Page 24 of A Bride for the Wicked Duke (Claimed by Regency Devils #2)

Chapter Twenty-Four

“G erald, can I speak with you for a moment?” Rosalind called for him the moment he walked through the front door. She was standing in the foyer, arms folded before her, a concerned expression on her face that told him she had been waiting for him.

“Later,” Gerald said, moving to walk around her. “Now is not a good time.”

He felt immediate guilt for dismissing her like that, and so sharply. But his mood was as sour as it had been all day, perhaps at its worst as he had spent the ride home thinking about what Victor had said as he came to realize within himself all the mistakes that he had made. Now was not the time to speak with Rosalind…

“Later will not do,” Rosalind said, moving to block him. “I wish to speak now.”

Gerald bulked when he saw the determined look his sister fixed on him. There was fire behind her eyes, a sense that she was not going to bow willingly. It might have brought a smile to his face, because the changes he had seen in her lately, while unexpected and not how he pictured his often meek little sister, told him that she was growing into herself. She was not a little girl anymore, a woman grown.

“I…” He hesitated, stumbling slightly as the drink was still in him. “Rosalind, whatever this is, it can wait.” Again, he went to walk around her.

“I said now.” She grabbed his arm.

Gerald turned stiff, his head snapping down and looking at her hand wrapped around his forearm. It was the first time he could ever remember her doing such a thing, as she knew better than to dare raise a hand to him. Indeed, the moment she touched him, she seemed to understand the mistake she had made.

“I just want to talk.” She dropped her hand quickly. “Please.”

Although Gerald was angry, he was not angry with her. The fury that burned through him was for himself, and for that reason he could not bring it upon himself to level his sweet sister with his fire. “Rosalind…”

“I am worried about you, Gerald,” she said quickly, fixing him with that same concerned expression she had held when he’d walked through the door. “Dammit, I am terrified.”

He frowned. “Terrified. “What are you… there is no need to worry after me. Rosalind…” He laughed awkwardly. “What are you saying?”

“Do not pretend that you do not know to what I speak,” she said to him, softening her tone and her expression both. “These past few weeks, you have not been yourself. I would say that you have been a shadow of who you are, but shadows are not nearly so sullen. Even they grow in the sun.”

“Rosalind…” He winced, for he knew what she was talking about.

Just as Victor had noticed Gerald’s less than palatable mood of late, he should not have been surprised that his sister had noticed also. Before Lady Hawkin’s engagement had been announced, his entire world had revolved around his sister. She was all he cared about, and he would do, and did do, anything for her.

Indeed, he had promised himself that now Lady Hawkins was out of the picture, he would turn his eye toward her future and find for her a suitor. Where he had also promised not to be so hard on her, and not force her as he had been doing, he still wished to see her wed, just as he knew she wished it too. Assuming it was to a man who she liked and wanted to be with. Something I did not think important but know now that I could not possibly expect less for her.

Yet he had practically ignored her these past two weeks. He had avoided her. He had spurned her. And the few times they had spent together, he had been withdrawn and miserable such that he hoped she might get the message and not try and force herself on him.

Clearly, she had noticed this turn. But such was her love for him that she wasn’t just going to ignore it. I hate her for that… just as I love her for it all the same.

“Something is wrong,” Rosalind said to him, urging him to open to her. “And do not say otherwise. You are not yourself, Gerald. Anybody can see that! Tell me please, what is the matter. I want to help.”

“It is nothing,” he said weakly, barely able to look at her.

“A lie,” she said. “You are my brother, Gerald. I love you more than…” She laughed. “More than sometimes you deserve. And if you think I am going to sit back and simply watch you deteriorate as you have been doing, then you clearly do not know me as well as I know you. So…” She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. “Tell me, what is the matter.”

He sighed. “Why do you even care. There is nothing you can do.”

“Ah, so something is wrong,” she smirked. “Told you.”

There was no way that Gerald could tell Rosalind what was bothering him. That he had fallen for Lady Hawkins. That they had been sneaking around behind her back. That after all the times he had warned Rosalind off her best friend, citing her as a bad influence and beneath her, to admit that he now wanted her like he had never wanted anyone. I cannot face the shame. And my sister would be right to hate me for it.

“It is… it is nothing you can do anything about,” he said with a grimace. “Work related. That is all. It will fix itself soon enough.”

