She was not entirely sure it existed.
But staying had become impossible, and going was the only act of courage she had left.
CHAPTER 34
“You look like hell.” Edward dropped into the leather chair opposite Hugo’s and signaled the steward for a glass.
White’s was quiet at this hour. The late afternoon light filtered through the tall windows, and the handful of other members present had the good sense to keep their distance from a Duke who was drinking alone at three o’clock on a Tuesday.
Hugo raised his glass. “I am perfectly well.”
“You are on your third brandy before dinner, your cravat is crooked, and you have not shaved.” Edward accepted his drink from the steward and waited until the man withdrew. “When was the last time you slept?”
“I slept last night.”
“For how long?”
“Long enough.”
“Hugo.”
“Two hours. Possibly three.” He drained his glass and set it down with a thud that drew a glance from a gentleman reading by the fireplace. “What do you want, Edward?”
“Lily is leaving.”
“I know she is leaving. I arranged it. I booked the lodgings and wrote the letters of introduction myself. I am acutely aware that she is leaving.”
“She is leavingyou.”
The correction landed in Hugo’s chest like a stone dropped from height. He reached for the decanter and poured another measure. The brandy sloshed against the sides of the glass, and his hand was not as steady as he needed it to be.
“She is traveling. It is what she always wanted.”
“She is running. Because you gave her no reason to stay.”
“I gave her every reason to stay. I gave her a title, a home, financial security, and freedom to travel whenever she wished. I gave her everything I promised.”
“You gave her everything except yourself.” Edward crossed one ankle over the other. “Are you really going to sit in this chair and drink yourself into a stupor while your wife boards a ship to France?”
Hugo’s jaw tightened. “She is a Duchess. She is free to do whatever she pleases.”
“She isyourDuchess, Hugo. Yours. And she is leaving because you have spent the past month treating her as though she were a tenant in your house rather than the woman you married.”
“I did not ask for your opinion.”
“You never do. I give it anyway. It is the foundation of our friendship.” Edward leaned forward. “Do not let her go.”
“She made her decision. I respect it.”
“Respect is not the issue, and you know it. Avoidance is.”
Hugo’s hand stilled on the glass.
“You have spent your entire life controlling what people see of you,” Edward continued. His voice was quiet, unhurried. “Every smile, every joke, every charm offensive you deploy in a ballroom is a calculated performance designed to keep people at exactly the distance you choose. And it works. It has always worked. Until Lily.”
“Edward.”
“Until Lily, who looked straight through every wall you had ever built, and she saw you. And she was not afraid. And instead of letting her stay, you are pushing her out the door because you would rather lose her than risk her seeing the one thing you have spent your life hiding.”
