The Broken Duke Page 19

  Adelaide turned her head, and an explosion of pain worked through her entire skull. She moaned against it, lifting a hand to touch her face. She found it tender and carefully opened her eyes.

  She was lying in a bed, propped up on the pillows, and next to her Graham lay on his side, facing her. He was asleep. His cheeks were streaked with soot and his hand rested on her stomach beneath the blankets.

  Memories returned, dark and horrible. Of her aunt’s terrible confessions. Of the pain as she was struck. Of waking to the room in flame. She couldn’t hold back a sob as all those things mobbed her.

  Graham opened his eyes at the sound and reached for her, pulling her tight against his chest as he pressed a kiss to her uninjured temple. “I know,” he whispered. “It’s all right. I’m here.”

  She cried into his shoulder for a while, and he never spoke. He never demanded. He never did anything but gently rock her, offering her comfort where there was none. It was only when he lifted a hand to touch her face that she noticed the bandages on his arms, his hands.

  She gasped out a sound of horror and tried to sit up, but was met with another explosion of pain through her skull.

  “It’s all right,” he soothed. “The burns aren’t very bad. And you are well. You’re safe. I would have lit myself entirely on fire without hesitation to ensure that.”

  She felt hot tears running down her cheeks and buried her face back into his shoulder. She smelled smoke on his clothing and it jerked her back, once again, to the horrible, bleary moments in the house when she’d known that she would die.

  And why.

  “Tell me what happened,” he whispered, his lips soft against her ear.

  She let out a shuddering sigh and told him everything. He said nothing, just allowed her to pause when she needed to catch her breath, let her weep when the tears came. When it was all over, he just held her, trembling just as she did.

  “Do you think it’s true?” Adelaide asked, sinking back against the pillows with a shuddering sigh.

  He rolled to his side and traced her cheek with his fingertip. “I don’t know. There are a lot of details to the story for it to be a lie. And it would explain her strong reactions to me, to Charlie, to you.”

  She stared up at the ceiling. “I know it’s true.”

  He was quiet a long time and she appreciated his silence. He was allowing her to process what she’d been through. Allowing her to feel whatever came into her heart rather than trying to push it away and offer false comfort before she was ready.

  But at last her mind stilled a little. She glanced at him. “Why were you there?”

  He smiled, just a tiny lift of his lips. “I came with Simon, to try to make your aunt see reason.”

  “With Simon?” she repeated. “Does that mean—”

  He nodded, and in that moment she saw what a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “I went to see him. I talked to Meg and to him for a long time. And though there is likely still time left for all of us to fully heal, we’re on the road to it. He gave me the tools to save your life. Thank God he was there.” She touched his sooty face and he smiled again. “I apologize for the mess. They couldn’t make me leave your side.”

  “I don’t care about the ash. I’m so glad you’re here with me. But what about my aunt’s servants?”

  He sighed and her heart lurched. “She had sent them all away the moment you returned. Your butler, Finley, thought it odd and had rushed to find someone to help. We were lucky that the Home Office was already on its way and the fire brigade soon followed. They couldn’t save your aunt’s home, but they kept the blaze from spreading to the surrounding buildings.”

  “Thank God for that,” Adelaide said with a shake of her head. “My aunt could have taken out the entire neighborhood. Half the city. For what? To stop me from being…me?” She hesitated and met his eyes. “What of her?”

  He frowned deeply. “I’m so sorry, Adelaide, but…but they found her in the parlor. She didn’t survive.”

  She shut her eyes, tears stinging yet again. “We had such a complicated relationship. Indifference, cruelty, occasional bursts of loving affection when I was a little girl…but she was all I had left in this world. I suppose I should take some solace that she’s at peace now. Whatever troubles plagued her, whatever truth was within her lies and delusions, she’s not in pain anymore.”

  “You are better than I am,” Graham said. “I could offer her no such peace after what she did to you.”

  “But I’m here. And you’re here. And in the end, she only harmed herself in any way that will stick.” She traced his lips gently, loving how close he was. Loving him with all her heart. And since she had almost lost him, she knew what she had to do. “I must tell you something.”

  He nodded slowly. “Anything, you should know that by now.”

  She cleared her throat and felt heat in her cheeks. This moment was so abjectly terrifying. But she needed to take it. Right now she knew better than most that there might not be another. Life could be taken so unexpectedly. She didn’t want regrets, not ever again.

  “I have fallen in love with you, Graham,” she said. She held up a hand to keep him from speaking. “I don’t expect you to feel the same. I don’t want you to say anything you don’t mean—we both know how damaging that can be. But there was a moment today when I realized I would not live. And the idea that I would die without telling you my heart was as painful as anything else I endured. I vowed that if I survived, I wouldn’t be afraid of your rejection. That I’d tell you the truth.”

  “Are you finished?” he asked.

  She shifted. “I-I suppose so, yes.”

  “I almost lost you, as well,” he said. “But that didn’t inspire me to tell you I loved you.”

  Her heart sank. She hadn’t expected him to be so direct about it. “I understand.”

