Page 46 of In Service to the Duke

But that will not win her back. I’ve already done far too much damage. Causing more will simply widen the rift until she’ll have no choice but to leave. I can’t do that to my sisters or my mother.

I’ll have to do what I’ve always done and bear the burden. If anything, this has aided in my resolve to never marry. I tried once and failed. There will not be a second time.

CHAPTER 20

EMMA

I cannot stay here. I know that for certain. Now that the duke knows where I stand, he will no doubt ship me back home. As much as it hurts to reside under the same roof as the man I’ve come to crave, it will be far more agonizing being back home.

Mother’s letters are already scathing enough, but to hear those words come from her very lips is nigh untenable. But what else is there to do? Perhaps I can take her up on her offer and stay with Portswell and his siblings. That would certainly be the more sensible option.

Still though, just the very idea of no longer being here, a place which felt more like home to me than anywhere else, makes all of this feel far worse. Striding down the hall, I pause by the statue I was eyeing earlier. There, I stare up at Daphne, taking in the fear etched into her marble face.

Would it really have been all that bad to let Apollo capture her? Would it really be all that terrible to have the duke capture me? Yes. Yes, to all of it.

If I refused to trap him for fear of being in a loveless marriage, then I certainly can’t say yes to him when it is clear he holds no such affection for me. What’s worse, is I thought I knew better.

But then, how much can I truly know a man, much less a man like him? The moments in his study and in that infernal hidden room must have meant far more to me than they did for him. I feel foolish, stupid, and, above all else, hurt. Honestly, to think I could entice someone like him.

Reaching out, I stroke the marble, marveling at how lifelike the statue is. If only I could trade places with her. Right now, I take no issue with being a laurel tree. Maybe then, with wood instead of a heart, I can finally think rationally.

Honestly, I have no one to blame but myself. I should have kept myself in my room and with the girls. Never once should I have stepped foot into his study unattended. All it did was leave me bared, open, and my heart vulnerable to be shattered.

The angry part of me almost wishes I would have trapped him. But then, how can I trap a man willingly wanting to marry me? No, not willing, I mentally chide myself. A man who already feels trapped.

Wetness splotches my cheeks as I look over at Apollo, my heart cracking in two. If only it were Blackport who set out to trap me in the first place and not the other way around. If only my meddling mother didn’t throw me in his path to begin with.

Tears stream down my face as I race toward my room. I cannot bear the idea of anyone seeing me like this. Thankfully, the girls are still nowhere to be found. Unfortunately, however, as I round the corner, not only are they both in the foyer, chattering like a bunch of excited magpies, the dowager duchess is there as well.

Dipping into a harried curtsy, I do my best to push past, to hide the shame of my tears, but she doesn’t let me. Her bony hand grabs my wrist, tugging me closer. Though I do my best to blink away the remaining tears, I know she sees them.

“Girls, start your lessons. Miss Gillet will be there shortly.” Without another word, she turns and drags me toward her bedchamber.

For someone so close to the brink of death, her grip is surprisingly strong. Perhaps it was the fresh air doing her body some good. The girls at least seem far more excitable than they have in a long time.

At least about things other than kidnappings. Unfortunately, all that does is conjure up images of Blackport as he rode next to us, ‘defending our honor,’ as his brother rode our way to ‘attack’ us. From that moment, I knew my heart desired him.

But what does my heart know? Obviously, he doesn’t care for me in the same way. Yes, he eventually said the words, but they were merely to placate me, cajole me into saying yes. Somehow, that feels far more dishonorable than him shoving a piece of ginger up my backside.

The dowager duchess shuffles forward, a soft cough drawing my mind back to the present. Though I do my best to think about her and not about her son, I can’t help my brain as it drifts back to our interactions.

Regrettably, all that will do is cause more tears to gather, and it’s hard enough to explain my state as it is. Standing by the window, I wait as her lady’s maid helps her out of her redingote and into her wrapper. The older woman looks so translucent, so pale, and again that niggle of guilt eats at me.

It’s not just Blackport I’ve deceived. It’s the entire household as well. As much as I wish to confess, to tell her the wrong I’ve done, I know it will cause more trouble for me later. If my mother finds I cannot be employed as a governess… I’m not entirely sure what she will do.

What I do know is I will detest whatever punishment she concocts. Still through, I need to come up with some reason why I’m in this state. Perhaps if I tell part of the truth? It would at least ease part of the burden I carry.

Once the dowager duchess is ensconced with her thick blankets, she lifts her hand to me, motioning for me to come over to her. As if walking toward my execution, I shuffle over, refusing to meet her gaze.

“Tell me, child,” she croaks. “Who has vexed you so?” With a delicate sniff, she scents me, leaning back as she stares at me with her all-knowing gaze. “If my son has caused these tears-”

“No, Your Grace,” I cry out, cutting her off.

I cannot have her questioning him. It will lead to far more odious conversations later. Besides, what I say is not false. It’s not completely his fault. Most of what’s transpired between us, I can lay at my feet.

“But you have been in his presence. You can tell me, child. Though I am near the end of my life, I can still bring my son to mind.”

A slight smirk tilts my lips as I picture this tiny, yet awe-inspiring omega taking someone as enormous and ferocious as the duke to heel. With a smile of her own, she pats my hand and winks.