He curled his hands.You cannot have her. You are not good enough for Livy, and you cannot hurt her…the way you’ve hurt so many others.
He opened the cages of his past, forcing himself to confront another pair of eyes, these ones staring up at him in the darkness.Hold on,he heard himself shout. His soul rumbled with the force of the oncoming train as she smiled and let go, choosing death over his attempt to right a wrong…
Arabella surfaced from the swamp of memory, rising in a blood-soaked chemise. She walked toward him, her raven hair tangled and wild, her eyes unblinking.“You wanted this pregnancy. Now it has killed me and our babe, and it is all your fault…”
A man’s voice cut in.“I beg of you, Hadleigh, have mercy. Don’t destroy me, I didn’t mean to hurt your sister…”
With will borne of practice, Ben shut his demons back into their cages. They had served their purpose. He was in control once more and aware of what needed to be done.
I’m destined to hell, but I will not take Livy with me.
“I will never make love to you, Olivia. There is no future for us,” he said with cold ruthlessness. “You cannot give me what I need. I want a real woman, not some silly little girl.”
She blinked, the sheen in her eyes slamming into him like a fist. Yet Livy, being Livy, didn’t give up.
“I know I shouldn’t have tried to make you jealous…with Sheffield, I mean,” she said, her voice hitching. “Thatwaschildish, and I’m sorry. But if you’ll only give me a chance—”
“How many times must I reject you in order for you to understand?” he said harshly. “I’m telling you once and for all: give up your juvenile fantasies and stay the bloody hell away from me.”
He saw the moment he broke her. The pain in her eyes reminded him of how he’d felt, beaten and bloodied, in the alleyway. Yet that suffering had been a necessary step in his healing, and it would be for her too.
Hell, he was her goddamned opium, even if she didn’t know it. But he did. Unlike that unfeeling drug, however, he refused to destroy her. His little queen…who meant too much to him.
“You want me to stay away?” Livy choked out. “Fine, I’ll go. And you’ll never have to see me again.”
She ran from him.
Hands fisted by his side, he let her go.
11
1844, Strathaven Estate, Scotland
Livy is 15; Ben is 27
Livy wandered down the holly-festooned halls of Strathmore Castle. It was Christmas Eve, and the sounds of merriment spilled from the drawing room. Her parents were hosting a week-long holiday party with over three dozen guests in attendance. After supper, the furnishings had been pushed aside for an impromptu dance party, with Aunt Thea playing the pianoforte and Aunt Rosie singing along. Everyone was having a wonderful time, and no one observed Livy leaving. She had noticed that someone was missing.
Hadleigh. She hadn’t seen him since supper.
Livy wove in and out of the public rooms, looking for him. Perhaps he had gone up to bed, but it was early yet, and she was concerned about him. She hadn’t seen him for a few months, and when he and his duchess had arrived yesterday, he’d looked wearier than she’d remembered. His eyes seemed permanently bloodshot, and he’d dropped a stone, his tall frame approaching gauntness.
Is he ill?she fretted.
She’d tried to ask him about it, but he’d ruffled her hair and told her not to worry. But shewasworried. Something was wrong with Hadleigh. She’d tried to ask her parents, but they were also keeping mum about it.
“Perhaps we should send for the physician?”she’d persisted.
Papa had sighed.“Hadleigh isn’t ill. You are too young to understand, poppet, but suffice it to say, the nature of his problem requires that he address it himself. No doctor—and no one—can fix it for him. Trust me, it is best to leave him be.”
Livy did not believe in letting things be. Especially when her friend’s well-being was at stake. Thus, she continued searching for Hadleigh, and her tenacity was rewarded when she found him in the upstairs gallery. He was on the floor, slumped against a wall, his long legs splayed in front of him. His eyes were closed. He’d lost his jacket and cravat somewhere, his shirt open at the throat and his waistcoat splotched with wine stains.
Hadleigh was always impeccably dressed. At the moment, however, he was a frightful mess. Anxiety percolated through her: she’d never seen him this way before.
“Hadleigh?” she said loudly to wake him. “What is the matter with you?”
His long lashes flicked open. He stared at her with eyes that were red-rimmed and more black than blue. This was a stranger’s gaze, and it chilled her nape.
“Livy?” His gaze focused, his voice emerging thick and slurred. “What’re you doing here?”
