The Broken Duke Read online

  “That isn’t why I said what I said,” she protested. “I wasn’t trying to trap you, Graham. I would never do that.”

  “Yes, you’ve made that clear,” he said, his voice still soft and even. “By not wanting to confess your double life until you could tell me for certain there was no child created by my imprudence. By never asking me for a damned thing, not as Adelaide or as Lydia. By throwing yourself onto a fire without ever demanding protection in return. There are many things I feel right now, Adelaide, but I don’t feel like this is a trap.”

  He let out a long sigh, and she felt his exhaustion and his surrender. Not things she ever wanted from a man in the midst of a rather unromantic proposal.

  “If not a trap, then what is it?” she asked, folding her arms as a shield against his indifference.

  He met her gaze. “When James arranged my marriage to Margaret all those years ago, I was stifled. I tried so hard to develop feelings for her. Any passion of any kind. But it was a failure. For both of us.”

  Adelaide thought of Meg. She’d said something similar, and none of it made sense to Adelaide. “How could she kiss you and feel nothing?” she mused, almost more to herself than to him.

  He jerked his head up and met her gaze. “I never kissed her.”

  Adelaide stared at him, a mixture of disbelief and pure pleasure boiling in her chest. “No?”

  He shook his head. “I never…wanted to. I couldn’t picture that future, even in the slightest. So that marriage would have been a horrible trap for both of us. But with you, it is different.”

  “How so?” she squeaked out, for suddenly his words seemed far less unromantic.

  He reached for her hand. “I want you, Adelaide. In a powerful way that I never understood before I kissed you.”

  She stiffened. “You want Lydia,” she corrected.

  “No,” he said, his jaw tightening. “I’m not talking about Lydia. I told you last night, it’s you. When I saw Lydia return as we went into the theatre earlier today, I wasn’t happy to see her.”

  “But you told me you were torn between Lydia and me,” she whispered. “That was what brought you such trouble, wasn’t it?”

  He nodded. “But now I know why you created Lydia: to hide. She was a shield against trouble, a barrier between yourself and unhappiness. She was a corner you were forced into. And yes, I cared for her. But what I’ve come to realize is that everything wonderful about her are all the things that are best about you. The real you. Not the spinster wallflower, not the bold actress. You. I didn’t tell Lydia Ford my secrets. I told you. And you are who I want. My Adelaide. The woman who knows me and whose secrets I will protect with my life. The woman who would do the same for me. That is who I want. So we will marry, Adelaide.”

  This was no declaration of love, certainly. And she still ached for that because her own love for this man was so strong and so powerful. But what he offered was still magical. A future with him. And she could see it stretching out in front of her, happy, if she could make it so. If she could accept what he could give and what he couldn’t.

  In that moment, she hoped she could.

  “Are you asking me or are you telling me?” she said with a half-smile for him.

  He grinned in response, and that rare and bright expression lit up the whole carriage. “Asking,” he said. “Though I’ll tell you I won’t take no for an answer.”

  She bent her head. She would have safety. She would have passion, at least until he bored of her. She would have stability because he would ensure it.

  And she found herself nodding. “Yes. I will marry you, Graham.”

  He crossed the carriage in one smooth motion and his mouth was on hers, hard and heavy and filled with passion. She lifted into him, her arms around his neck, her body molded to his as she accepted this offer with everything she was.

  He pulled away as the carriage slowed and turned into James and Emma’s drive. “I have much to prepare for Melinda and Toby,” he said. “And a few things to ready for us, as well. But I’ll come back here for supper.”

  She nodded as the footman opened the door. “I look forward to it.”

  He kissed her hand and then allowed her to exit. She turned to watch him go, torn between joy and disappointment. Her whole life she had never expected a love match. And now she had it, at least on her side, and it wasn’t enough.

  She entered the foyer and was greeted by Grimble. “Is the duchess available?” Adelaide asked as he took her gloves.

  “The duke and duchess have taken an afternoon rest,” Grimble explained. “The duke was very clear that Her Grace was not to be disturbed until supper.”

  Adelaide smiled. “After this morning’s upset, that is likely best for her and the child.”

  She looked around. This house was a good home for Emma, but it wasn’t Adelaide’s home. She thought of her aunt, so devastated by Adelaide’s choices. She was the only guardian Adelaide had known since the death of her parents. The only person who had taken care of her. And she had taken care of Adelaide. She remembered moments of tenderness between them though they were long ago, when she was still a child.

  It was only as she grew older that Opal’s anger increased. That her anxiety and accusations were born. But perhaps an engagement to a powerful duke would assuage her. Perhaps there was still some way to maintain a relationship of some kind with the only family she’d ever known.

  “Is there something I can do for you, my lady?” Grimble asked.

  Adelaide blinked, realizing she had been standing in the foyer beside the poor man, drifting off into fantasy. “I’m sorry, Grimble, I was woolgathering. But do you think you might arrange for a carriage to be brought round for me?”

  Grimble nodded. “Of course, Lady Adelaide. What direction should I give to the driver?”

