Page 55 of How the Duke Saved Christmas

“Felt right to me,” he murmured.

With a huff of irritation, she grabbed at her bodice with both hands. “Why are you doing this?”

Undaunted, he reached for her hair, to remove the pins and let it fall loose around her shoulders. He set the pins aside on the bedside table and raked his fingers through her golden curls. “I’m helping you undress so Mrs. Bailey doesn’t have to leave her warm bed.”

“I’m quite capable of undressing myself.”

“I’m sure you are.” He lowered his mouth over her shoulder to her ear and used all the restraint he possessed not to kiss her neck. “But why won’t you let the people who care about you help you? Why do you always refuse help?”

“I don’t—”

“Always.”

At that one-word chastisement, she repeated, much softer, “I don’t.”

“You let Anthony help you, you mean, as long as he leaves you alone afterward.” He slowly returned his hands to her back and finished undoing the last of the buttons. “You let Mrs. Bailey because the woman behaves like a guard dog to keep away anyone who might come too close.”

He gently tugged her dress down her arms and nearly rejoiced when she slowly allowed him to pull one arm after the other out of the sleeves until the dress lay bunched around her waist. Stays, shift, petticoats… Dear God, how much he hated all those layers.

“You let the children help you because you know you’ll never see them again, and because they’re four pint-sized barriers to keep me away.”

“They aren’t—” She choked off when he slipped his hands inside her dress from the back and slowly pushed the dress beneath her and down her legs until it puddled at the floor at her feet.

“And me… You won’t even let me carry you inside the house without protesting.” No longer able to resist, he lowered his mouth and placed a lingering kiss to the back of her neck. “How much longer do I have to suffer for something that was never my fault?”

She squeezed shut her eyes, leaving him no choice but to kneel on the floor in front of her to remove her shoes and set them aside. He reached beneath her shift to untie her left stocking, then slowly rolled it down her leg, over her toes, and off.

“Clara?” he entreated, his hands resting on her calves.

Her eyes fluttered open, and the glistening tears he saw in them clenched around his chest like a vise. “I don’t want to be a burden to anyone,” she confessed in a breathless whisper. “Especially not to you.”

“Helping you would never be a burden.” He slipped his hand up her right leg to untie her remaining stocking, and he held his breath, afraid she might reflexively shift away to keep him from touching her scar. Thank God she didn’t move. It would have broken him. “It’s a gift.” He rolled down the stocking and let it drop to the floor next to its mate. “You said the same thing earlier at the church, that carrying you was a burden. I don’t know why you think I’m not able to carry you when…”

His hands stilled as the realization of why she’d been refusing his help fell over him as coldly as the snow falling outside her window.A burden… More than thinking a duke shouldn’t carry her from place to place, more than protesting that she didn’t need his help undressing—

The emotion that gripped him came so swiftly, so painfully that he sucked in a mouthful of air in an attempt to beat it back. “Tell me you didn’t…” he rasped out. “Tell me you didn’t break off our engagement because you didn’t want to burden me.”

She turned her face away.

“Clara, look at me,” he ordered, not knowing whether to feel stunned, betrayed, or furious. When she refused, he rose up onto his knees, took her chin, and gently turned her face toward him. The tears clinging to her wet lashes glistened in the dim firelight. “Tell me I’m wrong.”Dear God, please tell me I’m wrong.“I can’t believe…” But every heartbeat that she remained silently only confirmed his fear. “But you loved me, wanted to marry me, wanted a future and family together.”

She gave a jerking nod and blinked furiously, yet she couldn’t stop the tears from slipping down her cheeks. “More than anything.” Her rasping whisper pierced him. “But the accident changed all that.”

He rocked back onto his heels. “Did you really think so little of me?” he demanded, his jaw tightening. “Did you think I was so weak that I couldn’t give you the love and support you needed?”

“No. That wasn’t it at all.”

“Then why?” When her shaking fingers touched his cheeks, the pain was excruciating. “If you ever loved me, then you owe me at least that much. If you were ever once true in your feelings—”

“Because I wanted you to have the life I could never give you,” she choked out as a sob shuddered through her. She dropped her hands to her lap, lowering her gaze after them. “I loved you enough to let you go.”

Her soft words sliced into him like a blade.

She stared down at her hands as she wrung them in her lap, unable to stop the trembling of her fingers. “You deserve a wife who can be a true partner to you, a woman who can help you with the duties of the dukedom, not someone who will raise whispers every time you enter the room without her—worse, laughter when she’s carried in by the footman at your side.” She inhaled a ragged breath to fight down her sobs. “I would have brought you nothing but burden and ridicule.”

She swiped the back of her hand across her eyes, and the small gesture broke him.

He sat beside her on the edge of the bed and cupped her face between his hands, then leaned in to console her with a kiss.