Page 28 of A Bride for the Cruel Duke (Claimed by Regency Devils #1)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“I guess this proves the point now, doesn’t it?” Daniel said, looking and sounding a little bit too pleased with himself.

“Wh—what?” Caroline pulled back from hugging her mother and looked at Daniel, seeing right away how smug and proud of himself he appeared.

“About His Grace,” Daniel confirmed. “That he is exactly who we said he was—who I said he was, at that.”

“Daniel,” her mother hissed. “Now is not the time.”

“I am sorry, Mother, but now is the time exactly. You will remember that when His Grace first suggested this marriage, I was against it. I knew who he was and could not countenance my sister marrying such a monster.”

That was not true. Daniel’s concern for Caroline was on account of his own perception of himself, and how her actions might affect his reputation. But Daniel, sensing victory in the air, chose to ignore that fact. “We should just be grateful that she managed to escape when she did. And in one piece, at that.”

Caroline winced at her brother’s harsh words. And not just what was said, but that he was using this moment to say them. Not five minutes she had been home, throwing herself at her mother for comfort and care in ways she had not needed to do since she was a little girl, only for her brother to use what should have been a moment of tragedy for his own gain.

It was the same night that she had fought with Anthony. The same evening she’d had her family over for supper. By the looks of things, they had only just arrived home before she came stumbling through the front door, desperate and helpless and bereft of any sense of what she might do.

She and Anthony had fought. He had asked her to leave—a command that in this instance she knew better than to deny. And where she might have liked to have believed that he would change his mind and come for her, somehow, she was very quickly giving up on that notion. All this time, he was lying to me. And I was a fool to believe him.

“We can talk about this later.” Her mother held her still, as if to shield her from Anthony. “For now, Caroline, let us get you upstairs.”

“He is not like that...” Caroline spoke the words in a whisper.

“Excuse me?” Daniel said.

“Anthony...” Caroline tried to pull herself free from her mother, but her mother refused to let go. “He is not like that. He is not a bad man.”

“You are not serious?” Daniel scoffed. “After how he has treated you? You still try and defend him.”

“He—”

“Caroline!” Aurelia appeared at the top of the steps. “What are you doing here?” She hurried toward Caroline.

“His Grace kicked her out,” Daniel said. “And she is lucky that he did. The man is a monster. The Cruel Duke indeed.”

“Do not sound so pleased by it!” Aurelia snapped as she bypassed her brother and threw herself at Caroline.

“I am certainly not pleased,” Daniel said haughtily. “Quite the opposite, in fact. When word of this gets out...” He sighed and shook his head. “We will have to make it clear that Caroline left for reasons of her own safety. Not hard to believe, considering who she married.”

“I told you, now is not the time,” Caroline’s mother snapped. “Tomorrow, we will discuss this.”

“You can,” Daniel said. “I shall start sending letters tonight, however. Best that we get our side of the story out first.”

“Daniel...”

“No, Mother. I warned you. I did. And as tragic as this is, ignoring it will not make a difference.”

Aurelia glared at him. “You are such a pr?—”

“I would not finish that sentence if I were you.”

“You are!”

“Aurelia!” Caroline’s mother cried. “Hold your tongue!”

“He started it!”

“And I am finishing it!”

As her sister and mother and brother argued, Caroline felt herself wilting. She was still in shock over what had happened. She was still reeling from it, trying to piece together how it had occurred. Was it my fault? Is Daniel correct? Was this a natural consequence of a marriage that never stood a chance of working?

Strange that through it all, Caroline still felt a desire to defend Anthony. Even after what he had done, she did not hate him. Dammit, even after everything, I still love him as I did yesterday, and the day before that. I still want the marriage that we were so close to having. Yet, she said none of this, choosing silence as her family argued and slandered Anthony’s name.

She was back home. Back to her old self. Back to being invisible and ignored and treated as insignificant. For all of Anthony’s faults, at least he had seen her. At least it had felt that way. And despite what he had told her just now, she still could not believe his words fully. Still, she hung onto the hope that this was not the end…

But what could she do? How could she make him see the truth of what she knew he felt in his heart? She had no idea. And not because she thought what he had said was true, but because he wanted it to be. The reason that he did… that was what confused her the most.

And so it was that Caroline allowed her mother to lead her toward her room as Daniel disappeared inside his office, set on penning a series of letters that would get ahead of the gossip that was sure to follow this marriage’s end. Caroline did not want him to write them, because she knew they would be false and filled with slander. But she did nothing to stop him, knowing he wouldn’t listen to her anyway.

Her marriage was over. She still wasn’t quite sure how it happened, and so quickly. But she also knew Anthony well enough to know that he would not come for her, he would not beg, and he certainly would not admit to how he truly felt. And where she might have thought to go back him... No, even that is not an option.

Her marriage of convenience had been a most inconvenient thing, and now that it was over, she could not help but wonder how she had fallen so in love with the so-called Cruel Duke, and how she could possibly hope to go on from here.

* * *

The letter came for Anthony three days after he had asked Caroline to leave their home. He was in the garden at the time, walking aimlessly among the hedges and flowerbeds, doing what he could to ignore the stabbing pain that pierced his heart such that he half expected to look down and see a trail of blood following him.

It will pass soon enough. A few more days and I will forget Caroline and our marriage. I will forget how she made me feel. I will forget what it was like to care for someone, and to have them care for me back. I will forget... hopefully, everything.

