Page 88 of A Virgin for the Duke of Scars
However, she could not dwell on the matter this morning. She had a duty to Juliette and the Dowager Duchess. She would not leave without bidding them a proper goodbye. And she was hungrier than she had thought she would be, having skipped dinner the night before.
When the maid knocked to see if she needed assistance getting ready for the day, Theresa invited her in.
The maid helped her out of the gown she had fallen asleep in. Theresa then donned a fresh day dress, and the maid pinned her hair into a chignon at the back of her head.
When she looked in the mirror, she avoided her own eyes, lest they betray her emotions. She could see only herself the night Aaron undressed her in front of that same mirror.
A blush crept up her chest to her neck, before she looked away from the mirror and plastered on a smile.
“I believe I am wanted at the breakfast table, Emma,” she said, before dismissing the maid.
She needed a moment to herself before she had to face her sister-in-law and the Dowager Duchess. She took a deep breath, as deep as she could with her tight corset.
This was the best she was going to do this morning, she decided. It was time to face the family she had grown to care for.
She stepped out of her room and slowly made her way to the breakfast room.
The two ladies were already seated at the table, Juliette sipping her tea while the Dowager Duchess spread butter on her toast. Her eyes immediately strayed to the empty chair at the head. Aaron skipped so many meals that it had not crossed her mind to find him there.
Juliette offered a tentative smile as Theresa took the seat across from her. The Dowager Duchess studied her carefully before giving her a tight smile, one that did not reach her eyes.
Theresa realized that both women already knew, or at the very least suspected, what had happened at the party. Their absence from the event would not have gone unnoticed. Coupled with her husband holed up once more in his tower, Theresa thought they could not have been any more obvious about their predicament.
“My husband is not going to join us,” Theresa rasped.
It was more of a question than a statement. She needed to brace herself if the other ladies thought he would join them at the table.
“He will not be joining us,” Juliette said softly.
Theresa felt both relief and overwhelming sadness. This was her last meal at Blackwell Manor, and she would not see her husband. She would not ask him to come see her off.
She would disappear from his life just as quietly as she had come.
Instead of saying anything, she looked down at the plate in front of her and dug into the strawberry pastry she had tasted on her first day exploring Blackwell Manor. Since learning it was her favorite, the chef put it into heavy rotation. But today, it did not bring her comfort. She would miss so many things about the manor, the cook’s specialties included.
“Do you wish to know why he is not joining us?”
Theresa raised her eyes to meet the Dowager Duchess’s gaze. She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and set down her fork. Whatever they had to say to her, she would hear it and hold back her tears until she was alone once more.
“Why is he not joining us?” She asked in a shaky voice.
“He went out to escort Lady Isabella and her father to the Congregation of St. Agatha, where she will take her vows,” Juliette replied.
Theresa felt her heart stutter in her chest. The revelation sank into her gut like a rock in water.
Lady Isabella would live the life that she herself had been destined for just months ago. How could Aaron let the woman he loved live in a place like that?
Theresa was positive that Lady Isabella would incur Mother Superior’s wrath. She winced at the thought of the scars that crisscrossed her back.
Lady Isabella would be just as ruined as she was. After her charmed life in London, she might never adjust to the harsh life of a nun.
“Good for them,” she forced out. “I hope she finds peace there. Because I have completely lost mine.”
“People in love always do,” Juliette murmured.
Theresa stared at her, not sure what to make of that. She had thought as much in the privacy of her chambers last night. Why else would she cry so much over a man who did not care for her, if not for love?
But she could not possibly love someone who did not love her back.