  He shook his head. “No, you don’t. I intended to tell you I loved you the very next time I saw you, Adelaide, long before I saw the fire and realized you were trapped. I intended to tell you, just as I’m telling you now, that you possess my heart in every way.”

  Her lips parted and disbelief shook her. “No,” she said, and moved as much as she could.

  He caught her arm gently. “Don’t you dare run from me now. Neither of us has felt much love in our lives. Don’t think for a moment that this feeling doesn’t terrify me as much as it terrifies you. Or that I don’t fear that I’ll somehow destroy whatever we could possibly build. I do fear that. But I fear walking away from you more. I love you, Adelaide. You and only you. And the future can be far better than the past. That is what you’ve shown me from the first moment I saw you walk out on stage weeks ago.”

  She felt the heat of her tears on her cheeks once more, but this time they weren’t tears of pain or devastation. They were tears of joy. Tears of acceptance that everything he said was real and true and right. That they would love each other and teach each other how to love. That they would have the rest of their lives to explore what it was to be fully accepted and fully adored.

  Because she did adore him. And looking into his bright eyes, she could see all her feelings were returned.

  She didn’t speak. She leaned up, drawing him down into her, lifting her mouth to his and kissing him with all her passion and her love, and the hopes and dreams she had long ago put away. With him, she had more than ever.

  When he pulled away, he grinned, and it brightened the very room with happiness and light and hope. “Oh, there is one more thing. My carriage did retrieve Melinda and Toby, and they are on the way to my estate without incident. I thought that would please you.”

  She struggled to sit up, her head spinning. Once that feeling had passed, she looked at him evenly. “Actually, I think there is a way for us to save them without hideouts and solicitors and every other wonderful thing you’ve planned in that brilliant mind of yours.”

  His brow wrinkled. “Thwarting my plans again, are you? Tell me.”

  She d
rew in a long breath. “My assumption is that when I marry you, Lydia Ford will be no more.”

  “I-I hadn’t considered that. Would you be unhappy turning away from the stage?”

  She blinked at the question. At the idea that he would have no issue with her continuing. And all her love swelled higher.

  “You know I performed as a way to escape my real life, but I never thought it could truly last,” she reminded him. “Even if it could, I don’t want to escape you. Ever. So my thought is that Lydia must play one grand final part.”

  He nodded. “I’m listening.”

  “Everyone saw what happened between Sir Archibald and you the night he attacked me. But they also know that Lydia suffered at his hands. Does it not follow that she could have lured him back to the theatre and exacted her revenge?”

  He leaned back and considered it a moment, then he grinned. “That is…brilliant, actually.”

  “Thank you.” She said with her own smile. “So Lydia will write a letter explaining what she did and then expressing how the guilt wracks her and she cannot go on. She will drown in the Thames as penance for her crime.”

  “Very dramatic,” he said, voice solemn though his eyes were bright with teasing. “But what about Melinda and Toby? Your friend adores you, she would be brokenhearted.”

  She worried her lip. “Yes, there is that. I would hate to have her suffer thinking I was dead. But what if we…told them the truth?”

  “Could you trust them?” he asked.

  She nodded without hesitation. “Yes.”

  “Well, I need a new manager of the very estate I’ve sent them to,” he said. “I could offer Toby a job if he’d like it. He has experience in the theatre. And then you’ll still get to see Melinda.”

  She couldn’t help but grin with enthusiasm and then winced as the pain in her head returned. He frowned and wrapped his arms around her, lowering her back on the pillows as he looked over her face with concern.

  “I assume Emma has been waiting to see me,” she said. “Worried sick. I have so much to tell her.”

  “You do,” he said with a soft smile. “But it can wait. Have I mentioned in the past five minutes that I love you, Adelaide?”

  She laughed despite all the pain that had been caused in the last forty-eight hours. Pain that she knew would fade with time and with the happiness she would find for the rest of her life with this glorious man.

  “It’s been six or seven,” she said.

  “Then I would be remiss if I didn’t say that I do love you, Adelaide.”

  She tugged him down to kiss her once more. And before their lips met, she whispered, “I love you, Graham. With all my heart.”

  Epilogue

  Graham entered Emma and James’s breakfast room to find Adelaide seated with a paper spread out before her. She smiled up at him and his world seemed to brighten in that instant.

  He had hardly left her side since the fire a week before. He hadn’t wanted to after nearly losing her. Somehow he had even convinced Emma to allow him to stay in Adelaide’s chamber each night. At first he’d just held her, but in the last two nights, as her injuries had healed, she had opened herself to him again and all his passion returned. It seemed it would never fade, and he was glad of it. Making her sigh with pleasure was one of the best experiences of his life.

  “It’s in this morning’s paper,” she said, pointing to the words slashed across the Society pages and drawing his attention back to the moment at hand.

  “‘London’s Most Infamous Actress Admits to Murder’,” he read out loud. “Suicide suspected, body not yet found.”

  She nodded, though she twisted her mouth slightly. “I never thought I was London’s most infamous actress.”

  He laughed at her unexpected pouting. “You are now. They will be talking about you for years to come.”

  “Probably right to my face, without even knowing that I’m the one they’re speaking of,” she grumbled.

