Had everything been a falsehood, a fabrication meant to woo her into allowing him to provide the duke with a required heir? Dread skewered her. Yes, of course that was possible. He was the same man who had courted and abandoned her, the man who chased after lightskirts and ignored her with practiced nonchalance. She shouldn’t be surprised by the duke’s disclosure. She should not have fallen for her husband’s handsome looks, charm, and knowing hands.
But she had.
“You appear startled, my lady,” the duke observed. “Pray forgive me my plain speaking, but I’ve never been one to mince words. The plain truth of the matter is that Pembroke needs a male heir, or when he and I pass on to our rewards, the man next in line is an unsuitable country fool who will run the estates to ruin. Our family has possessed these lands for centuries. For them and the title to go to anyone other than the rightful heir would be a sacrilege.”
She swallowed, trying to calm her madly beating heart and assuage the awful sense of betrayal overtaking her. “I do understand the need for an heir, Your Grace. You said Pembroke obeyed you. May I be so daring as to ask you what you meant?”
The duke’s eyes narrowed in what she assumed was suspicion. “Forward lot, you Americans.” He sighed, apparently put out by her lack of manners. “I’ve discovered that Pembroke requires an impetus for everything. I threatened to cut him off unless he returned to you and carried out his family obligations.”
If her heart had been a finely cut crystal goblet, it would have been dashed into hundreds of infinitesimal shards in that instant. She wasn’t so fortunate. Her heart wasn’t an object, and it hurt with an intensity that blindsided her. She wanted to leave the drawing room. Her lungs felt as if they could no longer hold air.
This was far worse than Will’s original abandonment of her. He’d told her he loved her. Lies, all of it. He’d connived and betrayed her all in the name of money. Her stomach gave a surge and she feared she’d embarrass herself before the duke.
“I’m led to believe Pembroke didn’t share his motivations for suddenly returning to play husband,” the duke unkindly observed.
She took a steadying breath. “He did not.”
“Ah.” He paused, considering her. “Surely you realize what sort of man he is, my dear. As I said, his mother’s blood flows through him. He isn’t to be trusted.”
It sickened her that the duke spoke so frankly and with such disdain for his own son. Of course, it would appear that Will deserved it, but she found that notion comfortless. Little wonder he detested his father. The sentiment appeared to be a mutual one.
“I fear I’m unwell, Your Grace.” She stood, her legs shaking beneath the layers of her silk afternoon dress. “Please excuse me?”
He watched her in stony silence, his gaze still sharp as rapiers. “You’d be wise not to allow your womanly sensibilities to impede your common sense. Pembroke will get an heir on you because he must. It doesn’t matter how it’s done, simply that it is.”
If she’d been nearer to him in proximity, she would have slapped him, propriety be damned. She was shaken to her core, disgusted by Pembroke as much as she was his father. She understood his reaction to the duke now better than ever. The man was a toad who disparaged his own flesh and thought of nothing other than his crumbling empire.
She raised her chin, forcing herself to be strong and not allow the duke the last word. “You are wrong in that, Your Grace. There will be no heir, for Pembroke will never touch me again.”
With that, she turned and beat a hasty retreat from the room. The duke called after her, but she ignored him. She’d had all the audiences with the awful man that she intended to have. Indeed, she wished very much that she’d never laid eyes upon him and Pembroke both.
Mere days ago, she’d vowed not to let anyone come between them again. How bitterly ironic that the only person who could come between them was the same man who always had. Pembroke himself.
It wasn’t until after she was safely on the other side of the closed door that she allowed the tears she’d been withholding to fall. She hurried past Mrs. Morton, whose benevolent round visage plainly showed her distress. Pressing a hand to her mouth to stifle her sobs, she rushed to the privacy of her chamber before she humiliated herself any further.
Later that evening, the expected knock came at her door. She had deliberately avoided Will and hadn’t gone down to dinner, pleading a headache. He’d spent the bulk of the afternoon off riding—no doubt an attempt to placate his conscience after his endless deceptions. Of course, that supposed he even possessed a conscience.
“Are you well, my dear?” he asked from his chamber, his tone concerned.
She didn’t answer. Nausea churned in her stomach. A cold sheen of sweat drenched her entire body. She stopped in the act of pacing her chamber, hoping he would simply go away. She didn’t think she could bear to see him just now.
“Victoria?”
Before she could even form a response, the door creaked open, revealing her husband. Of course he would have a key at the ready after last time. She hadn’t thought of that. He wore a dressing gown, belted at the waist, and a worried expression marred the masculine beauty of his face.
It was God’s idea of a cruel jest, she thought again, giving a man with a black heart the looks of an angel.
“Whatever is the matter? It’s not like you to miss dinner.” He started across the chamber, but she held up a staying hand.
“Don’t come any nearer to me.”
He stopped, a look of surprise replacing the distress. “What’s wrong, my love?”
“I’m not your love.” She took a deep, bracing breath, attempting to muster up the strength she would need to go to battle with him. The duke’s revelation had left her shaken and weak.
“What are you on about?” He started forward again.
She retreated, eyeing him warily. “The duke told me the real reason you’re here at Carrington House. I wonder that you sent me to meet him without fearing that he would. Perhaps you believed he would uphold your deceits for you, but it seems yours is a mutual enmity. He told me he threatened to cut you off if you didn’t get me with child. That you’re here with me out of obedience to him. I know that everything has been a lie.”
