Page 3 of How to Seduce a Duke this Autumn
Charlene?
Raised, sharp.
Hope flickered that maybe his brother’s target this time was one of the older, more experienced society women. Someone who could deflect David’s charm better than a young debutante. But Charlene? No. Charlene deserved better. She deserved everything.His everything.
And then he heard her cry out. Not uncertain, not playful. A cry edged with panic.
The dread turned into fury, red-hot and all-consuming. Adam shoved the library door open in a flash. “Hey!”
The scene before him hit like a blow to the gut. Charlene sat on the settee in the middle of the room, cheeks flushed and breathing ragged. Her hands trembled, clutching a jagged shard of porcelain. David staggered a few steps back, blood dripping from a cut on his face as he clutched his jaw, a predatory glint lingering in his eyes.
For a moment, no one moved, the air so thick with tension it felt impossible to breathe. Then Charlene’s trembling voice cut through the haze, pleading for an end to it all.
What followed was a chaotic blur. Servants ushering them apart, hushed whispers and judgmental glances from the few who had dared to look inside the drawing room. Adam had shielded Charlene as best he could, helping her gather herself, his touch gentle but firm as he led her from the room. He didn’t look back at his brother. He couldn’t.
Now, standing on the townhouse steps as the cool night air pressed against his face, Adam was still reeling. He watched the carriage before him, watched Charlene retreat into its shadowed confines, unable to shake the memory of her broken expression as she whispered her gratitude. She’d been so quiet, so withdrawn, the Charlene he knew buried under the weight of what had just transpired.
The door shut behind her with a finality that made his stomach twist. The carriage jolted forward, its wheels crunching against the gravel, and all Adam could do was watch.
He thought it couldn’t get worse.
Thought that the hurt in her eyes, the lifeless way she had clung to his coat, was the worst thing he’d feel tonight. But as the carriage disappeared into the darkness, dread settled deep in his chest.
There were no words, no promises, no actions that could undo what had just happened. David’s smirk flashed unbidden in his mind, and Adam’s fists clenched tight at his sides. Furysurged within him, an inferno that threatened to consume him entirely. His brother had done this, shattered everything. He swore to himself, then and there, that David would not go unpunished.
But even vengeance wasn’t enough to dull the ache in his chest. For all the storms David deserved, for all the retribution Adam promised himself, the one thing he couldn’t stop was the image of Charlene’s pale face as the carriage rattled away into the night.
Tonight was supposed to be different. Adam had returned from university full of hope and stolen moments of anticipation. He’d imagined a hundred ways he might finally tell Charlene how he felt. How he’d always felt. He’d convinced himself that with his degree in hand and his life’s path laid out before him, she might finally see him as more than just a friend. It had been the last thing his father had asked about, whether the Cross and Fielding families would finally join. The logical marriage of two families—yes—but the greatest wish in his heart.
But now, all of it was ash. She hadn’t seen him tonight—not the real him. All she could see was David’s brother. His twin. The same face that had brought her shame and anguish, mere hours ago.
“You’re all the same!” she’d cried, her mouth wobbling and tears falling from her cheeks down to her chin.
She was right to doubt him. He hadn’t protected her. All his clever plans, all his careful thoughts about the future didn’t matter. When Charlene needed him most, he’d failed.
Adam exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. His legs carried him automatically toward his home, the heavy weight of responsibility growing with every step. He’d deal with David tomorrow. He’d make his brother understand how far he’d gone, how unforgivable his actions were. But first, he needed to think. He needed to…
The moment he crossed the threshold, the air shifted. The low hum of peace he usually associated with the house was gone, replaced by a strange tension that tightened the walls and warped the corners of his vision.
And then he heard it.
His mother’s sobs.
Adam froze. The sound curdled his blood, sharp and raw. Slowly, he followed the noise to the drawing room, every nerve in his body on edge.
She was there, gripping the newel post of the grand staircase, clutching a handkerchief to her face. Her shoulders shook with every wracking sob. A maid hovered nearby, pale and helpless, unsure whether to comfort or retreat.
Adam’s mouth went dry. “Mother?”
She looked up, her tear-streaked face crumpling the moment she saw him. “Oh, Adam…” she whispered, choking on the words.
Panic flared in his chest. He strode forward and knelt in front of her, taking her icy hands in his own. “What is it? What’s happened?”
She shook her head, her lips trembling. “Your father…”
The world tilted. Adam barely registered his own voice as it broke.Father?
“He’s gone.” The words tumbled out on a sob, shattering the space between them. “He passed in his sleep, not an hour ago. Oh, Adam, my boy…”
