Page 64 of A Duchess Untouched

He entered the room with his attention fixed on Selina, not even glancing toward Lady Marlow and Portia, who were plainly gaping at him.

“Selina,” he began, his voice so raw it shook Selina to the core. He not only looked thinner but also sounded like someone who had been ill. She tried not to show that she was trembling. “I must speak with you in private.”

“I am not sure we have anything to say, Your Grace.” Her voice was harsher than she had intended.

“Do we not? You are carrying our child, and you left our home without even discussing this with me. Please, Selina. I will not leave until you at least give me a chance to explain.” There was desperation in his voice and gaze. “Please.”

Selina stared at the man she had married, the same man who had abandoned her, then returned and slowly stolen her heart with every kiss. Yet he was also the man who had kept secrets for years, never speaking of them even as they grew more intimate. The urge to refuse him was strong, but her desire to stay and hear what he had to say was stronger.

“Very well,” she said, surprised at how her voice sounded steady.

She walked through the doors, leading them to the gardens. The stone walls, covered with ivy, gave them some privacy. Once she found the perfect spot, she stopped and turned to him, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Say what you came here to say, Matthew. I am tired, and I need to rest,” Selina said, her eyes on him. She felt exhausted; she could not even manage to glare at him.

He took it as a cue to move closer to her. He stopped just an arm’s length away, swallowing hard before looking at her again. She felt slightly unsettled by the way he seemed to study her features one by one.

“We need to talk, Selina,” Matthew rasped. Selina scoffed at that, noting that those words were unnecessary. Yes, they needed to say things before finally closing this chapter: their doomed marriage. “I read your letter.”

Selina stiffened. She had wrestled with whether to leave anything behind, thinking a letter might explain things without forcing her to talk to him.

“That is good,” she said. “Then you know why I left. I did not want to inconvenience you and make myself a pitiful example of a wife who would take anything from her husband. Matthew, I would rather live alone than live with a husband who is pining for another woman.”

“Selina, stop. There is no such other woman!”

Selina started at Matthew’s outburst, but she was not afraid of him. For some reason, he had never given her cause to be afraid. She stayed where she was, even as he stepped closer, surprised to see unshed tears in his eyes.

“There is no mistress,” he breathed. “There has never been any other woman for me but you. I was a rake, yes, but I have not touched, not even looked at another woman since I married you. It might be strange to hear that, given that we did not marry for love and I disappeared immediately after the wedding, but it is true.”

Confusion descended on Selina. “Matthew, please. There is no point in lying to me. I have heard about the letters you have been sending to the maid at Essex House. I know you have tried to speak with her. The woman has a boy, only about five years old.”

“She does!” Matthew agreed. “Mary Wills has a five-year-old son. I admit I have been searching for her for four years! The search has been long and difficult, stretching from one village to the next across almost the whole of England. I was surprised and relieved to learn that she had finally moved to London. That allowed me to stay here, too. But one detail must be set straight. The boy is not my child, but Robert’s.”

Selina went still. She could not even blink.

“The boy is… Robert’s?” Her voice cracked.

“Yes, Robert’s,” Matthew repeated, finally letting a tear fall. “Six years ago, before he died in that accident, Robert had gotten his mistress, Mary Wills, with child. She might have been a simple village girl, but he loved her and wanted to marry her. He had asked me to assist him, and I had said yes. I drove the carriage so we could do it in secret, since our mother would never have allowed this union. But… I was drunk and caused the accident that led to his death. And then I told myself I had to find Mary and help her, because that is what Robert would have wanted. It was all my fault! So I made it my mission to search for her and their son wherever it might take me. I could not rest or let myself be happy until I fulfilled my mission.”

“Matthew…”

“I failed my brother repeatedly,” Matthew continued. Selina could now recognize the guilt he had carried for so long. “I scoured parish registries for records of Mary and her son. I paid men to search for them. Because they were hard to find, I had to leave London to look for her and the boy. Then I thought my journey had finally ended when someone reported she was at Essex House, but she would not reply to my letters, so I had to go and speak to her, but she refused to see me.”

Selina did not know what to say. The pieces of the puzzle fell into place as everything swirled in her mind. Portia was right. She had drawn her conclusions instead of asking the man himself. She had feared he would lie, but she could hear the truth and agony in his words.

“Oh, Matthew,” she finally gasped as she allowed herself to cry. Warm tears fell down her cheeks, no longer contained. “You stubborn man. Why did you not tell me? I could have helped you find her.”

“Because I was terrified and guilty,” he said. “I thought my mother hated me for causing Robert’s death. I believed I had no right to be happy until I had managed to find and care for Mary and their son.”

Matthew looked at her, his brown eyes brimming with a worshipful devotion that made her catch her breath. He had looked at her intently before, but this time he looked completely raw, stripped of all his walls.

“I should have told you everything the moment I returned,” he said. “I should have told you that I love you. But I thought I was not allowed to be happy, and that if I was, something would tear you away from me.”

Selina looked at the powerful Duke of Wentley, crying in front of her, unafraid of what she might think. Men often thought they should not show even a hint of emotion. But Matthew finally let himself go. It was also time for her to let go of all the restraints she had wound around herself.

“I love you, too, Matthew,” she sobbed into his shoulder. “I love you so much that it destroyed me to hear that you might care for someone else enough to go to the ends of the earth to find her. But now I understand. I know why you had to do it. I… I should not have left like that.”

A ragged gasp escaped Matthew as he wrapped his broad arms around her waist, pulling her tightly against him.