Page 86 of A Virgin for the Duke of Scars
Back at the convent, she had always imagined what it would be like to get married one day. At least, she had when she was a little girl. As she got older and closer to taking her vows, those daydreams faded away. But she had never known that falling in love would feel like this.
She ached when Aaron was not near. Every moment they had spent together only made her fall deeper in love with him. When she was not with him, she felt compelled to seek him out. Her thoughts often strayed to him, despite herself.
And it wasn’t just the things he did to her that made her love him. It was the tender way he looked at her. The way he handled her kitten. The way he saw who she really was and let her ride on horseback to a party where he knew they would be judged.
He saw her for who she was and was all right with that.
Why, then, did he refuse to let her see the real him?
Theresa sank onto the bed and buried her face in her hands. The tears came faster now, sliding down her cheeks and splashing onto the silk skirt of her gown. She hoped Juliette would not return to find her like this.
Her shoulders shook as sobs tore out of her. She reached behind her to undo the laces of her dress, in a bid to breathe a bit more easily. But she found no relief from her heartbreak.
And so she curled up in her bed. She was struck again by how large the bed was just for one person. No, this bed was made for a couple. Aaron was supposed to visit her every night, but they had never made it that far.
Theresa dove beneath the duvet and pressed her face into her plush pillow, hoping it would smother her wails. She had no other way to alleviate the pain in her heart.
She cried for longer than she thought possible. Still, her tears refused to ebb. It felt like there was no end to her sorrow at the possibility of her marriage ending.
Eventually, her sobs faded to small hiccups, and she drifted off to a restless sleep.
Aaron could not sleep, not knowing that Theresa was mere hours away from taking her leave from Blackwell Manor. He did not know if she would ever return to him. The thought of her absence from the estate made his whole body feel heavy with the loss. How could he have damaged his relationship with his wife completely just by making love to her?
Lady Isabella had gotten under her skin. The only small comfort was that Isabella would be dealt with accordingly. That she would never be able to cause this much strife between him and Theresa ever again. She would be long gone from thetonby the time his wife decided to return from her visit.
Ifshe decided to return from her visit.
Unable to sleep, Aaron headed to the stables to tack up Midnight. He needed to get out of this manor and out ofhis predicament. When Midnight saw him coming, he quietly nickered for him and stood quietly as Aaron took the saddle from its place on the wall, placing it on the horse’s back.
“She can’t leave,” Aaron told the horse quietly. “She just can’t leave like this. Not after all we have been through.”
Midnight did not understand the words Aaron spoke, but he breathed onto Aaron’s shoulder as if he did. It was all he needed to sigh deeply, to let go of the breath he had not realized he was holding.
Aaron slipped the bridle over the horse’s head and grabbed the reins, hoisting himself up in one smooth movement. The memory of his wife sitting astride a horse beside him hovered at the edges of his mind. Tonight, he would ride alone.
He did not know exactly where he was going, but he urged Midnight out of the stables through theton’sstreets at a canter. The wind blew in his hair, giving him the disheveled appearance that he felt so keenly. The cool night air surrounded him, touching him everywhere except under the mask.
This cursed mask.
It was the reason for his entire predicament. The reason his wife was about to leave him, the reason he had ruined the night they first made love. He had been honest with her from the beginning that he would not remove it in her presence, but she had been insistent.
Aaron did not realize where he was going until he pulled his horse up short just outside Morgan’s estate.
He grabbed the reins and pulled them over the horse’s head, placing him inside one of the empty stalls in Morgan’s stables. The stall already had clean water, which Midnight drank deeply from their vigorous run through the city streets.
“I’ll be back for you soon,” he promised the horse.
He burst into the back door of the Duke of Hiverville’s estate, but he was greeted with silence. The usual hustle and bustle of the servants was missing at this late hour. Everyone was asleep, but he desperately needed to talk to his friend, so he marched through the estate to Morgan’s chambers.
“Morgan, I know you’re in there,” he called through the door, banging it with his fist. “Get out of bed and let me in.”
He heard the sounds of someone rising from the bed and putting on clothes.
“What are you doing here in the middle of the night?” Morgan asked, anger flickering over his features. “I should think you are having some type of emergency with the way you have barged in here.”
“I needed a friend, and it turns out, you are the best I have,” Aaron said with a smile he did not feel. “Now, let’s have a drink.”
He let himself into Morgan’s chambers and sat at the small table with the decanter of whiskey. Morgan’s chambers were not so different from his own—set apart from the rest of the estate, filled with things he did not share with the rest of theton, and always well-stocked with whiskey.