“Work related…” She frowned. “What is it? It is money?”

“What? No. Nothing like that.”

“A matter in Parliament?”

He shook his head. “Forget it, Rosalind. As I said, it is nothing –”

“Is it to do with Lord Blackwood?”

Gerald stiffened, for he hated his sister speaking of Victor. “No,” he growled. “Nothing to do with him. Of that, I promise you.”

She took note of his reaction, which perhaps was why she ventured her next question. “I heard a rumor of him, you know. Something I was certain to be a lie but…” She considered and then nodded as a means to show her bravery. “But I am wondering now if there is some truth behind it.”

“What…” His pulse quickened in warning. “What did you hear? Whatever it is, I am sure to is a lie.”

“I would hope so,” she said. “For I know you would have nothing to do with him, if it was true. But…” She bit into her lip. “But I have heard from others – a few people, as it is. That he is involved in… in…” Still, she could not bring herself to say it.

Gerald knew where this was going. From how nervous she was behaving, to the fact he could guess well enough at what unsavory activities she had heard people saying of Victor. Which was why he should have taken the opportunity to dismiss her before she voiced it. To shut it down and cover himself, because once it was spoken of, there was only one place for it to go. He knew he needed to stop her…

… and yet, as Gerald was feeling, he simply could not bring himself to say anything. He was just so tired of it all. Tired of the lies. Tired of pretending he was somebody who he wasn’t. Tired of his sister looking up to him when she should have been looking down. It is exactly what I deserve.

There was but one person in this world who knew the true Gerald, and she had not judge him. Dammit, she had liked him all the better for it. Would his sister be the same? He doubted it… but he felt too that she had a right to know. No more lies.

“Say it,” he said, resolved now to the truth.

She straightened up and looked at Gerald with a sense of accusation, that she knew the truth, just as she suspected his involvement. “That he is involved in one of those gaming houses located throughout London. The same which Aurelia’s family was indebted to.”

“Is that what you have heard?”

“Not just involved, that he runs one of them, Gerald.” She bit into her lip, struggling to finish her thought. There was pain behind her eyes, withheld because even now she could not believe what she was about to suggest. “And he is your friend, Gerald. You know him better than anybody.”

“What are you saying, Rosalind? Do not speak around the point.”

“Did you know,” she asked flatly, her tone turned sharp. “Did you know that he was involved?”

“And if I did?”

She leaned back, her lip curling with disgust. “You… you did? How could you, Gerald? How could you be friends with someone like that? ” Her eyes held him, searching for an answer which he was not willing to give. And Gerald did not respond, looking upon his sister with an open expression, his heart laid bare, the truth there for her to see, if she wished it. “Oh no…” It struck her in that moment. “Gerald, do not… surely that is not…”

“I am so sorry, Rosalind. You have no idea how –”

“It was you!” she cried suddenly as the pieces fell into place. “Aurelia! Her family… the reason that… that… that is why you and she have grown so close! You are the one to whom she owes money!”

Her voice cut him sharper and deeper than any blade. He winced and leaned away, shame crashing down on him, guilt because his sister looked upon him in a way that she never had before. In that moment, he was no longer her older brother. He was a stranger, and she loathed him because of it.

“It is not that simple, Rosalind,” he said pitifully. “If you will just let me explain.”

“Explain!” She took a step back. “How could you possibly… after everything you have said about Aurelia. How you judged her. How you judge everybody!”

“It is not that simple.”

“You blackmailed her,” she hissed. “You forced her to… to… her debts. You made her marry just so you would get paid!”

“I was wrong,” he tried. “I know that now.”

“Oh, now you do!” Another step back. “Now you admit fault, once you have been discovered. And what, I am just supposed to forgive you?”

“What? No. This is not about forgiving me.”

“Good!” Another step back. “Because this is… Gerald.” She shook her head, still that look as if she did not know him. As if he was a rodent that had wandered into her home. “This is beyond anything I could have ever…” She scoffed, disgust dripping from her tongue. “I do not even know who you are.” And with that, she turned and stormed away.

Gerald watched her go, his heart sinking, his sense of worth crashing and shattering on the floor. His entire life, all he had done, he had done for his sister. He had wanted to be someone who she could look up to, who she could admire. Dammit, he had wanted her to have a perfect life because he’d never had one himself. And now, in an instant, he had ruined everything.

