting for her to say something. Perhaps challenging her to do so. But all she could do was nod.

“Of course. That makes perfect sense.”

His lips thinned again. “I will go inside and have the carriage brought around. I’ll find you when it is ready.”

He didn’t wait for her response. He simply turned on his heel and walked back into the ballroom, leaving her alone on the terrace, watching him through the windows.

Alone as she had claimed to desire.

Alone as she had never felt before.

Rafe could hardly see the jostling crowd around him or hear the sounds of their chatter as he staggered back into the ballroom. He had called for his carriage for Serafina, but he could scarcely recall doing so. His mind was too cluttered with her dismissive words out on the terrace.

She hadn’t even wanted to hear him. He’d never even had a chance.

Suddenly there was a great clap of a hand on his shoulder, and he turned to find Crispin standing there. His brother had a grin on his face, but Rafe could see the concern in Crispin’s eyes. He had obviously seen what Rafe couldn’t. Crispin had known that loving Serafina could not end well.

“You were outside for a while,” Crispin said, his tone deceptively neutral.

Rafe struggled to find words. “Yes. My wife had a great deal to say.”

Crispin leaned in closer. “Such as?”

“Do you need to hear it?” Rafe asked.

“Do you need to say it to someone who cares only for your happiness?” his brother countered quietly.

“She does not want me,” Rafe whispered, the words stinging as they left his lips. “She doesn’t want my love.”

Crispin stiffened. “Was your love something she had earned?”

“Yes.”

Crispin nodded gave Rafe’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I’m truly sorry, Raphael.”

“As am I.”

“But perhaps that makes what I came over here to discuss with you even more pertinent.”

Rafe blinked. “What you came to discuss?”

Crispin nodded. “Yes. After you and Serafina left me, I was wandering through the crush to get a drink, and who did I stumble upon but our dear friend, Viscountess Braehold?”

Rafe froze at the name that fell so effortlessly from his lips. Before his marriage, he indulged in a brief night of passion with the widowed Lady Braehold. And his brother damn well knew that.

“Crispin,” he growled. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Helping you, I hope,” Crispin said and began to motion over Rafe’s shoulder, as if to beckon someone to join their party.

Rafe stiffened as he turned and watched Lady Braehold cross the room in a few long strides. Her dark hair was bound back, her equally dark eyes focused on Rafe as she made her approach. She was very pretty, yes, and he knew exactly why he had been attracted to her.

But she did nothing for him now.

He glared at his brother for putting him in this position.

“Dear Rafe,” Lady Braehold said as she reached him and took both his hands. “Or I suppose I should say Your Grace now, shouldn’t I?”

He extracted himself gently and forced a smile for the woman. It certainly was not her fault that Crispin was trying to sooth a wound in this utterly inappropriate fashion.

“Yes, the past few weeks have been quite a shock,” Rafe said.

“I can imagine. One moment you are a carefree gentleman, the next a duke. And married.” Lady Braehold shook her dark head and the curls around her face danced prettily. “You have certainly had a very interesting month.”

“Excuse me,” Crispin said with a smile for them both. “I shall leave you to reacquaint yourselves.”

Rafe glowered after Crispin as he walked away, but his expression didn’t seem to move his brother whatsoever. With reluctance, he focused back on his female companion.

“How do you find married life?” the lady asked.

He could see the true question in the glitter of her eyes. She wanted to know if he intended to take a lover. If that lover might be her. In truth, a month ago, when he had first made his arrangement with Serafina, he might have answered those questions with a resounding yes. The lady before him was both talented and discreet.

And now his answer was very different.

“I’m afraid my brother might have sought you out under false pretenses,” he said apologetically.

“And those are?” she pressed.

He looked around to make certain no one would overhear. Then he leaned in and spoke softly, “You and I shared a remarkable night, my lady.”

“We did,” she agreed. “And I feel a
but
coming on.”

“But I am in love with someone else now,” he admitted. “And until I can either convince her to allow herself the faith to feel the same or somehow shake my heart free of her, I couldn’t have a mistress.”

Lady Braehold stared at him. “I assume you are saying you are in love with your wife.”

He nodded. “I am.”

She was silent for a long moment, but then she smiled. “Then the lady is very lucky indeed.”

Rafe sighed. Serafina didn’t exactly feel that way, it seemed.

“Lucky and…leaving,” Lady Braehold said, motioning to the ballroom door.

Rafe spun to find Serafina hurrying her way through the crowd. At the door, she stopped, and Rafe watched as his brother approached her. They spoke for a moment and she cast one quick glance over her shoulder toward Rafe and Lady Braehold, standing together.

Then she took the arm Crispin offered and allowed him to lead her from the room.

“I should follow her,” Rafe said. “I’m sorry.”

“Go,” his companion said. “No apologies are necessary.”

He wanted so desperately to hurry after his wife and brother, but the crowd was too tight. He had to all but physically fight his way through, ignoring calls of his name from those who already knew or wanted to meet him and trying his best not to elbow ladies in the face in his hurry.

By the time he got into the hall and raced to the foyer, he was breathless and anxious. Despite Serafina’s rejection of him, he didn’t like the idea that she would sneak from the ballroom. That act felt very final to him.

