She searched his gaze, fearing another episode loomed since they had returned to a lone word. “Yes, duty. You seem quite familiar with the notion.”
A faint smile flitted with the corners of his lips, another indication he was returning to himself. “A woman once told me that if I said the wordduty, she would stomp on my foot.”
And so she had. She was surprised he remembered that day, that conversation in his carriage. It seemed as if it had transpired a lifetime ago now.
“Mayhap she was frustrated with your overbearing nature,” she suggested sweetly, hoping to tease him and further ease his mood.
“I dare say she was.” His eyes seemed to bore into hers as his faculties returned to him and he was once more the bold, strongly opinionated man she had come to know as her husband. “I am imperfect, by nature.”
“As am I,” she agreed readily. “I am sorry for telling Shelbourne what I did, sorry for forcing you to forego your future plans and marry me instead of your paragon Lady Beatrice. My actions were inexcusably selfish. I see that now. You had settled upon your course, and then I upended everything.”
She had been thinking of herself when she had told her brother about what had happened between herself and Gabe. She had known the revelation would hurt the both of them. And yet, she had done so anyhow. To save herself. Because she had cared more about what she would endure as Lord Hamish White’s bride than she had cared about what Gabe wanted.
More and more, she understood what she needed to do on the morrow. How she could make amends for her actions. She could not risk further scandal and upset for Gabe if she ignored Lord Algernon’s warnings. She had gotten them into this infernal mess with her own reckless actions, and she alone could extricate them from it.
“I had settled upon my course, and I do not deny it,” her husband said at her side, taking her by surprise with his smooth baritone. “However, I am pleased by our marriage. Just as you beg my forgiveness for your actions, I must apologize for my own behavior. I know I have not been the husband you expected; mayhap not even the husband you deserve. Helena, I…I want to tell you about my sister. About my parents.”
It was her turn to squeeze his fingers. “Only if you wish it, Gabe. I will not force it out of you. I want to know, but the choice must be yours and yours alone. You do not owe me your secrets.”
He nodded jerkily. “I am your husband, Helena. It is only right and fair that I tell you my story. My mother and father…they were a love match, both terribly young when they wed. It did not take long for their love to fester and turn into hatred. Father was a jealous man, and possessed of a mercurial nature. Mother was a bit wild. He sought to cage her, she rebelled. They each began taking lovers. My childhood was a tawdry map of furious fighting and volcanic loathing.”
Her heart ached for him. “I am so sorry, Gabe.”
“It is hardly an original tale of woe. Many children are born to parents who do not deserve them. I had it better than most, for I had my grandfather.” He paused, running his hand along his jaw, his countenance taking on a faraway look as memories no doubt returned to him. “My sister Lisbeth and I spent most of our time with Grandfather and our governesses as children, whilst our parents went about their separate lives. We were close, though she was older than I. However, as we progressed in age, we spent more time apart.”
Helena brought their entwined hands to her lips, pressing a kiss to the top of his. She knew what delving into the darkness of his past must be costing him. But she was also appreciative of the rare glimpse he was providing her to the man within. To the boy he had once been.
“My mother died when the cutter she was sailing in with one of her lovers sank,” he continued. “Not long after, I went off to Eton. Lisbeth remained with Grandfather. But it pleased my father to force her to play the part of his hostess at various country house parties he hosted for all his cronies. At one of those parties, Lisbeth was raped.”
Helena could not stifle her gasp of shock. Little wonder he grew so ill whenever thinking of his sister. She could not bear to think what Lisbeth must have endured. “You do not need to continue, Gabe.”
“That is not where her story ends.” His complexion was ashen once more, his jaw tense, tone grim. “As a result of her attack, she became with child. Not only had our father failed to protect her, he did not give a damn about what had happened to her other than the selfish fear it would bring him shame. When Lisbeth told me everything, I was sick. He intended to send her away, that she could birth the babe and he or she would be given to another family. In spite of what had befallen her, she did not want to lose her child. I went to our father on her behalf. He accused her of being just like our mother, calling Lisbeth a whore.”
His voice shook with anger on the last note, his entire body stiff with fury.
She stroked his back, feeling terribly ineffectual. “I am so sorry. I cannot imagine what your sister must have suffered, and then to have her own father turn against her…”
“It was more than Lisbeth could endure.” He bowed his head, struggling for words. “I promised her I would do everything in my power to keep her safe, but our father was her guardian. There was a clear limit to what I could do to aid her. I had planned to help her run away. I had secured a cottage for her in Shropshire, but our father discovered our plans and went into a rage. Lisbeth was terrified, and she…she hanged herself. I was the one to find her.”
“Oh dear God, Gabe.” She threw her arms around him again, holding him to her. “How awful that must have been for you.”
He held her tightly, another shudder wracking his big body, and buried his face in her hair. “I will never forget that day, how helpless I felt, knowing I had failed her.”
“You did not fail her.” She drew back and cupped his beloved face. “You did everything you could for your sister. You could not have known she would take such drastic measures to escape your father’s plan for her.”
She could see, quite clearly now, that Gabe blamed himself for what had befallen Lisbeth. She could also see why duty was so important to him, why he hated his father, why he believed love was the enemy. Everything came together. She understood this man for the first time, completely. Her heart broke for him.
“I did not do enough, or she would still be here.” His voice broke. “If I had been there for her when she needed me, she never would have been attacked. I begged her to tell me who was responsible, but she refused. Now, I will never know, and she will never have justice.”
How truly helpless he must have felt at the entire situation. She knew him to be a loyal, strong, caring man. A man who bore the scars of the past upon his heart.
“I am sorry.” She could not say it enough.
Not that words could do anything to ameliorate the pain within him or the sorrow at his loss. But that, and her love for him, was all she had to offer.
However, it was not her love that he wanted.
“I do not want your pity,” he said hoarsely.