He thought to leave it at that. To let her cool down so that he might explain. But what could he explain? There was no justifying what he had done. He didn’t want to do such a thing. He had erred terribly, and he deserved her venom in full.

At best, he decided that he could tell her the truth. Once again, he was sick of the lies. He was sick of pretending that he was someone who he was not. He did not think that she would forgive him, but he hoped that she might at least understand why he had done it. Rosalind deserved that, at the very least.

It’s time she learns everything. And once she does, then she can decide how she feels about me. At least that will be one less lie I need to live with…

Gerald found Rosalind in her room, curled up on her bed, back facing the door. The door was open, but the room was dark, that sense that she half wanted him to walk on by and half wanted him to come in and speak with her.

“Rosalind…” he spoke from the doorway.

“Go away,” she said, sniffing back her tears. “I don’t want to speak with you.”

“I can’t blame you for that,” he said. “If I were you, I likely wouldn’t want to speak with me ever again.”

To that, there was no answer, just the muffled sounds of her sobs. It broke Gerald’s heart to hear, but it told him that he couldn’t just leave her. What he had to say might not make her feel better, but at least it would provide closure. With all he had been through lately, that was perhaps the best he could hope for.

“You’re likely too young to remember this,” he began softly. “But our father –”

“Don’t blame our father,” she said over him, still refusing to turn around. “He didn’t make you do anything.”

“I’m not blaming him…” Gerald started gently into the room, careful not to approach too quickly. “I just want you to understand why I did what I did.”

“So I can forgive you?”

“No,” he said truthfully. “I don’t want you to forgive me. I don’t deserve that.”

She hesitated, sniffing again. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not, Rosalind…” He reached the bed but didn’t sit. “I’ve lied to you, about so many things. All I want to do now is tell you the truth. What you choose to do with that is up to you.”

He waited for her to respond, expecting a rebuke. Rather, she sniffed but said nothing, which he took as her accepting his offer.

“You were too young to remember our father,” he started again, careful not to sound as if he was trying to shift the blame. “In some ways, I am grateful for that. Where I won’t deny how much we owe him, myself especially, he was not the center of morality and propriety I like to pretend. He was a gambling addict, Rosalind. And it wasn’t until after he died that I learned the true depths of just how far he had sunk in his final years.”

Rosalind shifted slightly and he waited for her to speak, but she said nothing. Still, he noticed her relaxing slightly as she accepted his words.

“We were in debt,” he continued, sitting now on the end of Rosalind’s bed but careful not to touch her. “A debt which I couldn’t possibly cover myself – not with what our father left us. To help free ourselves from this debt…” He grimaced. “I was forced to work with some men whom it is no exaggeration to say are the scourge of London’s soul. Debt collectors, mostly. The type of men who care only for money, with no regard for how their actions ruin the lives of those who owe it.” He sighed and shook his head to himself as memories of the things he was forced to do came back to him. Actions which shamed him, even to this day. “I suppose working with them is why I try so hard now to be what I am – as if I need to prove that the version of me during those years wasn’t my true self.”

“And is it?” Rosalind asked, a slight bite to her tone.

“Of course not.”

“Yet you still work for them…”

“They work for me,” he said. “I managed to work my way out of debt, and then I bought the same gaming house to which I had been indebted. You might be wondering why I did it…” He trailed off as he remembered that moment for what it was, a thinly veiled excuse to do something good, knowing that in reality it was done to shield himself and his family. “I told myself it was to protect people. Absurd, I know,” he scoffed. “That if I was in control I might be able to stop the terrible things from happening.”

“And did you…” She sniffed.

“No,” he said truthfully. “There was no stopping it. Where money is involved, the worst always comes out. In myself included. It wasn’t until much later that I was ready to admit that my true reason for buying that gaming house was to protect myself, not others. And I hated myself for it…” Slowly, he reached out, resting a hand on Rosalind’s leg. She did not pull away, which he took as a good sign. “I still do hate myself for it.”

“Then why?” Rosalind sat up suddenly and turned around. Her eyes were stained red. Her cheeks too, coated in tears and still dripping. She wasn’t angry, he could see that now. Rather, she was disappointed, which stung even worse. “Why do you still do it? Why not… not sell it? Give it away?”

