“The accusations weren’t baseless. I heard people talking about you,” she protested.
“You could have asked me about it rather than flinging it in my face.”
Her indignation abruptly fizzled. He did have a point.
“That was unfair of me, wasn’t it?” Releasing a breath, she said, “I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry.” He spoke without inflection.
“Well, yes. I shouldn’t have assumed the gossip was true. It’s just that it... hurt,” she said miserably, “to hear people talk about you. To think that what we shared wasn’t special.”
He stared at her. “How could you think that?”
The truth struck her fully for the first time.
“I suppose I’ve never been special to anyone before. As a sister and friend, yes—but not as a woman. A lover.” She gave him a rueful look. “And here you are: a duke who apparently every lady covets. Why should you want me when you could have anybody?”
He curled a finger beneath her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Because there’s no else like you, Emma.”
“What you said earlier... about having been manipulated in the past.” She hesitated. “Were you referring to your wife?”
He straightened, took a step back from her. His expression iced over.
“After we wed, Laura constantly accused me of infidelity, was jealous of every female who crossed my path from the maid to the neighbor’s daughter,” he said tonelessly. “There was nothing I could do to convince her that I was faithful.”
Heart thumping, Emma waited.
“Finally, I got tired of defending myself. She would rant at me, throw fits of hysterics, yet I stopped caring what she believed. Or what she did. She accused me of not giving her attention, not loving her as she deserved—and I suppose she was right. Any affection I felt for her died the moment she took her first lover.”
“She betrayed you?” Emma whispered.
Tight-lipped, he gave a nod. “She needed attention more than she needed her next breath, and if I didn’t provide her with it, she found it from others. In her deluded mind, she thought that if I saw how desirable she was to other men, I would want her more.”
“That’smadness.”
“That’s not all of it. She slandered me to all and sundry, played the role of the injured party—which, in her sick mind, I suppose she was.”
“Why—why didn’t you divorce her?”
“I’d made her a vow.” His broad shoulders rose and fell. “And there was my son to think of. I didn’t want Charlie to think poorly of his own mama.”
It was the first he’d spoken of his son.
Quietly, Emma said, “What happened... to Charlie?”
Alaric’s eyes were empty and cold as he looked out into the darkness beyond the pane. Into the endless stretch of night.
“Laura and I had fought, and she’d threatened to leave me. I didn’t take her seriously,” he said. “She’d given ultimatums countless times and never once acted on her words. Then one day I came home and found her gone. I could have lived with that—if she hadn’t taken Charlie.”
“Where?” Emma whispered.
“She’d secured them passage on a ship bound for France. I believe she wanted me to chase after her, to show my undying devotion. Instead, the ship went down in a storm that night.” His voice was flat, devoid of emotion. “There were no survivors.”
She had no words for such a loss. Emma rose and wrapped her arms around his lean waist, giving him what comfort she could. Slowly, his arms came around her. Although he said nothing, his embrace was suffocating. His heart thundered beneath her ear, a shudder passing through his large frame. She held on even tighter.
“Don’t ever question my desire for you,” he said in guttural tones. “Or compare it to what I’ve known in the past. I have never wanted anyone the way I want you, Emma.”
Her heart skipped a beat. It was the closest he’d come to saying that he cared for her.
