She put her hands on the broad muscle of his chest, taking a half step back, out of his arms.
He wants to help, but he is not willing to sacrifice that much for a woman who is not what he wants.
She read what went unsaid in those beautiful eyes, deep in the fathoms of that remorseful blue. And if she gave in and kissed him now, she would be ruined for anyone else.
“But you cannot,” she said quietly, lamenting the absence of his touch as his arms fell to his sides, letting go of her. “Do not worry, Duncan. I understand. As I hope you can understand why I must leave now.”
He bowed his head. “Not the party, surely?”
“No, not the party.” She forced a smile, refusing to crumble at his unspoken rejection. “After all, I still have a hunt to complete and a prize to win.”
He raised his gaze, that painful remorse like starlight in his eyes. “I will help you in your chase.”
“I should hope so,” she replied, aiming for humor, but falling flat. “Goodnight, Duncan.”
“Goodnight, Valery.”
Hearing that name from his lips burned a hole in her chest, tapping another crack through her sore, weary heart. And as she turned to leave, not rushing her exit this time, she knew that the next three days were going to be the hardest of her life.
Still, at least she had the tools to quieten her mind next time, when they dared to suggest that Duncan was the only man she could see herself marrying. If such a thought struck her again, she had only to think,I want to help you, but…and those thoughts would surely wither like cut roses, left in the blazing summer heat.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Valeria had misunderstood him. Duncan was certain of that as he watched her walk away down the faded path, overgrown with yellow dandelions, tufts of red clover, and fragile daisies that she was careful to step around.
He wasnotuncertain of what she had been asking, by telling him the truth of what was in her heart. Inadvertently, perhaps, she had been willing him to ask if he could help her in a different way. If he could resolve her marriage problem altogether.
And I want to, Valery…
He did, most fervently, but there was just one problem: his marrying her would be no help at all, not in the long run.
If he married her, he would be trapping her in a life she did not want. That was precisely why he needed to find a bride who would be perfectly content living a country apart,continentsapart even, uninterested in what the other was doing. Anddespite what Valeria had alluded to about freedom, he had also seen the way she gazed at her friends and their husbands.Thatwas the sort of marriage she wanted, and that was not something he could offer.
I would break your heart, Valery. I would make you thoroughly miserable, in the end.
For he did not trust that the growing feelings inside him would last, and he would never be able to forgive himself if he married her, and those feelings snuffed themselves out.
“Wait!” he called out, before he could stop himself.
Valeria froze, her back rigid, her hands balled into fists. She did not turn and, for a moment, he thought she might continue on as if she had not heard him.
“Did you know that I was never supposed to be the Duke of Thornhill?” he said, urging himself to put one foot in front of the other.
She still did not turn. “I… did not.”
“I had a brother,” he told her, not knowing why, as he came to stand behind her. “The kindest, most generous, most respected, well-liked gentleman to ever walk the earth. You would have swooned over him, I am sure.”
He heard her sniff. “I do not swoon.”
“We shall have to agree to disagree,” he replied, smiling. “He was… a king among men, and I adored him. He was a hero to me, and patient where I did not deserve it. He was the only person to acknowledge me—the second son, the spare. And when he died, I…”
Valeria turned slowly, her brow furrowed with sadness.
And when he died, I became incapable of love,was what he wanted to say, but the sentiment would not leave his throat. Indeed, it was not necessarily his brother’s passing that had made him shun the idea of love, but the sight of his brother’s beloved, Louisa, falling to pieces at his graveside. It was the moment he knew he would never fall in love, never put someone through that. She had gone from wife to widow in the span of a month, forced by her family to become a wife again a year later.
On the eve of that second wedding, she had come to Duncan, begging for his help. He had smuggled her out of the country, to a new life, while throwing himself into the life of an infamous rake. Anything to numb the pain and loneliness of being the last Lock standing.
“I do not understand why you are telling me this,” Valeria said, her hands clasped as if she did not trust them.
