Page 103 of A Bride for the Forbidden Duke
Henry stiffened, tightening his jaw. “I have beenmiserable.” The confession sounded too loud, and Thomas nodded slowly, as if knowing it took a lot for him to admit such a thing. “And… Lonely in a way I didn’t think possible.”
He gazed outward at the dancers, wishing they were back in their dance, caught up in the orchestra’s spell.
“The other day… She was playing her pianoforte. She sang under her breath, and the sound… It was truly angelic. It… It froze me for a moment, utterly undone by her. But I could not approach, no matter how much I wished to. She… she deserves a man who can give her the world. She has endured me for long enough, and I am choosing to not hold her back.”
“But thatcanbe you, you stubborn mule,” Lady Sheridan snapped. “Or are you already deciding that you are not willing to make changes and sacrifices to be the man shedoesdeserve? She has endured your behavior, your coldness, your unwillingness to open up. But what you do not understand, Henry, is that she has been the sun, causing you to blossom—to finally open up. But she does not know that herself yet. If you have been so miserable without her then that speaks volumes, does it not?”
“I believe so,” Thomas chipped in. “I believe you are a stubborn mule, too, Henry.”
He did not argue for once in his life. He feared they were right. Veronica had opened him up, only for him to push her away and never see just how much she had changed him.
Thomas was correct. His aunt was correct. No matter how hard he had pushed her away, Veronica sprung right back, proving to him that he was worthy of being understood. Of being heard and listened to. She had undone him without him realizing it.
A groan vibrated in his throat as he tipped his head back against the wall.
Thomas let out a quiet laugh. “Lady Sheridan and I are right, and you hate it. No, do not give me that scowl.” He stepped away, taking Henry’s glass and finishing the remainder of his drink. “Just go and find your wife.”
“You had better listen to your friend, Henry,” Lady Sheridan said finally, “Go. And be happy for once.”
And so, she and Thomas disappeared into the crowd.
Henry’s gaze swept the room, searching for a flash of that azure blue she had worn tonight, looking exquisite, and he could not find her. She truly had fled. But he spotted Lady Grantham with another older woman, the two of them standing together, watching the buffet table as if to claim it when nobody looked.
Henry strode up to them, urgency in his steps. “Lady Grantham.”
Judith startled and turned to him. “Your Grac?—”
“Where is Veronica?” he asked, his eyes still searching, looking through every part in the crowd, but he could not spy her dark hair.
“I have not seen her since your dance together, Your Grace. Perhaps she is with Lord Grantham. She mentioned something about storytell?—”
Henry rushed off, bowing quickly, and sought out Robert, who was holding a small court, all hooked on his falsified tale of daring swordfights. He would not dispute the tales from his business partner, but he did interrupt.
“Lord Grantham, may I have a word?”
“Ah, Your Grace!” Robert said cheerfully. “You must have a hand in my storytelling! Lords and ladies, my wild encounter would not have been possible if not for this man?—”
“Where is the Duchess? Have you seen her?”
“I have not,” he confessed, frowning. “Are you quite all right?”
“I will be when I find my wife.”
He stalked away, head spinning left and right, searching for her.
Where was she? Where was his wife? He combed through the ballroom, the drawing room, and even the dining hall. Veronica was nowhere to be found, and his worry only increased.
A terrifying thought occurred to him that she had left him already.
He had betrayed her trust and affections by telling her they had nothing left to say. Had she fled the ball early, thinking there was nothing to stay for? She would not wait to return with her mother and brother?
The thought devastated him as he searched the rest of the manor, going up to her chambers. Her belongings had not been packed, and it loosened something in him. But a sight caught his attention out of the window.
From Veronica’s room, he saw her in the gardens, her head bowed, body curled over herself. She sat on a bench, highlighted by the manor’s lights. But his relief at finding her lasted only a moment when he saw a man melt out of the shadows.
A man Henry hoped he would never have to see again.
Henry ran for the gardens.