  He leaned forward and kissed her, silencing her grousing in the most happy of ways. “That’s what you want, my dear, never forget it.”

  She shrugged. “I suppose you are correct.”

  “Are you and Emma and Meg going out today?” he asked.

  Her smile widened. “Yes. My first time out since the fire. I must say, I do like Meg. She’s very kind.”

  He nodded, and there was no hesitation as he said, “She is. She always has been.”

  “You know, you really do seem so much more at ease now that you’ve ended your feud with Simon,” she said.

  He cocked his head. “Is that what you think? That my reunion with Simon is the cause of my lightness?”

  “It is, isn’t it?”

  He caught both her hands in his and tugged until she staggered from her chair and into his lap. “I will admit that my reunion with my friends takes a weight from my shoulders that was terribly heavy. But if I am happy, if I am light, if I am at peace with the future…that, my dear, is all because of you.”

  She leaned down, brushing her lips against his. When she parted from him, she said, “I heard you and James talking about the wedding last night when we rejoined you two after your port. You know, now that my aunt is gone, there is no need to rush.”

  He lifted both brows. “I object to that statement. There is most definitely a need to rush. I adore you and I want to call you my wife as soon as possible.”

  She blushed. “When you say that it still doesn’t feel real to me sometimes.”

  He drew his fingers into her hair, gently cupping her scalp. Slowly, he guided her lips back to his, and just before he claimed her mouth once more, he said, “Well, I must endeavor to make it feel very real…right now.”

  And he kissed her, making everything right in his world once more. All because of her.

  Enjoy an exciting excerpt from

  The Silent Duke,

  out November 2017

  Charlotte tossed her maid an apologetic look as the carriage jerked on the slippery, sleety road. Sylvie looked terrified and Charlotte couldn’t blame her. It was the very worst of conditions. Cold permeated the carriage and the blankets tucked around them and rain slicked down the windows, hardening to ice within moments so that one couldn’t rightly see outside.

  Not that Charlotte needed to see the house to know it. When Ewan had inherited three years ago, his aunt had insisted on a ball to celebrate. She had come with Nathan and slipped away to memorize every line and cranny of Ewan’s home.

  She shook her head and reached out to touch Sylvie’s hand. “We’re almost there now, dear.”

  The girl’s teeth chattered as she said, “Y-Yes, my lady.”

  And as if she had timed it out, the carriage came to a stop at that very moment and it rocked as their driver and footman began to climb down. Charlotte heard voices, both those of her servants and of others rushing to help. She released her maid’s hand and straightened up, her heart racing as those outside struggled with the door. Finally it burst open and a swirl of cold air greeted her. She turned her face away from it and when she looked back there was Hargrove Castle, Ewan’s estate, looming behind her driver.

  “Be careful, my lady, the stairs are rightly slick,” Watson said as he offered her not one but two arms to support herself.

  She gingerly stepped down onto the drive and stretched her back, ignoring the icy rain that slashed across her face and dampened her hair. “Home,” she whispered.

  “I beg your pardon, my lady?” Watson said over his shoulder as he helped Sylvie down the same way.

  “Nothing, Watson. Do get as much help as you can with unloading. There is no rush, just be careful. I want no one hurt so that I can have extra gowns, do you understand?”

  He faced her with a bow. “Of course, my lady. Would you like Reggie’s help up the stairs to the house?”

  She glanced at the stone steps. “No, they look as though Smith has had them salted, smart man. I should be fine. And Sylvie, go in and warm up! There is truly no rush f
or my things.”

  Her maid nodded and followed another servant around to the back entrance to the house as half a dozen men came rushing to help unload the trunks and portmanteaus.

  The door opened as she reached the top and she raced inside the warm foyer. Smith was waiting for her and he shut out the cold and left her to drip onto his lovely, clean floor.

  “Oh Smith, we have survived,” she said, laughing as she reached up to touch her wet hair. She likely looked like a drowned rat standing before him, but he smiled at her in welcoming nonetheless.

  “My lady, how wonderful to see you,” he said, “May I take your coat and gloves? I do not see a hat?”

  “I took it off in the carriage and like a ninny forgot all about it when I got out,” she explained. “I must have been too excited to be here.”

  “And we are thrilled to have you, my lady. The roads are treacherous, we were worried.”

  She nodded. “They were indeed. We slid the entire last quarter mile. I know my servants have earned a good warm meal and a rest after that.”

  “We’re ready for them,” Smith assured her. “And their dinner shall be warming, indeed.”

  He was likely going to ask her more. Ask her about tea or showing her to her room. But before he could, Ewan stepped into the foyer. Well, into it was going too far. He stepped up to the edge of the foyer and stopped, just staring at her from across the room.

  And she stared back. She couldn’t help it. Every time she saw Ewan, he was more beautiful than the last time. He was tall, well over six feet, with broad shoulders and trim hips. He had blonde hair but it was too long and he never wore it in a queue so it fell around his face. A face he tried to cover with a beard, but that never worked. There was no covering up perfection.

  His brown gaze never moved from her and she swallowed hard as her body reacted to his presence and his stare and…just him. Always him. Only him. He was her everything and he had been for her entire life.