Page 92 of His Forbidden Duchess
Percy let out an exasperated sigh, crossing his arms. “More than what? More than a man who thinks of her every second he is not near her? More than someone who is properly miserable without her?” He gave Felix a pointed look. “If she is all you think about, then you know what you have to do. Go back.”
Felix glowered and ground his teeth at the thought. “And do what, Percy? Pretend I am someone that I am not? I am the same debauched man that I have always been. Eloise deserves someone better. Jeremy was right.”
“Better?” Percy scoffed, shaking his head. “Let me tell you something aboutbetter, Felix. There is no such thing as a perfect man, least of all in love. What she deserves is someone who genuinely cares for her and shows her every day how special sheis to him, despite his own flaws and misgivings. I have never seen you care about anything or anyone the way you do about her.”
“Since when did you become so wise?” Felix muttered, not looking at him.
“I have always been wise,” Percy said with a shrug. “You have just never taken any notice.”
Felix fell silent as he played his hand, throwing any card into the center of the table without even looking at it. He knew Percy was right, but he felt equally certain that Jeremy was right. Jeremy’s scornful words replayed in his mind.
You will only break her heart.
He took another drink, the brandy burning as it ran down his throat. “It is too late,” he murmured, his voice hollow. “I left her. I made my choice.”
“Choices can be unmade,” Percy said quietly, his tone laced with a rare seriousness. “She deserves a man who will fight for her, who will be there for her always. And if that man is you, Felix, then it is time to stop running.”
Felix looked down at the cards in his hand, the once-familiar game lost to him. The shame of his own doubts and the thought of returning to Eloise and risking her rejection roiled in hisstomach, but Percy’s words latched onto his mind, refusing to let go.
Without a word Felix stood, tossing the cards onto the table. Percy arched an eyebrow, watching him carefully.
“Leaving so soon?”
As he stepped into the cool night air, Felix inhaled deeply.
Maybe Percy was right and maybe he wasn’t. All Felix knew was that he had to get out of the gaming hell. He had to find some way to calm the gale in his mind.
He wandered through the busy London streets, watching people bustle about their business and gazing into shop windows when something caught his eye. He paused, allowing the events of the past few weeks to engulf him as he looked into the window of a softly lit shop.
He suddenly knew what he had to do and stepped through its doorway, the bell ringing overhead as he entered.
Later that evening, the door clicked shut behind Felix and the quiet of his London residence enveloped him. He moved through the darkened hall, his footsteps echoing against the cold marble floors. Even the servants had retired to bed.
The rooms were dimly lit, save for the glow of embers still crackling in the hearth, remnants of a fire that seemed to mock him with its faint warmth.
He loosened his cravat and shrugged off his tailcoat, tossing it carelessly over the back of a chair. He checked his trouser pockets for the precious thing he had bought that afternoon, wondering if he would ever have the courage to use it.
The deafening silence pressed in on him until he thought he could hear Eloise’s laughter weaving through it, her ghostly presence haunting him all the way from Kingswell Manor.
Felix closed his eyes for a moment to banish her from his mind, but the image only became clearer. Eloise, curled up with a book by the fire, her eyes alight with some hidden mischief as she turned the page. She had a way of making any room feel alive with a radiant energy that he had taken for granted until it was gone.
He swallowed, pushing back the ache in his throat as he shook his head.
With a sigh, he walked over to the sideboard where a crystal decanter half full of brandy awaited him. He poured a glass, watching the amber liquid swirl before he took a long, slow drink.
Eloise deserved so much more than his doubts and the mistakes he couldn’t seem to stop making.
He only wished he could find some way to remove her from his mind and erase her from his memories.
Setting his glass aside, Felix moved to the small writing desk by the window and pulled out a sheet of fine parchment. His fingers trembled as he picked up the quill, the ink pooling at its tip while he waited for inspiration to strike.
What could he write? What did he want to say?
Anything. Everything. Nothing.
My dearest Eloise,he began, the words looking foreign and stark against the blank page. His heart raced as his unspoken words begged to be put to paper.
What could he say that would make her understand the depths of his regret—the countless nights he had spent thinking of her, missing her, longing for just one more moment in her presence. Yet every time he tried to put his thoughts into words, they felt feeble and inadequate.
