“Tell him! Your Grace! Tell him that he is supposed to be with me! Command him! You swore it! He was to be withme!” Isabella nearly shouted.
Richard spun, wishing to end this argument once and for all. “I presume that he told you I would be easily seduced and that you are now realizing how much of a lie that is. My heart lies with my wife, and it willonlybe with her. Ever.”
His mind drifted to Catherine, aching for how hurt she must be. He needed to get to her as quickly as possible so that he would have even the slightest chance of making things right with her. She had endured more than enough at the hands of his father. Who was still being oddly quiet.
“Do not enter my presence again, Lady Harrington. You have been warned,” Richard spoke down his nose to her, sneering. Her constant manipulations were wholly and utterly exhausting, and he needed to find Catherine. He turned to his father. “If you have any love for me at all, Father, you will make this right—or I swear that all of our games…all of your little manipulations—are over.”
He would disinherit himself before he would lose Catherine. He knew that now. He could feel it in his bones. All of the reasons that he had for tolerating his father’s nonsense. All of the hope that he had ever harbored for redeeming his father’s soul would cease to mean anything to him if the only way that he could have such things was in the wake of losing Catherine.
His priorities had shifted so drastically that he almost did not recognize himself as he jogged across the lawns and around the house to sneak into the house.
With every step, his worry grew. He had to hope that she was in their rooms. Even more, he needed to hope and pray that she would be willing to meet with him. He needed to explain if he could.
The door was locked when he arrived.
Richard’s heart dropped. He knocked softly, but to no answer.
“Catherine?” he whispered to the door, only to be met with silence. He could not even blame her for her reactions, as he likely would have had the very same ones. Richard’s forehead fell to the door with a soft thunk. “Catherine, please, open the door so that I might explain…please.”
He did not feel even the smallest bit of shame for groveling. He was happy to do it. He closed his eyes, worry and despair mixing in equal measure inside of him. “Nothing happened. I know that you will not believe me, but it is the truth. Nothing at all has happened between us. Not now, not ever.”
His hands slid down the door. He could hear nothing. Not even the slightest sound, but he knew that she was in there. “You are the only one that my heart desires…”
Words wanted to tumble from his lips—but he could not allow the first time that he spoke such words to her to be through a closed door in an effort to make up after a misunderstanding. He could not do it. Richard was going to have no choice but to give her the time that she so obviously wanted.He would keep trying,he told himself,no matter how long it took.
Going back downstairs and facing the garden party felt impossible. He did not wish to face them. It did not matter to him that they were the guests of honor or that they would be expected—he needed to fix things with Catherine first and foremost.
Lingering outside of their bedroom door would not solve the issue either.
That was what he told himself as he paced up and down the hall, contemplating what his next move should be. Perhaps the best thing for all involved would be to leave…but that would undo the work that had been done in repairing reputations in the first place. He did not wish to be the downfall of it. He knew that much.
Torn and without many options, he did not notice the duke standing at the end of the hall until he had paced by him at least three times.
He stopped on the fourth. All of the venom and hurt that he felt in his chest seemed to wear plainly on his face.
“Now is not the moment that you wish to speak to me. I assure you of that, Father,” Richard warned in a voice bordering on breaking.
Why had the older man bothered to follow him up here in the first place? No sign of his flask in his hands, and the glazed look of inebriation seemed to have faded somewhat from his features. Experience had taught him a long time ago never to have hope when it came to the man in front of him.
“Why did you do it?” Richard asked, unable to help himself. “Do you simply wish for me to be unhappy? Do you take joy in the misery of others? Is that what truly makes you happy, Father? You lost the love of your life, so you wish to ensure that nobody around you can feel even the slightest bit of happiness if you have anything to say about it? Is that it?”
He was gaining speed and wholly unable to come down. He could not seem to stop himself.
The duke’s eyes widened fractionally, but he did not say anything.
“Of course. I should have known as much. I cannot fathom why it is that you have always hated me so much, Father, or those around you—you have only cared for yourself. You likely only thought so far as acquiring the dowager duchess’ land for yourself, and that was the end of it. No regard for me as a person, my happiness—nothing of what this might do to Catherine. Do I even want to know what hate you spewed in her ear?”
The silence that met him only enraged him further.
“I have tried for years to make you see the error of your ways. I tried to clean up the messes that you made in spite of yourself because you are my father, and Mother certainly loved you enough for us both. Lord knows that I do not have the faintest inkling as to how she did it. But, for her sake, I tried…I was still trying…and now I am done.” Richard rolled his shoulders back and stood tall.
“I…” the duke started, and then stopped.
“She is with child,” Richard said abruptly, hoping that perhaps that would at least spear through the duke’s shield of selfishness. “My wife…is having my child, your grandchild, and you might have caused me to lose them both forever. I shall never…neverforgive you for this.”
With that, he turned and walked away.
Chapter 28
