Page 67 of Matters of a Duke's Heart
“I love you, and I have always known you were my perfect duchess. You were never just a name on a list. I gravitated toward you for a reason. I sought you for a reason. The day I met you, I never knew how you would turn my life upside completely,but I do not ever want it to be the way it once was. It was a miserable, lonely existence. You bring joy to my laugh, my wife. My love.”
In her dream, Felicity crumpled while Helena giggled at the confession, and Felicity knew. As soon as she woke up she had to find a way to leave Spencer for good. She could not stay in a marriage where his heart belonged to another.
Chapter 22
Two days passed in wretched silence. Spencer did not tear his gaze from his wife’s pale face, and even when he slept it was only when his body shut down into fits of restless slumber.
In his dreams, he saw Felicity fall from the balcony. He had chased her through that infernally crowded ballroom at her mother’s ball, slowed down by comments from surprised guests who had been told, for some reason, that he was not due to attend.
Spencer had ignored them all to launch himself toward Lord Radcliffe, who Spencer had approached in time to see him knock Felicity aside. Rupert had come thundering up the staircase of the balcony, sweeping Daphne into an easy, strong embrace, but Felicity had already fallen.
Spencer had shouted for her, his arm outstretched as she fell in a flutter of skirts and waves of her hair splayed out. When she had hit the ground, her eyes had been closed, and Spencer had feared the worst, diving down the stairs to drop to her side.
He had carried her upstairs himself, ranting like a lunatic for a physician immediately.
He flexed his fingers now, the bruises still there from where he had punched Lord Radcliffe, threatening him to never, ever go near his wife or extended family again.
Leaning in close, Spencer had warned him that he knew of his debtors, and should Radcliffe ever lift a finger or accusation or advance against the Merriweathers, Spencer would happily use his connections to set his debtors onto him, and they often only hunted men down with one way of delivering a message.
But now, he had been in Merriweather House for two days, pouring out everything he had not said to Felicity when he should have. He told her she was the perfect duchess, that she was not just a name on a list—that she had become much more than that.
And then those words had dared slip past his lips: I love you.
He wanted to tell Felicity when she was awake. He knew he was ready for it.
His eyes tracked her face, so he saw the first flutter of her eyelashes, the first crease of her forehead as she began to slowly awaken.
A soft groan escaped his wife, and Spencer could not move fast enough to take her hand. “Felicity?”
Her body stiffened, and his stomach dropped. “Spencer?” Heavens, her voice was terribly hoarse. Panicking, he reached for the jug of water he refreshed every day in case she needed it. He poured her a glass, and as her eyes fully opened, baring those spring-green eyes, Spencer wondered how he had ever let her walk of out Bluebell Manor’s door.
“You are awake,” he breathed.
“I feel like I have fallen from a very great height,” she mumbled, lifting a hand to her head. She winced as she touched the bruise there.
“You hit your head on the balcony pillar as you fell.” Spencer frowned. “How are you feeling?”
“Foggy,” she answered. “But all right. I… my vision is not what it should be. It is all very blurry.”
“That could be the head wound. The physician reported that while you sustained a sprained ankle and bruised tailbone from your fall, the blow to your head was what made you unconscious for two days—”
“Two days?” she cried out.
Spencer nodded grimly. “You should have heard your sister. I have never heard such an outburst from such a small lady. I do believe she scared off the physician.”
Spencer couldn’t help noticing how Felicity wouldn’t properly look at him, not even when she took the glass of water he offered.
“Daphne is well,” he quickly assured her. “And I… got into an altercation with Lord Radcliffe.” He offered her his bruised knuckles. “I have ordered the wretched man from town entirely, threatened with his debtors. Did you know he was in a lot of debt and had his eye on your sister’s dowry?”
She shook her head and winced. “No, but I guessed as much.” After a moment she added, “Thank you.”
“You do not have to thank me.”
Finally, her gaze lifted to him. Her slender neck bobbed with a swallow. “And what of Lady Helena?”
Spencer frowned. “What… of her?”
“It does not matter,” she said quickly.
