She tried again, feeling his hard muscles against her knuckles.
“Harder,” he said again. “Don’t be gentle with me.”
“Tristan…”
“I need this.” He was shaking. “I want you to be ferocious to me.”
She released a shaky breath and tried again with more energy.
He scoffed. “Harder.”
A flare of anger overcame her. “No!” She took a step back. “When I said I wanted to help you, I didn’t mean by hitting you. You can’t ask me that. I willnothurt you. And it’s vile of you to ask me that. You must find the strength to fight this absurd craving of yours in another way, but I won’t punch you.”
His facial muscles tightened to the point his face transformed. The thunder roared, and a bolt of lightning limned his silhouette from behind.
“You promised,” she said. “I trusted you.”
Tristan strode past her and walked out of the room, leaving her alone with the storm and her failure.
Voices came from the hallway. A door was shut. Then Harris entered the dining room, his face as grim as the weather.
“I gather His Lordship decided to go, my lady.”
A sob rasped her throat. “I couldn’t stop him. I’m so sorry. How arrogant of me to think I could help him.”
“Oh, dear lady.” The butler crossed the room to stand close to her. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
She cried in earnest. “But I didn’t help him at all.”
He touched her shoulder tentatively. “I beg to differ. He has made great progress since he spent time with you. I’ve been with the Montcrest family for almost fifty years.”
She wiped her eyes. “Fifty?”
“I was thirteen when I started serving as a hall boy in this very house. His Lordship’s grandfather was the marquess back then. I watched His Lordship grow up and went through the family’s ordeal.”
“Why didn’t you leave?”
He poured her a glass of water. “The late marquess was a good man. He helped me when…” He straightened the plates and the forks. “I had a gambling problem.”
Now she understood why Harris was so patient with Tristan. Gambling was an addiction, too.
He cleared his throat. “Another lord would have given me the sack and left me to my miserable fate. Not the marquess. He paid my debts and helped me get rid of that vicious habit. I owe him my life and dignity. I could never leave his son alone. Don’t be discouraged, my lady. It’ll take time, but with your help, His Lordship will get better.”
She put her hand over his. “Thank you, Harris. You give me hope.”
Rain slippedunderneath Tristan’s collar and down his neck. His suit was soaked through, and he was chilled to the marrow.Dawn was approaching with its cold light, and shivers caused his teeth to chatter.
He’d sent his coachman home hours ago and had wandered through London’s streets since then, half hoping to be attacked by a footpad.
No such luck.
Still, the cold rain and the night’s chill had a calming effect on his temper.
After he’d stormed out of his dining room and left Effie alone, he’d meant to go to The Octagon and lose himself. But Effie’s words had haunted him and echoed in his mind without mercy, worse than his twitch.
It’s vile of you.Absurd craving.You promised.I trusted you.
He’d been called worse things than vile, but the insult said by Effie had a deep, intimate effect on him. Try as he might, he hadn’t been able to enter The Octagon. He’d wanted to go to the ring more than ever, yet his body had refused to move as if it’d reached a limit of pain and nonsense beyond which it wouldn’t be pushed.