All Anthony wanted was for things to return to how they had been before his marriage. For years, he had lived a life of near isolation, happy to shut himself from the world as he ignored what people said and thought about him—he did not care! Let them call him the Cruel Duke. Let them think that he was a monster. It had no effect on his life, the opinions of lesser souls, so what did it matter how they spoke behind his back?

He was used to not caring. He was used to being on his own. Most of all, he was used to being feared. For years, he had convinced himself too that he liked it. Respect was one thing, but to be able to walk into a room and take command with little more than a look and a bit of posturing was the embodiment of how he saw himself.

Now, he wondered if he had taken it too far.

Being feared is one thing, but I know now that it is not nearly as satisfying as that other emotion to which I had never been privy until suddenly I was. Causing terror in my peers does fill me with some sense of purpose, sure, but it was nothing when compared to how I felt with Caroline...

Caroline had loved him. Somehow, she had seen through the rumors and the icy facade that he presented as if it was a second skin. She had suffered through his moods and hostile temperament, willing to see past it to a side that even Anthony had not been aware of until it was too late. Love... caring... wishing to be with someone, not because of what they might do for you, but because of how they made you feel. And typical me, I did as I always do when faced with the unknown. I lashed out, snarled and snapped, and turned into a monster.

The irony here did not escape Anthony either. He knew that if he went to her and apologized that she would likely forgive him. But that would require him to admit how he felt. For how much he had changed this last week, he wasn’t sure he was quite able to do that...

That was until the letter came for him, anyhow.

“Your Grace!” Mr. Jeffries hurried across the garden toward him. He held in his hand a piece of parchment, which he waved in the air. “I am sorry to disturb you, but there is something you need to see!”

Times were that Anthony might have chastised Mr. Jefferies, or any member of his staff, for interrupting him after they had been told not to. But times had changed, and Anthony couldn’t find it in himself to do so.

“What is it, Mr. Jeffries?” he sighed.

“A letter, Your Grace.” Mr. Jeffries pulled up before Anthony, holding out the letter. “It is?—”

“Leave it in my office,” Anthony said. “Whoever it is from, I am sure it can wait.”

“But, Your Grace...” He grimaced nervously, knowing better than to argue with Anthony. “The letter is not for you. It is... His Grace, Duke Aldworth sent it to be read at once. Apparently, it was delivered to him just this morning.”

Anthony frowned. “It is not for me, but Roderick sent it to me—what are you saying Mr. Jeffries? Speak sense!”

“It is a letter that has been sent to near every member of the peerage in London, Your Grace. And its contents...” He winced. “They concern you and Her Grace. It is imperative that you read it.”

Anthony’s stomach twisted as he understood finally what this letter likely contained. Although it was not official, he and Caroline would be putting an end to their marriage, probably through the process of annulling the union entirely. His guess was that she had taken the initiative, a final nail in the coffin.

Although, why she had then seen fit to send a letter out announcing such a thing...

Anthony took the letter and scanned it quickly. Or he meant to, but paused before finished the first sentence. His blood began to boil as he started again. His jaw clenched tight. His foot began to tap. Anger was what took him. Anger and disbelief over what he was reading.

The letter spoke of a necessary dissolution of his marriage. Phrases such as “ She was lucky to escape without serious injury,” and “ The horrors that she was subjected to during their brief time together,” stuck out specifically. The picture painted in this letter was one of a damsel in distress, forced into a marriage that was not her fault, subjected to torture and terror the likes of which nobody should have to endure.

“This...” Anthony was shaking. “This was sent to others?”

“Dozens of copies, I am told,” Mr. Jeffries said.

He might have laughed, were it not so shocking. Times were that Anthony would not have cared less about a letter such as this one. His reputation was that of the Cruel Duke, after all, and what was said in this correspondence was nothing new to him. If anything, he might have embraced it, a further chance to solidify himself as one not to be messed with. But times had changed.

He found now that he cared about what people thought of him. He was not a monster, and if Caroline could see that, then why couldn’t others? What was more, he liked how it felt to be liked, rather than feared.

Beyond that, he thought of Caroline, knowing that she had not penned this letter, as it had painted her as a victim and she was most certainly not that. She was strong. She was assured. She was more than what this letter said of her. A more self-possessed woman he had never met! And this... this sullied her name even more than it did his.

Was that not the point? Did I not send her away because I did not want to admit how much I cared about her? This letter and what it says should not affect me at all. What does it matter what people say of a woman who I spurned?

The lies were becoming harder for Anthony to swallow, such that it was impossible for him to believe what he said or how he felt. He did not enjoy not caring about others. He did not relish being alone. And he hated thinking about the woman he loved being in pain because of him.

What was more, he hadn’t driven Caroline away for the reasons he had told her. The exact opposite! He loved Caroline more than he’d ever loved before, and as he held that letter in his hand, his body shaking with rage, he knew that to deny that truth for any longer would be to see him break completely.

A lifetime spent being the Cruel Duke and he was sick to death of pretending. That wasn’t who he was. It never had been. Now, it was time that he proved it.

“I have to go.” Anthony strode past Mr. Jeffries, a decision made.

“Your Grace!” Mr. Jeffries ran after him. “The letter! A response! Do you wish to?—”

“I will deal it with, Mr. Jeffries,” he called over his shoulder. And he would, too.

He did not care about the letter—at least not in regard to himself. What he cared about was Caroline and how it had made her look. She was not a weak, helpless maiden. She was not a prisoner. She was the hero who had slain the beast, not through fury, but through kindness.

It was time now for Anthony to do the same for her.