Page 50 of The Duke's Carriage Window
She had retreated to her bedchamber each night after dinner and had taken to sleeping in later in order to miss their breakfasts on the terrace. He had been so busy dealing with estate matters and considering what to do about Crell that he had not realized the change in her behavior until a couple of days ago. She had more callers each day, more rides in the park. Mrs. Petersham had insisted he should not attend those outings or else Meredith would not be comfortable with her suitors, though he suspected it had more to do with those suitors being uncomfortable around him.
Now he was seeing his life clearly for the first time in two weeks, and it wasn’t a happy one…because he’d driven Meredith away from him. All because of his fears.
Meredith knew what he thought of her marriage prospects and Frances was desperately trying to help the girl find a husband quickly to escape him.
Words failed him. He stared at her, pain driving a wedge between them.
“Please go back inside, Your Grace,” she said quietly. “I will return on my own soon. I simply need a moment to collect myself.”
“No.” He shouldn’t have said it, but his refusal slipped out before he could stop himself.
She stared at him, her lips parted in shock.
“If you stay out here, I shall remain with you,” he said. “For as long as is required.”
“But you can’t. And I need to be alone. I…” She wiped the tears that had begun streaming down her face.
“Meredith, the last thing you need is to be alone. What you heard in the ballroom was…” He took another few steps toward her.
“It was what you feared would happen. What you knew would happen.” She sniffled and wiped at her cheeks with one gloved hand.
He could only nod. His throat had tightened so that he couldn’t speak for a moment.
“You were right,” she said quietly. “I thought I could prepare myself for such cruel words, but…” She sniffled again. Darius took a chance to move closer still. He was now within arm’s reach of her.
“Please, just go,” Meredith begged him, her voice breaking on the words.
“No,” he said again, stronger this time.
She swiped the backs of her hands across her eyes. “I must look dreadful. I can’t go in looking like this.”
“On that we agree.” He reached for her but she pulled away. “You heard me speaking to Frances about this, didn’t you?” he asked.
Meredith nodded, and the misery on her face cut him deep. Deep enough that he found it hard to breathe.
“I never meant to hurt you. You will make someone a wonderful wife.”
She dropped her head. “But not you.” Darius had never hated himself more than he did at that moment. Before he could respond, she turned and ran deeper into the gardens.
“Meredith!” he called out, still trying to keep his voice down as he chased her. She took half a dozen turns before she ran into a dead end, and he blocked her escape by holding his arms out.
“Move!” she demanded.
“No.”
“Stop saying that!” She stomped her foot. It was so angry and yet so feminine that Darius would have smiled, only he felt too wretched inside to feel any joy. The heavy clouds above began to break, and the stone path was soon sprinkled with rain droplets.
“We must go back inside now, or we will both be drenched,” she said.
“Not until I’ve said a few things,” Darius replied, his voice as rough as the gravel beneath her dancing slippers. He towered over her, but she didn’t shrink away this time. It gave him hope to continue.
“Meredith. You are beautiful, clever, and kind.” His eyes held her in place, and the rain drops were icy cold against his slowly heating skin as he continued to say the words he’d been holding in for so long. “You fascinate and inspire me. If I could freely choose my wife, it would be you, without doubt or hesitation.”
“But a duke has no choice?” Her tone was bitter.
“Tonight you witnessed how society would treat you. I cannot watch you endure that.”
“You never asked me what I wanted. What if I were willing to endure that for you?” she asked, her face pale again as the rain grew heavier.
