Page 83 of A Bride for the Cruel Duke

Times were that Anthony might have chastised Mr. Jefferies, or any member of his staff, for interrupting him after they had been told not to. But times had changed, and Anthony couldn’t find it in himself to do so.

“What is it, Mr. Jeffries?” he sighed.

“A letter, Your Grace.” Mr. Jeffries pulled up before Anthony, holding out the letter. “It is?—”

“Leave it in my office,” Anthony said. “Whoever it is from, I am sure it can wait.”

“But, Your Grace...” He grimaced nervously, knowing better than to argue with Anthony. “The letter is not for you. It is... His Grace, Duke Aldworth sent it to be read at once. Apparently, it was delivered to him just this morning.”

Anthony frowned. “It is not for me, but Roderick sent it to me—what are you saying Mr. Jeffries? Speak sense!”

“It is a letter that has been sent to near every member of the peerage in London, Your Grace. And its contents...” He winced. “They concern you and Her Grace. It is imperative that you read it.”

Anthony’s stomach twisted as he understood finally what this letter likely contained. Although it was not official, he and Caroline would be putting an end to their marriage, probably through the process of annulling the union entirely. His guess was that she had taken the initiative, a final nail in the coffin.

Although, why she had then seen fit to send a letter out announcing such a thing...

Anthony took the letter and scanned it quickly. Or he meant to, but paused before finished the first sentence. His blood began to boil as he started again. His jaw clenched tight. His foot began to tap. Anger was what took him. Anger and disbelief over what he was reading.

The letter spoke of a necessary dissolution of his marriage. Phrases such as “She was lucky to escape without serious injury,”and “The horrors that she was subjected to during their brief time together,”stuck out specifically. The picture painted in this letter was one of a damsel in distress, forced into a marriage that was not her fault, subjected to torture and terror the likes of which nobody should have to endure.

“This...” Anthony was shaking. “This was sent to others?”

“Dozens of copies, I am told,” Mr. Jeffries said.

He might have laughed, were it not so shocking. Times were that Anthony would not have cared less about a letter such as this one. His reputation was that of the Cruel Duke, after all, and what was said in this correspondence was nothing new to him. If anything, he might have embraced it, a further chance to solidify himself as one not to be messed with. But times had changed.

He found now that he cared about what people thought of him. He was not a monster, and if Caroline could see that, then why couldn’t others? What was more, helikedhow it felt to be liked, rather than feared.

Beyond that, he thought of Caroline, knowing that she had not penned this letter, as it had painted her as a victim and she was most certainly not that. She was strong. She was assured. She was more than what this letter said of her. A more self-possessed woman he had never met! And this... this sullied her name even more than it did his.

Was that not the point? Did I not send her away because I did not want to admit how much I cared about her? This letter and what it says should not affect me at all. What does it matter what people say of a woman who I spurned?

The lies were becoming harder for Anthony to swallow, such that it was impossible for him to believe what he said or how he felt. He did not enjoy not caring about others. He did not relish being alone. And he hated thinking about the woman he loved being in pain because of him.

What was more, he hadn’t driven Caroline away for the reasons he had told her. The exact opposite! He loved Caroline more than he’d ever loved before, and as he held that letter in his hand, his body shaking with rage, he knew that to deny that truth for any longer would be to see him break completely.

A lifetime spent being the Cruel Duke and he was sick to death of pretending. That wasn’t who he was. It never had been. Now, it was time that he proved it.

“I have to go.” Anthony strode past Mr. Jeffries, a decision made.

“Your Grace!” Mr. Jeffries ran after him. “The letter! A response! Do you wish to?—”

“I will deal it with, Mr. Jeffries,” he called over his shoulder. And he would, too.

He did not care about the letter—at least not in regard to himself. What he cared about was Caroline and how it had made her look. She was not a weak, helpless maiden. She was not a prisoner. She was the hero who had slain the beast, not through fury, but through kindness.

It was time now for Anthony to do the same for her.

Epilogue

“Daniel! Come back here!” Caroline powered across the garden as she chased down her older brother. “We need to talk!”

“And, as I told you, I have nothing to say!” Daniel did not turn around. He was heading in the direction of the stables, which sat beyond the edges of the back garden.

“I do not care! Will you stop and listen to me?”

Daniel sighed loudly as he stopped walking. Back to her, she saw him shake his head and run his hand through his hair. He was angry with her, she could tell. Annoyed that she had dared to question his authority. Not something that he was used to, clearly. Also, not something that she was used to either.

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