“I do not care for one day,” she cut him off. “I care for now. Us. Here! Why can you not see that?”
“It is not that simple.”
“Tell me why! Please,” she pleaded. “That is all I ask of you. You want me to go. You want me to pretend that you do not exist, as you pretend that I do not. Tell me why.”
She widened her eyes as she held him in her desperate stare. She forced him to notice her standing there, so that he could not look away or turn and leave. Her hand still gripped him. Her body was inches away. She then stepped up closer, onto the same landing as he, giving him nowhere to go.
Slowly, Alaric lifted his head, his gaze, and looked at her. His brow was furrowed. His chin trembled. But it was his eyes that she met and noticed. The cold grey of them, fear and worry both, no longer hidden but brought to the fore as he looked not through her but right at her.
He saw her. Possibly for the first time. The world around them faded into darkness. Their fight, whatever it had been, suddenly meant nothing. It was just the two of them in that moment, eyes locked, bodies close, breathing as one.
“I…” he began, eyes flicking to her lips, his hand lifting and resting under her chin. “I cannot tell you. I… you would never understand.”
“Try me,” she said, moving her hand to his waist as her heart began to thunder and her legs began to shake.
“No…” He shook his head. “Not now.”
“When?”
He gave her no answer. Not with words, anyhow. He was one with explaining. Done with fighting. Done with pushing heraway, for he must have seen it was all for nought. The fight that the duke had been battling against now for weeks was lost in that moment, and with that loss came a victory that neither could have expected.
He kissed her. His hand moving her chin up, his face craning down, his lips nearing until they pressed against her mouth in an explosion of desire and want and passion that had been building in them since the first time they had met. She gasped but then gave in. She relaxed and allowed the kiss to take hold. She left herself, her mind turned blank, all worried melting away; the kiss they shared was the only thing that mattered.
How long did it last? She could not say. The duke’s hands held her face. His tongue explored her mouth. His lips moved slowly, and his teeth nibbled gently. It was Clara’s first kiss ever, and she knew the wait was well worth it. Just as she knew that everything she had thought about the duke was right.
Just as quickly as it started, it ended.
The duke pulled away as if coming into himself. He staggered back, his expression written with pain. The fight he had just won resumed with a vengeance. And even before he spoke, Clare knew what he was going to say.
The only thing he can say, for it is not such an easy thing to change one’s entire way of being in an instant.
“I… I am...”
“Do not say you are sorry.” She reached for him, but he pulled back his arm.
“I should not have done that.”
“I am glad you did.”
He shook his head. “No, that was… I must go.” Which is exactly what he did.
The duke stepped around her, striding across the foyer and then out the front door without looking back. He ran from her, from his feelings, from what she knew he wanted. Oh, there could be no doubt now how he felt about Clara, but that made things no simpler. So determined was he to keep her at arm’s length that Clara knew the duke would risk happiness and her love, all because he was convinced he was doing the right thing.
It broke her. She gasped, and her chin trembled. Her legs collapsed, and she grabbed hold of the banister to keep herself from falling. Worse off than she had been before she had accosted the duke, just as confused, Clara was so utterly broken that she could not begin to comprehend how she truly felt.
And all the while, the taste of the duke’s lips tingled on her own.
Eighteen
Alaric couldn’t even say exactly where he was going, or what he intended. So confused was he, so besieged with conflict and despair, that he rode as if he might never stop, his first thought to put as much distance between himself and Clara as was possible. As if doing so might erase what had just happened.
But then, when he saw the outline of Wolfe Manor rising on the distant horizon like a mirage, he understood well enough where he had come and the reason why. For all his confusion, for how much he hated himself and what he was about to do, he knew too that it was the only way.
I would ask that Clara one day forgive me for this, but she won’t, nor do I expect her to. More than that, I don’t deserve such a thing.
He rode through the front gate as he forced his mind to focus on what it was that he was here for. He approached the front door,content now with his future actions. As hard as it would be, it was the only way. Mistakes had been made. His weaknesses had been laid bare. This might be the coward’s way out, but it was for the best.For me, and for Clara.
He did not knock on the front door. Rather, he threw it open and strode inside as if he owned the manor through which he walked. A sharp right turn, and he made for the dining room, as the hour was late and he was sure to find the master of the home feasting. And sure enough, he did.