“It’s not that simple.”

“It is!” she cried. “For my entire life, Gerald, you have pretended to be this… this bastion of goodness. The perfect son, an emblem of what it means to be a member of the peerage. Everywhere we go, people look up to you. They respect you. But it is all a lie!”

“I know.”

“And what of me?” she hissed. “I am the same. Even those times where I hated how you forced me to act, I did so, knowing that you would do the same were you in my shoes. All I ever wanted…” She sniffed, and her chin began to wobble. “Was for you to think that I was worthy of you and your love.”

“You are, Rosalind,” he said, shuffling closer. “Of course you are. Don’t ever think otherwise.”

“Does it matter?” she shot back. “If you are not what you say. Is everything a lie?”

He bowed his head with shame. “I have lived two lives, Rosalind. And it is only now that I am coming to terms with that. How I have treated you, how you see me…” He fixed her with a determined look. “That was never a lie. It is the other side of me which is.”

“But is it? Or is this the lie and that is the real you?”

He winced, because even he could not say. He wanted to believe that he was good and righteous and someone worth looking up to. But how can I want such a thing when my actions are not worthy of this? “I don’t know…” His voice dropped and he kept his head bowed. “Is that what you want to hear? That I don’t even know who I am anymore or what I want.”

“Are you happy?” Rosalind asked, a question which caught him by surprise.

“Wh… what?” He looked up to find her watching him; her brow was furrowed, her eyes were wide, and the look she held was filled with pain.

“Are you happy?” she asked again. “The gaming house? Or this version of you? Which one makes you the happiest?”

“I…” Gerald hesitated as he considered the question, only to crash when the answer came to him. “Neither,” he admitted, for what was the first time. “Neither make me happy. And that is the truth.”

“Gerald…” She sniffed and shuffled closer. He moved to her, taking her hands which she pulled into her chest. “I do not hate you for your lies, I need you to know that.”

“You have every right to.”

“No.” She shook her head. “What I hate is to think that after everything you have done, even the lies, you still cannot find happiness. That is sadder than anything. Why bother pretending to be someone else if you do not wish to?”

“Because it is the right thing to do.”

“Is it?” she pressed on him. “Says who? Why is this version more right than the other? Why does either matter if you hate yourself for it.”

“I…” He searched her eyes as if for the answer, unable to find one because there was no answer that would satisfy. “I do it because…. Because I have no choice.”

“But you do, Gerald. That is what I am saying. Do not act this way or that way because you think you must. For me. For society. For… I do not even know why! You are my brother, and I can see how unhappy you are. And not just these past two weeks – even if they have been the worst of it. For years now, I have seen how sad you are, how miserable.” She squeezed his hands and smiled. “I know why now, I just wish that you would admit it to yourself.”

“And then what?” he asked sullenly, defeat creeping into him. “If I am not this man, your brother. What am I? What is there for me beyond this world?”

Her smile grew and she continued to squeeze his hands. “Isn’t that the beauty of it? That you get to decide for yourself. That you get to choose what it is that makes you happy, and when you do, fight for it because at the end of the day, that is all which matters.”

“What… what makes me happy….” He said the words as if he didn’t understand them, as if he was hearing them for the first time. A concept that has been alien to me for as long as I can remember.

“Whatever it is,” she pressed on him. “No matter what.” And then she hugged him. Arms wrapping about his neck and pulling him into a hug which seemed to push away the weight that was sitting on Gerald’s shoulders, sheltering him from that expectation, giving him strength which he had not even known that he needed.

More than that, it was permission given that he felt in his sister’s hug. She had forgiven him for what he had done, when she did not need to. She wanted only the best for him. After all he had done, all the lies he told, she still loved him. It was more than he deserved.

The question thus became, what was it that made Gerald happy? If he could have anything in this world, what would it be? One thought came to mind instantly. It surprised him, even if it should not have. It made him smile, his pulse rising, his sense of frustration and sadness and pity washing away as he considered what it meant.

Is it too late? Or is my sister right? If that is what will make me happy, perhaps fighting for it, despite the cost, is all which matters? For if I do not… it will be another life led that is not of my choosing, yet another lie I will be forced to swallow. And I am just about sick of all these lies.

He knew what he had to do. It was so clear now that he could not believe he had taken this long. Gerald just had to hope that he wasn’t too late.