Page 40 of The Big Bad Duke

She turned toward him and smoothed her chemise where it clung to her body. “I need to wash up.”

He untied the ribbons of her chemise and let it fall away as well. Dane couldn’t help the licentious gaze that settled on her breasts before moving lower, but he quickly raised his eyes, a flicker of humor in his dark gaze. “I’ll help you,” he said gently, moving to the washstand.

She heard the soft splash of water as he emptied the pitcher, followed by the sound of him wringing out a fresh towel.

When he returned to her, the cool cloth touched her shoulders, and she sighed at the refreshing sensation.

“My thoughts keep returning to that damned journal,” she said as he drew the damp towel along her arm.

“Your uncle,” he replied, moving the cloth across her back with gentle strokes.

“Yes.” She closed her eyes, feeling safe in the warm, caring hands of her husband. “I keep thinking about what my parents would think of me, knowing that I’ve loved their murderer all this time.”

He paused in his ministrations. “He didn’t murder them.”

“Not directly, no. But he was the reason they were killed.” She felt him resume cleaning her, the cloth now moving down her other arm. “Dane, you lost your father because of him. St. John lost his parents. So many others… His poor judgment and selfishness ruined so many lives. I don’t know how to forgive him. But I also don’t know how to hate him. It’s been weeks, and I still don’t know how to feel.”

He set down the cloth and turned her to face him, his hands gentle on her freshly washed shoulders.

“Perhaps you don’t have to choose.”

“What do you mean?”

“Perhaps you don’t have to settle on one emotion. You can feel more than one thing at a time. You can love him for the life he gave you, and you can hate him for the life he took away from you.”

She looked up into his eyes, feeling vulnerable in more ways than one. “I used to love him so much. I have so many good memories with him, and now I’m questioning everything. How can I remember those things fondly now? He taught me to ride my first horse, you know. We used to have archery competitions in the garden.” A tear slipped down her cheek. “He supported me during my debut when I was deemed a diamond of the first water, when suitors were beating down our door but I wasn’t ready to wed. He never pressured me, always told me to take my time, that the right man would wait.”

His thumb brushed away the tear with the same gentleness he’d shown while washing her.

“Two things can be true at the same time. He loved you more than anything in the world. He raised you like his own. He was a good father to you. But he was also a flawed, terrible human being who betrayed your parents for a quick profit.”

She felt her breath hitch as he reached for a dry towel, carefully patting her skin.

“He made a terrible mistake and was guilt-ridden his entire life,” he continued. “Tortured and blackmailed into his tragic death. You’re allowed to hate him for that without feeling like you’re betraying the man who raised you. You’re also allowed to cherish the memories you built together without feeling like you’re betraying your parents.”

His voice was steady and certain as he wrapped the towel around her shoulders.

“Try to remember the man who loved you and raised you separately from the man who killed your parents. The man who raised you eventually killed the traitor within himself. He changed. But he is still a flawed man. You can love him at times, and you can hate him at other times. It doesn’t have to be one or the other.”

She leaned into him. “Sometimes I feel like I’m not strong enough to sort through my feelings and continue with my life as if I haven’t learned about the biggest betrayal I’ve ever experienced.”

“You don’t have to be,” Dane said, his voice low.

“Don’t I?”

“No, you don’t have to be strong all the time. You can feel weak and hopeless, but you need to remember that you’re not alone anymore. If it’s too difficult to stand, you can lean on me. And if you feel like falling apart, you can do that, too. I will pick up your pieces and hold them for you until you feel like putting yourself back together.”

Caroline searched his face for any sign of judgment or disapproval. “And you won’t think less of me for that?”

“Less of you?” He seemed surprised by the question. “Every day, I think I could not love you more. And every day, I prove myself wrong. I don’t love you because you’re perfect or because you’re strong, confident, and self-sufficient. What I love you for is your capacity to love, to feel, your brilliant mind, and your caring nature. No, you are not strong all the time; what you are is resilient. You are human, and you are bound to feel suffocated or buried by overwhelming emotions at times. You are bound to lose yourself at times. Finding your way back is what makes you resilient. And I will help you do that.”

Caroline let herself fall against her husband’s broad chest, drawing strength from him. He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly.

“You just need some time to regain your strength. Perhaps a change of scenery might help?”

She looked up at him. “What do you mean?”

“How about we take a trip?”