  “I’d like to go to Lady Opal’s,” she explained. “I need to see my aunt.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Graham sat in the quiet, pretty parlor, looking around as his heart throbbed. He had returned to his home and made his arrangements an hour ago, but a driving voice had been pounding in his head for days. So finally, he had gotten on his horse and come here. To this place he had once vowed to never return.

  He moved to the fireplace and looked up. On the wall was mounted a painting of the inhabitants of this place—the Duke and Duchess of Crestwood. Simon and Meg. His best friend and his once fiancée.

  Not that long ago, seeing their portrait would have made Graham flinch at Simon’s betrayal. Now he saw the picture through very different eyes. He saw the love that was between the pair even in the painted image. She was seated, with Simon standing behind her. His hand rested on her shoulder and her own was lifted to cover his. He glanced down with a small smile, as if he were enraptured by her.

  Which of course he was. Always had been, it turned out. And Graham understood that far better now.

  The door behind him opened and he turned to find Meg standing there, her eyes wide as she stared at him. She was lovely, she always had been, with chestnut hair and dark eyes and a lively, expressive face. Right now he saw her shock reflected there. Her wariness.

  “Graham,” she breathed. “My God, when Finley said you’d arrived I thought he had gotten into the mulled wine. But you are here.”

  Graham took a step toward her. “I am. Does Simon not wish to see me?” he asked as a swell of pain spread through his chest. Perhaps he had waited too long to speak to his friend. Perhaps it was too late.

  Meg shook her head. “Oh no, not at all. Simon is out, that is all. He should be back momentarily, and I know he’ll want to see you. My God, you’re truly here. Please sit. Let me get you tea.”

  Graham was about to tell her that he didn’t want tea, but she was already racing to the sideboard, pouring from the service there and sweetening his drink just as he liked it. Because of course she would remember that detail. This was Meg, after all.

  He smiled as he retook his seat and reached for the cup she b
rought him. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

  She sat across from him and shook her head. “Oh, please don’t do that. It’s Meg, it’s always been Meg. If you’re here I have to hope that it will be Meg again.”

  He inclined his head in acquiescence. “Very well, Meg. You look well. You look happy.”

  She hesitated and he could see she questioned how to respond. But at last she nodded. “I am happy, Graham. It was difficult at first, of course. Simon and I had our struggles. Even now, there are whispers, which I know you’re fully aware of. But I am happy.”

  “Good,” he said softly. “I would hate for all that turmoil and hurt not to have a happy ending for you. You deserve happiness and love.”

  She drew in a sharp breath at that statement. “Thank you, Graham. You deserve the same and more.”

  He swallowed. He’d come looking for Simon, but now that he was here with the woman he’d once planned to marry, he recognized that she had answers for him, to questions he’d never thought he’d ask.

  “When did you know you loved Simon?” he asked.

  Meg shifted at the direct question. It clearly made her uncomfortable, like she was betraying him by admitting any part of the truth. But at last she straightened her shoulders and met his eyes. “You want my honesty, yes?”

  “I do.”

  “I was fifteen when I first realized that I loved him,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion, but not regret. “A year before James arranged for my marriage to you. In truth, I had probably loved him since the very first moment I met him.”

  “How did you know?” he asked.

  She tilted her head, and he could see her reading him. Meg had always been able to do that with everyone around her. She could see what people were at their core, she could see what they needed. It was her greatest asset and always had been.

  “When I pictured my future and could not imagine it without him, I knew.” She leaned closer. “And I’m so very sorry I wasn’t brave enough to say something to James that very moment. If I had been braver, none of what happened a few months ago would have had to come to pass. And you and Simon both wouldn’t have been hurt.”

  He considered that for a moment. Perhaps months or even weeks ago, that might have been the words he needed to hear. The apology. The admission of guilt. But now…

  “I didn’t understand what happened at the time, you know. I couldn’t understand how you two could do what you did. But now, with months between that moment and this one and…and with other things intervening, I think I understand more.”

  Her expression softened. “Do you? Could you?”

  “Yes.” He let out a long, heavy sigh. “The heart is not something one can control, is it? We want what we want, there is no arguing or negotiating that. In our case, we were each driven by a need not to hurt anyone else. And instead we were all damaged. I don’t pretend that you and Simon weren’t hurt by what transpired. Nor do I imagine that it could have ended any other way. If you and I had married, it would have been devastating to us all. So I want you to understand something, Meg.”

  She stared at him, tears glistening in her eyes. “What is that?”

  “I’m glad it happened.” He said the words and he meant them all the way down to his core. All his anger, all his pain, it faded with that acceptance. “I wouldn’t change it. We are all where we are meant to be and that couldn’t have happened without that night in the cottage between you and Simon.”

  She drew in a ragged breath. “Does that mean you forgive us? Forgive him?”

  He nodded, and it was so very true in that moment. A peace filled him, filled every fiber of his being, filled every space in his mind and the universe felt clear. Without the betrayal that had cut him so deeply, he would have married Meg. They would have been miserable. He never would have roamed London aimlessly, he never would have been directed toward Lydia, he never would have found Adelaide.

  His life would have been cold and empty and miserable. And now he had a future in front of him. One that was clear and powerful and filled with…love.

