Page 156 of Dukes Are Forever
He'd pushed Adele away, and for what?
Balfour had still tried to kill her. He'd nearly fucking succeeded, and the thought carved out something hollow within Malloryn's chest.
And he would try again. Malloryn had never been so certain of anything in his life.
So why not let himself have her, before it was too late? Why not… let her in? All the way in?
What are you so afraid of?
He was already losing her.
Malloryn found himself in front of the brandy decanter, but the second he lifted the stopper he paused. There was no answer to be found there either. It was merely another means to hide, to avoid facing his demons.
If he wanted a chance to make something of this marriage with Adele, then he had to confront them. He had to splay himself wide, to admit she'd managed to unearth the very heart of his vulnerability. Not drown his sorrows.
Glass clinked as Malloryn slowly stoppered the decanter.
He refused to let himself think about it as he hurried up the stairs to the bedchambers they shared at Hardcastle Lane.
There was no sound of anyone within the room, but he could sense her perfume. Malloryn eased the door open and belatedly rapped with his knuckles.
"Adele?"
She lay tucked up in bed, a blanket splayed over her hips. Dressed in her nightgown, her hair unpinned and draped across the pillow.
Tension lingered in the curve of her spine, which faced him, and he could hear the soft intake of her breath as she heard the door click closed behind him.
He'd never been uncertain of his welcome in this room, but he was now.
"May I speak to you for a moment?"
"I thought you had matters of the realm to see to."
He sighed and eased onto the edge of the mattress. "I think this is more important, right now. Isn't it?"
Adele's head turned as if he'd said something intriguing, the pillow rustling. But she didn't answer.
And it was clear she didn't intend to.
No. This time it was his turn to extend the olive branch.
"I have a confession to make," he murmured. He reached out, brushing his finger down her cheek. It came away wet.
He'd been right.
Even here, in the silence of her bedchambers she'd been afraid to give voice to her sadness. He would have heard her sobbing. And each sound would have felt like a lash against his soul, but the fact that she'd been determined to keep him from hearing her cry only hurt him more.
"You scare the hell out of me," he admitted, rubbing her tear between thumb and forefinger. "You always have, and sometimes it's easier to keep you at arm's length, where I don't have to confront the way I feel about you."
Adele rolled onto her back, as if surprised. "How you feel about me?"
He traced the curve of her lower lip. "You are an amazing woman and I see it every day. And I want it. I want you. I want to make something of our marriage. I want…. I want a child with you. A future. Even as I dare not take it. To reach for it is to risk losing it, and I don't know if I can bear its loss. Not again. I have lost enough."
"Catherine," she whispered.
He bowed his head. "Catherine, yes. But more than that: Everything. Myself. My father. The concept of love. The very core of who I was, who my mother raised me to be. I feel as though I somehow destroyed myself. Not Balfour." His mouth tasted like ash. "Me."
"I don't understand."
