Page 70 of To Steal a Duchess

“Gideon.” With firm hands, Dorian pulled his friend to face him. “I understand, but Nancy cares about you, about your life together. Of course, you want the wedding to be beautiful, but this is about what the day represents, not how it is dressed up to look. Surprises can be sidelined in favor of making sure you do not stress so much. Besides, could it not be a bonding thing for you both to sit down and decide together?”

Gideon blinked at him. “I think that is the best advice you have ever given me.”

“You have never needed a lot of advice,” Dorian pointed out, returning to his window position. “Except for when you would make foolish decisions about which women to pursue. But that is behind you. What is in front of you is most important.”

“You are right.” Gideon sighed, going over to join Dorian at the window. “Although I cannot help noticing how interested you are in my plans. You only show interest when you are trying not to think of something. I appreciate it, of course, but I know your tells. Something is bothering you, and your voice changed when you referred to your wedding.”

“Gideon.” Dorian sighed, picking up his glass to refill it. He felt his friend’s eyes track him. “Gideon, I—this is about you and your day.”

“And we have discussed that. That is resolved, but what is not is what has you pacing like a caged animal.”

“I am not—” Dorian realized he had once he had refilled his drink, treading back and forth in front of the liquor cabinet. He sighed, defeated. “It is Eloise.”

Gideon smiled. “It is always Eloise.”

Dorian glowered at him. “She is the complete opposite of what she was supposed to be.” The words came out rough and annoyed.

“She was supposed to be convenient. A wife to stop the ton questioning when I would settle down, and it would serve me well as the Duke of Oldcliff. It was transactional; I helped her; she helped me.”

“And now?”

“And now… I need to keep my distance,” Dorian growled, pacing harshly. “I—I am getting too close. No, I already have. She is driving me mad, Gideon. She—she breaks every ounce of my control, and I do not know how to snatch it back aside from distancing her again.”

“And yet even when you were distanced, you were tempted,” Gideon pointed out.

“Yes, but not as much. Even now, I am getting wound up over it all. I crave her, Gideon. I want my wife in every sense. I want her beyond convenient means. I want to… I want to share my love of the sea and where it all came from with her, but I must keep her away.”

“Or… you could erase the distance,” Gideon said slowly. “And stop torturing yourself. You are obsessing over her because you have not had her yet⁠—”

“And that she makes me lose control.”

“So take control. You lose it more when you do not know your surroundings, of course, but if you are aware of how she is making you feel, then control the situation. If you cannot control yourself, then find something to control.”

Dorian paused. “It’s like playing a game,” he mused. “I cannot control the other players’ deck, but I can make the most of mine.”

“Indeed.”

“But you know how I feel about things being utterly out of my hands.” Dorian finally slumped against the wall, tipping his head back. He sighed, shaking his head. “There have been too many times I have not controlled something, and I lose them.”

“Dorian.” Gideon’s voice turned gentler. “What happened at the lighthouse when you were a boy was not your fault. You could not have managed your father’s rage. It was completely unpredictable. And John’s dea⁠—”

“Do not,” Dorian murmured, his voice tight. “I cannot hear about him right now. His name… it still echoes in my own scream. I still hear his own shouts when the waves crash too hard. I hear my father’s rage when Oldcliff is hit by a storm. I hear it constantly, but right now… I feel a reprieve.”

Gideon nodded. “That lighthouse is your curse, Dorian. I hope one day you can return to it with a lighter heart and make it what it once was.”

“The lighthouse is a tomb.” His voice turned sharp as he finished his drink. “I have no business going up there as often as I do. Being in London is doing me good.”

“Yes? Then start acting like it. Let your wife in. She is not your past, and if anything, I think she will find the man you once were—and still are—fascinating, especially with her shared interest in the sea. She will not hurt you, Dorian. The only person you are hurting is yourself.”

Dorian huffed softly, his jaw tight. “You can be rather wise when you want to be, do you know that?”

“I am not your best friend for nothing.” Gideon grinned, and the tension was broken. “We did not drag one another out of those awful first days of grief and anguish for nothing. I am always here for you, but I will tell you this: you are hurting both Eloise and yourself by being distant. Let her in, let yourself feel something that is not stoic, steel control for once. Who knows, maybe letting go will be the exact thing you need.”

Dorian only nodded, not knowing what to say.

“Just once,” Gideon suggested. “Let yourself lose control once, and see what happens. You might find you like it.”

Chapter Twenty