  He loved Adelaide. He loved her with a power he hadn’t known he could possess. And it was terrifying and wonderful and perfect and thrilling all at once. It made him understand everything Simon had done because the idea of someone taking her, someone keeping her from him, made his mind race and his hands shake.

  “You are here.”

  Graham got to his feet and turned as Simon entered the room. His friend with the mischievous air to him, with the kindness that permeated everything he did, with the light that had always made the darkness in Graham just a little easier to bear, stared at him. There was pain on his face, but also hope.

  Graham said nothing, he just came around the settee, crossed the room to him in three long strides. Simon stiffened, his expression uncertain, but when Graham grabbed his arm and tugged him in for an embrace, Simon’s arms folded around him. They stood that way for a moment, then Graham backed away, smiling as Meg stepped up with tears in her eyes.

  “I’ll leave you two,” she said, squeezing Graham’s hand before she leaned up to kiss Simon’s cheek gently. The couple’s eyes met, and a world of love and understanding passed between them. He recognized it now, as he hadn’t before because he’d never felt love like that before. Now he did. And he understood everything so much better.

  She left, and Simon leaned back to shut the door. “I can’t believe you’re here,” he said. “Sit. She gave you tea, didn’t she? Meg and her tea. Would you like something stronger?”

  Graham chuckled. “No, I’m fine.”

  “I might need something stronger,” Simon muttered as he went to the sideboard and splashed some scotch into a glass. “Finley said you were here and I thought—”

  “He was drunk? That was Meg’s reaction too.”

  “Well, we are often of a mind,” Simon said with a shrug.

  “You are that,” Graham said. “I just never understood it. If I had, I would have stepped aside long before that night in the cottage.”

  Simon flinched as he slowly took the place across from Graham where Meg had last sat. “You were right the last time you talked to me. You were right when you said that I should have done something. It wasn’t your responsibility.”

  “The last time I talked to you, I was very drunk,” Graham said with a shake of his head as he thought of a bleary afternoon at White’s when he’d tried to force Simon to fight him. “And I was cruel.”

  “No, you were honest,” Simon said. “Which is more than I gave you. But your words that day drove me back to Meg. Drove me to fight for what I wanted, even if I refused to fight you. And you saved us, Graham. I’ll never be able to repay that debt. Nor will I be able to apologize enough for my bungling of the matter. I destroyed our friendship, not just that night when Meg and I were trapped together, but for years before that. Because I couldn’t look you in the eye and tell you what I wanted.”

  “Desperation can drive a man to do things he wouldn’t normally,” Graham said. “And love. I…I understand that more now.”

  Simon wrinkled his brow. “Are you saying you’re in love?”

  Graham took a deep breath. “Yes,” he admitted, then ran a hand through his hair. “Christ, that’s the first time I’ve said it out loud.”

  Simon laughed. “Am I correct to guess it is with Lady Adelaide?”

  Graham’s eyes went wide. “And how do you know that?”

  “Meg and Emma are close, remember,” Simon said with a shrug. “And Adelaide doesn’t think much of Meg. Since everyone adores my wife, her reticence made it obvious that Adelaide liked you and was taking your side on the matter.”

  “Well, her hesitations about Meg will change once she realizes I’ve forgiven you,” Graham said with a smile as he thought of his warrior Adelaide, always on his side. “She’s protective of me.”

  “She is.” Simon leaned forward. “Do you truly forgive me?”

  Graham nodded. “Yes.”

  “
And are you planning on marrying this woman who has tempted you to love?” Simon pressed, his tone much lighter now. It was like old times, in fact. Old times when Simon had been the one he could say certain things to. Things that needed gentleness or finesse or lightness.

  “I am,” Graham said slowly. “We made the agreement earlier today, though I haven’t yet told her my feelings.”

  Simon wrinkled his brow. “No? Why?”

  “We’ve been a bit forced into it,” Graham said with a shake of his head. “That seems to go around in our group, doesn’t it?”

  “We’ve all been dragged into our futures thus far, yes,” Simon conceded. “But it’s been a very worthwhile endeavor for James and for me. If you love her, you’ll find a way to make it work. And I tell you, loving them is well worth any price you’d pay.”

  Graham nodded. “Yes, I can see that now. I can understand it for the first time. Truly, aside from my lack of honesty about my heart, there is only one mar on our future together.”

  Simon cocked his head. “What is that?”

  “Her aunt,” Graham mused, thinking of the rage on Lady Opal’s face when she had lunged at Adelaide. Thinking of Adelaide’s confession that the woman had been physically abusive a handful of times in the past. “The woman is jealously protective of her charge’s virtue. And she is violently angry at Adelaide’s actions.”

  “But if your intentions are true, isn’t it possible you could soften her to you and to Adelaide?” Simon suggested. “Talk to her?”

  Graham paused. It had been impossible for him to see past the anger Lady Opal had expressed. It triggered a response in him that was almost out of his control. But he knew that Adelaide still thought of her aunt as her only family. Her defense of the woman proved that. And Simon could be correct that a conversation might soften the response.

  And if not, Graham could firmly tell the woman that if she ever laid a hand on Adelaide again, she would be very sorry indeed.