Page 91 of From Unwanted to Duchess
“I am his godmother, not his aunt,” Aunt Eugenia corrected. “But I appreciate the kind words.” She looked at James again. “That is the least you can do for her. You owe her that much.”
James nodded. “I know it. I do. I must speak to her father. Make him understand that she has done nothing wrong.”
“You may wish to consider remaining married to her in order to provide her legal protection,” Gideon suggested.
James had just thought of that, indeed. He would have to look into how all of this worked.
Here he was again, having made impulsive decisions and having caused nothing but harm.
“This is a perfect example of why I should not be married in the first place,” he muttered bitterly. “I decided that we should be wed because it served me in the moment, because I could not think of anything else. I let my impulsiveness get the better of me.”
“That is not true, and you know it,” Aunt Eugenia said. “You thought long and hard before you made this decision. It was not impulsive. You must stop blaming yourself for everything. Although in this case, it really is your fault.”
“Aunt Eugenia?—”
She raised her hand and looked at Gideon. “Pray, are you aware of my godson’s situation as it relates to his father and brother, and how his brother died?”
Gideon nodded. “Yes, he told me long ago. Foolish, if you ask me, to take on the burden.”
“Gideon,” James hissed.
“But she asked me a question. I am answering. Is she not entitled to an answer?”
James waved a dismissive hand. “How do you know, Aunt Eugenia? Did Frances tell you?”
“She confided in her friend, and I happened to overhear her,” Aunt Eugenia said. “And I am glad I did. James, have you ever thought that perhaps you were holding onto this guilt because it keeps you from accepting the awful truth that your father was simply a terrible man? That it keeps you from thinking about how he mistreated you and how unkind he was to you all these years? You wrap yourself in this cloak of guilt, telling yourself that you are the reason your brother is dead, even though deepdown, you must know that is not true, because it keeps you from feeling the pain of having a father who did not love you.”
James had always known his father didn’t love him, but having somebody else spell it out was painful.
“That is what I thought,” Gideon chimed in. “And perhaps you’ve been determined not to be married because you are afraid of not only losing someone you love like you lost your brother, but also of being rejected.”
James got up. He did not appreciate this confederacy that had spontaneously formed against him.
“I do not wish to talk about this.”
“No,” Aunt Eugenia said, “and you haven’t for many, many years. But perhaps it is time. You have a young woman who adores you and who wants to be with you, and you have hurt her because you are so consumed by guilt over something you had nothing to do with. You were afraid to lose her in a tragic way, like you lost your brother, or to wake up one day and realize that she no longer loves you.”
“Is that so strange to believe?” James raised his shoulders. “That I fear losing those I love? I fret without end that something would happen to you, Aunt Eugenia, or to you, Gideon. The two of you are the only family I have left. And the fear I have of losing Frances to some unforeseen tragedy—it is multifold when compared to the fear I have for the two of you, which already is immense in and of itself.”
“You cannot prevent tragedies all your life,” Gideon said quietly, as though soothing an errant horse.
“No, I cannot. But I can stop myself from being involved in such situations.”
“Except you cannot,” Aunt Eugenia argued. “You already love her. It does not matter if you annul the marriage or not. Your love will remain there. Perhaps it will fade over time, but you will always feel something for her. You will always care what happens to her, and if something does happen to her, you will feel the pain. If her father takes away, you will feel that guilt. That is what it is to feel responsible and to love someone. And you will always wonder what if.”
James groaned and looked down. “I understand that.”
“As for your other fear,” Gideon said, “that she may stop loving you one day, as your father seems to have done—that applies to any relationship. I could wake up one morning and decide I am quite done with our friendship.”
“By Jove,” James huffed. “Gideon, that is immensely helpful and makes me feel so much more secure.”
“You are very welcome.” Gideon smirked. “But in all seriousness, I do not anticipate that to happen, but one can never know what happens in life. However, I do believe that if you are married to the right person, such a thing will never occur. You may go through difficulties, but you will always end up together. I truly believe that.”
“Young man,” Aunt Eugenia interjected, unable to suppress a smile, “I will say those are strong words, and they may have a stronger impact if the one wielding them was not an eternal bachelor.”
“No longer,” Gideon quipped. “I do have a lady.”
“What?” Aunt Eugenia and James blurted at once.
