ChapterTwenty-Seven
Marlow
I turned the square leather ring box over in my hand.
All that anger. The resentment I’d harbored for months after a failed engagement. But I’d had no idea what it felt like to be truly rejected untilthismoment.
My chest was empty. Clawed out. I was gutted. The pain so raw and all-encompassing I’d nearly gone numb from it.
I couldn’t move from her bed.
Gabriel flew past the open door, then quickly backtracked. “In here,” he said over his shoulder. Our eyes locked, and his flashed with worry. “Margaret,” he called out from the doorway, frowning. “Come, quickly.”
“What is it?” she asked, hurrying past him inside the room.Georgiana’sroom. Now empty. “Lucas,” she crooned. “What is wrong?”
“She’s gone,” I choked out. Lud, what was wrong with me? My throat was painfully clogged. An awful burning rose into my throat, pricking the corners of my eyes.
“What has happened?” Maggie sat beside me on the bed.
Mother entered, red-faced and grim. I couldn’t stand, I was shaking so suddenly, so forcefully. I was left with nothingbut rubble. That was all I had, all I’d ever have if I could not create a path that led Georgiana straight backhere.
What was all of this withouther?
“I cannot do this.” I swallowed hard, determined to speak.
“The duchy?” Maggie took my hand. Her eyes locked on mine, serious and worried.
I tried to breathe. “It is too much,” I whispered.
“That’s my fault,” Gabriel grumbled from the doorway, shifting his weight from side to side. “I ask for too much. I’ve made your life difficult.”
I tugged out of Maggie’s hold and dried my wet cheeks with my sleeves. “No. It’s not you. It’s me. I—I am inadequate. I have ruined everything.”
Mother sat on my other side. “Lucas, my son, that is the farthest thing from the truth. Why would you say such a thing?”
Because itwastrue. “Why else would Georgiana leave?”
My family deserved the truth, the whole of it, so I started from the beginning. “Before Father died, he told me to do whatever it took—whateverit took—to restore the dukedom. For our family line and all who depended on us.”
Mother nodded, patient. Gabriel leaned against the door, watching his feet.
“But he wasn’t here.” My voice broke. “He wasn’t here to tell mehowto see it through, and it’s been so difficult. I have sacrificed my integrity in the pursuit of keeping my promise, and still I have failed him.”
“You have had to make some difficult decisions. We all see that.” Mother squeezed my arm. “But you have not failed him.”
I shook my head. She had no idea. “I’ve been selfish. I’ve made deals advantageous to myself and harmful to others. I’ve used information against ... I’ve blackmailed—”
“Darling,” Mother said solemnly. “Is any of this irreparable?”
I shrugged. I supposed with time I could heal fractured relationships. Balance my greed with generosity in other ways. “No.”
Despite her calm demeanor, her shoulders visibly relaxed. “Then it seems you have learned a lesson in how you wish to do business, and namely in how you donot. That is good.”
Not good enough. “I hate myself for forcing—”
“You hate yourchoices. You must never hate yourself. Am I quite clear? You, Lucas, are not a bad man. You are my son. You are your father’s son. The Duke of Marlow. And from your very core, you are good. The difference between who you want to be and who you are is merely a measure of daily progress.”
My head hung. She took my face in her hands and swiped my tears with her thumbs.
