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Story: Her Duke's Second Chance
Surely, they are on their way back now.
“I do not care becauseIhave something to say toyou. I have a lot to get off my chest.”
“Well, I am not interested in anything you have to say.” She pretended to focus on her book. Newston slapped the book out of her hand, and it fell on the floor.
She looked up at him, her mouth agape. “Howdareyou? Have you forgotten yourself?”
“I have not forgotten the debt you owe me.”
“What debt?” she asked incredulously.
“The debt you owe me for thwarting my plans. When you came to Gretna Green and snatched your sister from my hands. We were to be married. Her dowry would have paid off all my debts. I would have been a man of leisure now instead of running and hiding like some…sewer rat,” he spat.
“That is not my fault, and neither is it my problem,” she shot back.
“Whose fault is it then? If you had not come after us, everything would have been fine!”
She suddenly felt very tired. His argument was ludicrous, and Georgiana wanted no part of it. “Leave me alone, Thomas. Get out of my house before I scream.”
“Ha!” He grabbed her by her gown and pulled on it viciously until it tore, exposing her stays. “Try it. I shall say that we were having a tryst, and you screamed out of embarrassment at being caught. You are nothing but a harlot, undeserving of your marriage and title.”
She covered the exposed bit of lingerie with her hand. “What do you want?” she asked bitterly, knowing that even if no one believed him, his accusations alone could soil her reputation.
“I want an inconvenience fee. I want you to pay me all the money I would have obtained from Daisy’s dowry.”
She gaped at him, quite stupefied by his audacity. “No,” she said.
“You cannot say no unless you want me to ruin your reputation,” he hissed.
“I said,no.”
CHAPTER 36
Robert opened the cemetery gate. A brisk wind whipped around his legs despite the sunlight that shone through the trees.
It had been ten years since he had ventured there.
He tried to convince himself that it was because he had rarely been to London during that period, but he recognized that it was time to admit he had actively avoided the place.
I have actively avoided seeing Angela’s grave.
He weaved his way through the gravestones, intent on his destination. She had been buried in the family plot, her simple headstone surrounded by the older graves of her grandparents and uncle.
He stopped in front of her gravestone and read the simple inscription; her name, followed by a Latin quote which lamented the briefness of man’s sojourn on this earth.
He sighed deeply and placed a bouquet of flowers upon her grave.
“Angela,” he said, and choked. “I still see you in my dreams sometimes. In them, your body is as broken as it was when they finally pulled the horse off you, but I always kneel beside you and try to put the pieces of you back together. And I always fail. Somewhere behind me, someone cackles with glee because I am trying so hard to do something outside of my power.”
He swallowed and looked off into the trees.
“I did not realize until today that it was a metaphor. That I have been trying to hold the old pieces of myself together, even though they no longer fit.” He huffed, shaking his head. “Yes, I know what you would say. ‘What poppycock, Emberford. Pull yourself together.’ And you would be right. But also wrong.”
He shook his head again.
“In any case, I came here today to lay down these roses, together with the burden of my guilt. When I walk out of those gates…I walk out a new man. I will always remember you. But I will no longer let myself fear that what happened to you will happen again; I will not let it stop me from living.”
He stood still for a few moments, subconsciously waiting to receive Angela’s approval before he turned and walked away.
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