Page 95 of Her Beast of a Duke
“What?”
“Why are you insistent on turning her against you?”
Oscar stilled, and something deeply buried in him pulsed with a second of life. “Because… because then she will not loathe me so much later, when I reveal my whole, true self to her.”
“You are so desperate to prove this misconception wrong that you cannot see what you have lost on a baseless, awful rumor. Oscar, you are not a beast. A man with violence that was trained into him through war, a man with scars, is not a beast. You are simply a man with a past. A past you did not ask for. Listen to me.”
“I will not?—”
“Oh, you will,” Edmund laughed humorlessly. “You will, because I am your friend, and if you will not hear it from me, then you will hear it from nobody. You entered the army to escape your incorrigible, despicable parents, but you are still punishing yourself for things you did not ask to go through. But you know what you are doing? You are hurting your wife through this punishment. You are hurting yourself.”
Edmund sagged back, shaking his head.
“When will you let yourself be forgiven? Oscar, you cannot atone for every life you could not save, but youare just a man.One man cannot save a whole battalion. One man cannot be held responsible for the loss of lives in war. One man cannot shoulder what your parents put you through, so why do you still force yourself when happiness is right there in front of you with a beautiful face and a kind soul that has endured your temperament?”
“Edmund—” Oscar’s voice was strained, but his friend still shook his head.
“She has looked your darkness in the eyes, and she has still wanted to stay. She has not left to get away from you, or because she fears you. She has likely left because she is hurting and will continue to for as long as you allow yourself to wallow.”
“Please leave.” The plea came out unbidden, and Oscar hated how vulnerable he sounded.
In that moment, he was a young man pleading with his family to still want him. He was still a paraded boy in the ton, hoping he had performed well enough for approval until the next time. He was still the man who had clawed his way out of an attempted death by poison, wondering why he was so unlovable?
How could he let any of that go?
“Oscar.” Edmund’s voice softened considerably as he finally sat down. “Oscar, I do not like seeing you like this. You are hurting, and you do not deserve to, but you are putting that pain on the one woman who has stood at your side, no matter what.”
“She deserved better than to see me lose control at that ball.”
“Perhaps, but that was one night?—”
“And if there are others?”
“You do not scare her, Oscar. Has she ever told you that? I can see it in her eyes when she looks at you. It is not the look of a lady on eggshells, waiting for her husband’s next outburst. It is the look of sheer adoration. Do not tell me you do not see it.”
“Of course I see it,” he snarled. “That is why it terrifies me. I will let her down.”
“Oscar,” Edmund groaned. “I saw how you looked at Isabella’s sister’s family. You want that. I wanted to ask you about it, maybe tease you, but I am seriously asking you this now. What is stopping you from having that? We all have our demons, my friend, but it takes a woman like Isabella to look squarely at your particular demons and stay grounded. And she has not run from you, not really. Not for that reason, at least.”
Oscar turned his face away, both angry and ashamed. He was thoroughly berated and forced to face himself, and he could not stand it.
He did not deserve Isabella; he did not deserve the easy happiness she offered him. He did not deserve nights of pleasure and days of laughter, not when he carried such heavy burdens.
But there was a small voice in his head that asked,What if you do?
If you can just learn to live alongside what you have been through rather than fight it. What if you do, because she has proven that she wants to stay?
“I will not ask you again, Edmund,” Oscar said, his voice barely a whisper. “Leave. Leave me alone.”
“Then I will, but I only ask that you think over what I have said.”
“Fine,” he muttered, waving his hand dismissively.
Edmund took another moment, fixed his cream-colored cravat, and stood up. He left the study door open on his way out.
Oscar could not even find the strength to close it.
Chapter Twenty-Five
