She recognized the person in the portrait quite quickly as she had seen him a few hours prior in the family portrait that had been in the library.
Without thinking, she asked softly, “Why haven’t you put up your own portrait instead?”
“Huh?” Richard made a sound of confusion at first then he followed her gaze, his expression turning blank for a moment.
Nancy feared she might have upset him and opened her mouth to utter an apology.
“Do you not miss your father?” he asked in return, catching her completely off-guard as he cut her off.
It startled her how quickly and readily she responded, practically exhaling, “Terribly.”
For the first time since she had known her husband, his expression seemed sad, his gaze wavering slightly. He seemed… apologetic that he had brought up the matter at all.
But to Nancy… he had opened a door she had struggled to open for far too long. And she wasn’t going to let it swing shut until she had faced all that she had been unable to face.
“He… My father left us far too suddenly,” she began, staring down at her glass. “It was such a normal day. There was nothing amiss—nothing that could have forewarned me of what was going to happen. I … I went to see him in his study for a game of chess. As long as he was not busy, we always played chess together in the afternoons. A-And he had seemed so healthy and happy to see me…”
“I sat down, and we exchanged a few words, after which he urged me to make the first move. I did, but he never got to make his. He—he suddenly was struggling to breathe, and I panicked, not knowing what to do. I called for help when he fell, but… but it wasn’t—we couldn’t do anything. He died holding onto my hands, trying to speak but…”
“Sometimes… I wondered if it would have made a difference had I known what would befall our family that day. Would… would I have gotten to say the words I desperately wished I had told him before he… Would it h-have been better if he had been sick beforehand, and we knew to expect the inevitable? Would we have had more time? Would it have helped?”
Sometime during her retelling of the events that led to her father’s passing, she had stood up and walked to Richard’s desk, leaning against it, mindlessly running her hand over the swirls of the gleaming oak top.
With a shaky breath, she raised her glass to her lips, downing a large mouthful of whiskey, barely regretting it as the liquid seared her throat.
Suddenly feeling ashamed, she sighed, risking a glance at her husband. “I am sorry. I didn’t mean to?—”
“I never wanted to be a duke.”
The admission was so quiet that she nearly missed it. But once the words began to echo in her mind, she couldn’t help but shift her whole attention to him.
He was standing now as well, walking towards her slowly as he continued to speak in a voice that seemed heavy with emotion and yet somehow… devoid of it at the same time.
“I am well aware that the entirety of London sees me as a joke, compared to my brother William. I agree—I, better than anyone, was well aware of how perfect he was. I admired him a lot. I loved him very much. And I know I cannot compare to him,” he began bitterly and Nancy stepped closer to tell him he was doing just fine, but he simply went on.
“When I inherited the dukedom after his death, it came with a letter from him. He told me he had found me a wife, a woman he thought was perfect for me.”
Their eyes met as he finished his sentence, and a shiver went down her spine.
“He said… your social standing wasn’t the reason he had chosen you, but it was because the first and only time he had met you, you had been with your father at a ball. And he admired your closeness which greatly contrasted with the…tenuousrelationship we had with ours,” he added.
Nancy realized that she had indeed met with the Duke’s brother once, barely a week after her debut. That time had been such a whirlwind she had barely registered all the names and faces she had become acquainted with. And yet, William remembered her.
“Although I didn’t feel as though marriage would suit me or anyone would give me the time of day, because of my reputation, I did it anyway. Because he meant a lot to me, and this title was his before I had to take it on. And I do not want to sully his name and reputation, but I fear I might do that anyway. Just as I have everything else.”
Richard looked… tired. She had never noticed how exhausted he appeared until then, the effort and time he had devoted to keeping his family name and honoring his late brother suddenly evident as she saw him in a new light.
And her heart began to ache for him again.
He was so close to her now, enough that she could easily touch him if she simply reached out her hand.
But she didn’t. Instead, she spoke up softly, blushing beneath his heavy gaze. “I do not think you are a joke. And neither does Dash.”
It sounded quite silly to her after the words were spoken. But they seemed to be the right words to say because shortly after, Richard smiled, the look stunning her into silence, and he chuckled.
“Thank you. I’m glad you both feel that way,” he replied in an impossibly soft tone.
“Of course,” she meant to say in a cheeky, teasing manner, but it came out breathless instead.
