Alaric scoffed, but it was a pitiful thing. “Who says that I am lying?”
“You did, Alaric,” he responded simply. “Not with your words, for they are the right ones if you wish to keep the lie in play. But do not insult my intelligence by thinking you might fool me. I am far too perceptive and intelligent for that.”
“I…” Alaric felt his resolve faltering. “I do not know what you mean.”
“What happened?” His tone turned sharp, dismissive of any attempts Alaric might make to press the lie. And as he spoke, he looked right at Alaric with a hardened stare that seemed to see through him, into his soul, dissecting Alaric like a surgeon with a scalpel.
Alaric thought to double down on the lie.
He thought of telling Sebastian, the Duke of Eastmoor, that he was wrong, that he did not know him nearly as well as he claimed, and that he needed to leave at once, as he was starting to frustrate! But his stomach continued to twist itself into knots, the guilt he had been feeling all day shamed him like nothing else, and just like that, Alaric’s stern defense and the walls he had spent a lifetime erecting crumbled to the ground.
“It does not matter what happened,” he sighed and bowed his head. “It is done now, and there is no taking it back.”
“You asked her to leave?”
“Worse…” So embarrassed was Alaric that he could not bring himself to look at his friend. “I had my uncle do it for me. Do you believe that?” He laughed bitterly. “The coward that I am, I could not even ask her to leave me.”
“Your uncle?” Sebastian frowned. “And he agreed to do it…” He trailed off as if realizing something suddenly. “Ah, of course he did. Let me guess, he was happy to do it. Damn eager, if I know the man.”
“I had no choice,” Alaric pleaded, more for his own sense of worth than anything else. “What was happening between Clara and me was dangerous. No chance at a happy ending, for that is not how these things go. I…” For a second, a smile flickered across his lips before he smothered it. “I forgot that about myself. I wanted to forget – to pretend otherwise.”
“And your uncle reminded you, I take it.”
Alaric nodded. “He reminded me of my past and the danger I was putting Clara in. Not to mention our family name. And he was right to…” He said the words, but he didn’t believe them as he wished to. “I was a fool to forget, and Clara deserves better.”
“Better than what?”
“You know what,” Alaric snapped suddenly. “She came to me for protection, an irony she did not understand, but I knew only too well. It was wrong of me to bring her into this home. I…” He winced as he felt a stabbing pain through his chest. “I did her a favor in sending her away.”
“And does Clara agree with this assessment? Somehow, I doubt it very much.”
“She will,” Alaric said. “In time, my hope is that she will understand what I did and why I did it. This was for her, Sebastian…” He looked to his friend, caring not how weak he was acting, how vulnerable he had become.Let him see it. It will be the last time I ever let myself feel this way.
“Alaric…” Sebastian’s tone turned toward pity. “Your uncle is wrong about you. You do not need to listen to him –”
“I do,” Alaric cut him off. “He is right to be worried. Ever since…” He grimaced, unable to say it. “Ever sincethatincident, he has done nothing but try to save this family. I owe him everything.”
“Do you really believe that?”
“I do.”
Again, Sebastian sighed with pity. He walked to the table and put down his drink, still untouched. Then he looked down at Alaric, his brow furrowed, sadness taking him in a way uncharacteristic of the cynical duke. “What happened to Helena was not your fault.”
Alaric flinched. “Please, do not…”
“I know you enjoy blaming yourself, Alaric. I know you take some sort of sick pleasure from playing the villain. But anyone who knows what happened knows that you were not at fault for her death. You might claim it. You might live with it. But the simple fact is that your father –”
“Don’t!” Alaric’s head snapped up, and he snarled. “I do not know why you are here. I do not know what you want. But do not think to… to try and placate me. I don’t deserve it. Helena died because of me, and where I cannot take that back, I can make sure that it never happens again!” He was on his feet, although he didn’t remember standing. “Which I have done. Clara may hate me. She may loathe the thought of me. But she will live, and if the consequence of that is… isthis.” He gestured about the office as if to indicate his sorrow. “So be it.”
“Is that how you really feel?”
“It is,” he sneered.
Sebastian sighed and shook his head. “Another lie, but I will not press the issue. In fact, I am starting to wonder why I bothered coming to see you.”
“That makes the two of us.”
“I wish I could say it has been a pleasure, Alaric, but unlike you, I am not so good at spewing lies as if they were truths.” He turned and walked to the door, stepping through it before turning back. The final look he offered was again dripping in pity, which in turn had Alaric’s anger fading because, dammit, he hated being felt sorry for. “You do not need to hate yourself as you do, Alaric. Nor do you deserve the pain you put yourself through. I just pray that one day you come to realize this before it is too late.”
