Chapter Twenty-Four
Lord Rex, Duke of Smythington
“I truly think you should consider courting Olivia. The two of you are well suited.” I couldn’t imagine living without Eleanor and knew Flynn was lonely. Chasing the past wasn’t conducive to a bright future.
The contentment fell from Flynn’s face, and he reached for the teapot, pouring himself another cup. “Are we well suited or simply dependent on each other from habit?”
Was he speaking about Eleanor and me or was I reading too much into it? Eleanor was the foundation of our family, and I was thrilled she had chosen to pursue her music. I simply prayed she’d never find out about my role in gaining her place at the conservatory.
I had never felt the need to put the spark back into my marriage. I’d simply accepted that it was normal for passion to wane due to family and responsibilities. Seeing several red spots on her neck caused by my exuberant kisses, I realized that my desire for her was never deeper than it was last night. I couldn’t seem to help myself from getting lost in her arms and savoring the feel of her pussy grabbing my cock with uninhibited desire. “I am not the same man I was then.”
“I beg to differ. Don’t forget our night at Oxford,” Flynn replied with a teasing smile. “It is the catalyst for our currentaffair. I will grant that youaremore mature and now understand the errors of your ways.”
The maid had arranged Eleanor’s hair in a fashion that I hadn’t seen her wear before. A riot of curls cascaded over one shoulder, enhancing the creamy expanse of her décolletage. Her lavender gown accented the blue of her eyes, and she’d never looked lovelier or more tempting. “I am ashamed to say that at seventeen, if I had learned about your brief affair at Oxford, I would have refused both of your proposals,” she said.
All thoughts of passion left my mind, and I glanced between Flynn and Eleanor. Pulse thumping in my temples, I sat motionless, unable to fathom what she had casually disclosed.Hehad proposed to her. Anger rushed to the fore, along with a deep-seated hurt. I glared at Flynn. “You proposed to her. Why didn’t you tell me?”
He held up his hands and gave Eleanor an apologetic glance. “She asked me not to tell you.”
I whipped my head around, staring at Eleanor with incredulity. She had told me she’d chosen me because she loved me. Was my entire marriage a lie? “Why would you keep that from me?”
“I think this is a perfect time for me to leave you two to discuss this.” Flynn stood with his hands raised in supplication and sauntered out of the room.
I also had questions for him and was tempted to call him back, but this was between my wife and me. “Why did you feel the need to keep that from me?” I ground out through clenched teeth.
“I was afraid it would only upset you. My father disliked Flynn after a servant informed him that I had been seen kissing Flynn in the fountain.” She licked her lips and closed her eyes for a brief second. “My father accepted your offer over Flynn’s.”
A stab of hurt cut through me. Everything we had shared felt like a lie. “Thus, I was always your second choice.”
“I was young, naïve, and flattered to have two very high-profile gentlemen courting me.” Eleanor glanced up, her eyes widening. “It was a long time ago, and I never regretted the decision.”
“Except it wasn’t your decision. It was your father’s.” I tried to calm my racing heart, betrayal cutting deep into my core. Her father had influenced Eleanor until his death. His heavy-handed manner a constant challenge to maneuver through.
“Ultimately, he took the decision out of my hands, and it was the right choice for me.”
“Is that the real reason you agreed to this affair with Flynn?” The euphoria of our affair had begun to unravel. Jealousy tore through me as I saw the entire night through different eyes. Every touch, every caress between the two of them had hidden meaning.
“I will not dignify that with an answer.” She glared at me, clutching at the neckline of her gown. “You are the one who suggested this arrangement, not me.”
“Actually, it was Flynn who first suggested it.” During our time on the river, he had brought up the subject of a ménage. I trusted him, and I had a sinking feeling that I had been a fool for doing so.
Flynn strode through the doorway, his brow thunderous. He had donned his greatcoat and hat, clearly ready to leave an unpleasant situation. He glared at me, fury in the depths of his eyes. “Isuggesteda ménage. I didn’t ask to be the third person. That was all you. This isn’t about me. This is about you two never truly talking to each other, so don’t point the finger of blame at me.”
“Nobody is blaming you, are they Rex?” Eleanor asked, her color high.
“I am merely stating that neither of you told me the truth.” I had every right to be angry at them and being chastised like a child enflamed my temper.