She wasn’t in the foyer with the milling servants, but the door to the outside was open to allow in air and make exits and entries easier. He moved to look outside, but at that moment, his brother stepped into the house from the drive. They both stopped and the two men locked eyes.

“What are you doing in the foyer?” Crispin asked, brow wrinkling with apparently genuine confusion.

Rafe moved on him. “I’m looking for my wife, you idiot. Where is she?”

Crispin stared at him. “She went home.”

Rafe pushed past him and watched as his carriage rumbled from the drive and turned onto the street back in the direction of his home. His stomach turned with the knowledge that Serafina was within that vehicle. Alone. Leaving him.

He pivoted back to his brother. “Why did you interfere?”

Crispin looked around them at the servants who were all subtly leaning in now, obviously interested in this showdown between infamous brothers. No doubt they would report back to their various masters.

Without a word, Crispin grabbed Rafe’s arm, dragged him into the closest parlor and slammed the door.

“You don’t need a scandal,
Your Grace
,” his brother said.

Rafe shook off his hand and glared at him. “Answer my fucking question.”

Crispin took a step back. “What is
that
tone about?”

“You heard what I said. Why did you interfere?”

Crispin pressed his lips together. “How did I do that? When I bumped into Serafina, she told me that you two had already arranged that she would leave early and you would stay behind. Since you were otherwise engaged, I offered to escort her to the carriage myself.”

“Otherwise engaged,” Rafe repeated on a burst of laughter that was anything but amused. He paced away from Crispin, if only so that he wouldn’t take a swing at his best friend. “Another moment arranged by
you
.”

Crispin shook his head. “I assure you, it was not. I truly did run into the viscountess in the crush and we chatted for a moment. Did I think you should see her? Of course I did.”

“Because you think I should take the woman as my lover and forget about Serafina,” Rafe said.

His brother tilted his head, and there was an ugly flash of pity in his stare. “Isn’t that what your wife
told
you to do?”

Rafe’s shoulders rolled forward as defeat rushed through him. "Well, you can tell me, she can tell me, anyone can tell me. I cannot change my heart and I have no place in my life for a lover at present.”

Crispin’s frown deepened. “Is that what you told Lady Braehold?”

Rafe scrubbed a hand over his face. “Something along those lines.”

He moved to the closest chair and sank down into it, placing a hand over his eyes as he tried not to think about Serafina walking away from him and the life he knew they could have together.

“Rafe,” his brother said softly. “What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I don’t know what I can do.” He thought of how Serafina had looked at him over her shoulder before she slipped from the ballroom. “Did she say anything about me before she left?”

He looked up in time to see Crispin shift with discomfort, his face tightening. Rafe straightened up in the chair.

“What? Why do you look guilty?”

Crispin shrugged. “I do hate that my best friend is my brother. It’s very disconcerting to be read from top to bottom.”

“What did you do?” Rafe whispered.

Crispin sighed and moved to sit across from him. “Your wife said she wanted to leave and that she didn’t know if the carriage had been called for. I offered to escort her to the foyer. While we were walking, she asked me who was standing with you.”

Rafe squeezed his eyes shut. “Please tell me you didn’t say an old lover with whom you hoped I would reconnect.”

Crispin shook his head. “Of course not. I’m a rogue, not a cad. But…”

“But?”

“I did say she was an old friend to you. And I’m certain intelligent Serafina knew that
friendship
meant more than mere conversation.”

Rafe stared up at the ceiling with a groan.

“This is a good thing, Rafe,” his brother tried to convince him.

“How? I all but declared my love for her and then she’s left to believe I’m meeting with an old lover not ten minutes later?”

Crispin leaned in. “You all but declared your love and she
refused
you. If she thinks you are willing to move on, at the worst, it reclaims some of your dignity.”

Rafe glared at him. “And at best?”

“Perhaps Her Grace will feel a sting of jealousy and determine that losing you isn’t in her best interest after all.”

Rafe slowly looked at his brother again. Crispin had folded his arms and was staring at him evenly. “Are you trying to tell me that you are hoping to make my wife
jealous
in an attempt to force her to see my worth?”

Crispin shrugged but said nothing.

“But you don’t want me to be married. You want me to go back to the man I was before Cyril’s death.”

Crispin sighed. “I want you to be happy. Only you can decide what that looks like. But if Serafina is a part of it, I would move mountains to ensure you get your heart’s desire.”

Rafe stared at his brother, unable to speak. Then he got to his feet. Crispin followed him in the action, wariness in his stare.

Without saying a word, Rafe wrapped his arms around Crispin and hugged him as he hadn’t in years. Crispin chuckled as he returned the embrace with an awkward pat on Rafe’s back.

“Don’t go soft on me,” his brother warned as they released each other. “Our father loved his wife and didn’t become a boring sod. I expect nothing less from you.”

Rafe laughed. “A lofty goal indeed. And I’ll do my best, assuming, of course, that your plan does not backfire and leave my wife more determined than ever to separate her life from mine.”

Crispin’s brow wrinkled, and he seemed to ponder that for a moment. “Well, if she does that, then I suppose we will simply have to come up with a new plan to win her.”

“You and I?” Rafe laughed.

“And Annabelle. And I’m sure Mama could come up with something devious. She pretends to be the sanest of the bunch, but she has her own wild streak. We are the Flynns—nothing can stop us.”