Page 66 of The Duke's Unclaimed Bride
The song ended, and she all but pushed him away. She curtsied deeply, her eyes shimmering.
“It was lovely to dance with you, Your Grace,” she said curtly. “I need some air now.”
“Edith, wait!” Laurence called out as she hurried away from him in the direction of the large doors that separated the ballroom from the rest of the estate.
He stayed on her heels, shadowing her breakneck path to the silent library, his heart thumping in his chest.
I can’t lose her. Not like this.
The library was blessedly dark, save for the moonlight spilling through the curtains. Her back was to him, but he could see her shoulders shaking. He carefully closed the door behind him, but the soft click seemed to act as a signal.
She spun to face him, her eyes glassy with tears.
“Edith, why?—”
“You arrogant, hypocritical man!” she snapped.
Laurence was taken aback by her ire. She’d never spoken to him like that before.
“Wait, Edith, I can explain,” he started.
“You were behaving like a possessive, lovestruck imbecile out there. I was humiliated by my own husband because he felt the need to push another man away from me. Is no other man allowed to touch me? Even under social obligation? Even whenyou insist on keeping your distance from me?” Her voice rose and cracked.
A knot formed in his throat at the bluntness of her words. Faced with her raw fury, he found himself wholly unequipped to respond.
“Edith, please?—”
“Don’t!” she cried, covering her face with her hands and taking a long, shuddering breath.
Laurence watched her for a moment, letting her compose herself, then stepped forward, gently guiding her hands away from her face. Her cheeks were damp. He hated that he had caused her such anguish.
“Edith,” he murmured. “I… I’m not made of stone. I am your husband. As much as you may try to deny it, you belong to me.”
“You’ve lost that right,” she spat.
“What?” he sputtered, dumbfounded.
“You forfeited any claim to me when you walked away,” she added. “After we…”
She looked away from him, and in the pale moonlight, he could see tears rolling down her cheeks.
The night he lost control. He had assumed that he had pushed their arrangement too far, but now…
He felt his heart crack. What a fool he was. He had tried so desperately to protect her from himself, from his darkness, and he had still hurt her.
“Edith, that’s not fair.”
“You can’t have it both ways,” she hiccupped. “You cannot touch me like I matter and then treat me like I don’t.”
“No, Edith.” His hands cupped her cheeks, forcing her to look at him.
His pride was warring with his heart. He ached to tell her everything, but if he did, he would never be able to slip back into the shadows, where he’d always managed things alone.
He took a long, steadying breath. “I’m sorry.”
The words hung in the air.
Edith searched his eyes, as if looking for deceit.
