Page 90 of The Duke and Lady Scandal
“Because I know myself.” He’d been someone else, or thought he could be, for a few idyllic days, but he couldn’t be that man and catch a criminal like M.
“You deserve better than a man who becomes so obsessed with his work that he doesn’t eat or sleep for days. One who, at those times, can’t be bothered with kindnesses or basic niceties to the people around him.”
She dipped her head, and he suspected she was debating between a dozen retorts whizzing through her clever mind.
“There are days when Helen and I don’t even speak to each other. Each of us is so wrapped up in our work. It would be hard for anyone to live with.”
“I become consumed with work too,” she said with irritated vehemence. “My research. The shop. I don’t know what to do with myself when I’m not at Princes.”
She was a lady who yearned to be useful, to help, and he quite loved that about her.
“You deserve better. You always have. Better than being a child confined to bed with illnesses, subjected to the whims of a foolish doctor. Better than being left behind while your siblings went off on adventures without you.”
“I made it through all of that just fine.” She squared her shoulders, edged up her chin. That defiance had helped her make it through those years, and he so admired her for it.
“Of course you did, because you’re strong. Willful. And you thrive on independence now. If you choose to let someone into your life, they should give themselves to you fully.”
“And you can’t? You won’t?”
Everything in him wanted to tell her he could. That he’d give anything, do anything, to have her, to love and champion and support her. Whatever the status of his rusted-over heart, it was hers.
Hewas the problem. He’d made himself singularly focused over the last decade. Taken the most challenging cases. Done whatever Haverstock asked of him.
“I do not believe the world is a hopeful place like you do. I wake from nightmares of what I’ve seen and done for this job. I become consumed with it. Lost in it.”
She stepped closer, laid a hand on his arm. A gentle, warm, grounding touch. “Then perhaps you need someone to pull you back. Someone to love you through that.”
“And if you came to resent the effort of pulling me back from the abyss? I would lose you.”
Ben was grateful she didn’t rush in with a rebuttal. He could see her imagining that sort of life, that sort of responsibility.
“Perhaps you could find a balance,” she said quietly, though he could see in her eyes that she wasn’t certain he could.
“Cases like this turn me into something no one could live with—cold, hard, unfeeling. You saw it in me last night. Impatience and desperation to put things right.”
“I did, and it scared me a little.”
Bless her for being so thoroughly honest. He’d adored that from the moment he met her.
“I need to be that man now. Single-minded. Utterly focused. It will take nothing less to find this puppeteer.”
“And I am a distraction.”
“The greatest of my life. But there’s more.” He reached into his pocket. “He’s been watching me.”
She took the two images, curious and eager, and he saw the moment her expression turned to one of horror.
“And me, apparently.”
“I believe the break-in at your shop is linked to these photographs. They were delivered to Haverstock this morning.”
“For what purpose?”
“To prove that I am unfit to continue on the case because of my connection with you.”
Alexandra pressed a hand to her throat. “I never meant for this to affect your career—”
“No, no, that’s not my concern.” The shock ofhow much he’d changed in a little over a week struck him. “I want to solve this. Imprison him so that he can cause no more harm.”
