Page 32 of A Virgin for the Duke of Scars (Ton’s Beasts #1)

A aron stared as Theresa wove her way through the crowd to thank Lady Sophia for a lovely evening. And the truth was that it was a lovely evening, though it had nothing to do with the party.

This evening had been nearly perfect, and he had managed to ruin it.

He watched as Theresa approached their hostess with a curtsy. The more she practiced, the more graceful she became. He remembered the night he found her practicing in front of the mirror in her room. What progress she had made in fitting into high society.

As she said her goodbyes to Lady Sophia, he moved toward the back door that led to the stables. He wanted to get his wife alone as soon as possible to try to fix the mistakes he had made.

He wove through the crowd with a stern expression on his face to discourage people from stopping him for conversation.

Not for the first time, Aaron was grateful that people deemed him beastly. It would keep them from stopping him when he was in such a hurry to leave the people of the ton behind.

Morgan made a move to stop him and inquire about something, but Aaron held up a hand and kept moving. Maybe that was why it took him a few moments to register the hand that had landed on his arm.

His instinct was to shrug it off and keep moving without even looking back. But he was surprised at the touch. Very few people would dare touch him, as beastly as he was.

Reluctantly, he turned around.

The first thing he noticed was the blonde hair falling around the delicate shoulders. A dress so tight that it seemed almost indecent. A face that he could still see in his nightmares, retching in the hall outside his bedroom.

Isabella.

“Now is not the time,” he growled. “What more could you possibly wish to ruin this evening?”

“We have not had an opportunity to speak tonight. Nor did we have the opportunity to speak at the garden party last week.”

“Did you not think that it was perhaps intentional that we did not speak on either occasion?”

“I have not had a chance to speak to you since your wedding. I have to express my deepest condolences.” She gave him a demure smile, as if they were sharing a private joke.

Aaron did not think anything about his wedding was worth joking about. Especially not tonight, when he had just consummated his marriage.

Instead of rising to the bait, he stayed quiet and stared back at her.

Isabella hesitated for a moment, her smile wavering. But then she straightened up and squared her shoulders.

“Marrying a nun must be an experience , ” she drawled. “You deserve so much more than a woman like that can offer you.”

“And you believe that you could have offered me more?” Aaron scoffed. “Let me be clear. Even if you say I deserve more, you deserve nothing . You were ruined the moment you dared to look at my wife.”

Isabella opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. She clenched her jaw, trying to look dignified in the face of his cutting remarks.

Aaron had no more patience for her or the games she wanted to play.

“If you come near my wife again, it will be the last thing you do.”

“Your Grace, you misunderstand me,” Isabella said, a slight quiver in her voice. “I only mean that you and I were a much better match.”

“There is no misunderstanding here. Theresa is twice the woman you will ever be.” Aaron stood straighter at the mention of his wife.

He was still staring back at Isabella when her father, Earl Ashton, approached them from the side. The old man’s appearance defused the situation, but the tension lingered, crackling in the air.

“Your Grace,” the Earl greeted with a slight bow. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your company this evening?”

He looked at his daughter with narrowed eyes. If he knew what she had said to Aaron or the trouble she intended to cause, he said not a word.

Aaron pinned the Earl with the same scathing look. “Your daughter has overstepped her boundaries,” he bit out. “I am here to make you an offer. You will send your daughter away within the week. If she is still here, I will make sure that she can never show her face in public again.”

He drew himself up to his full height, took a deep breath, and puffed up his chest.

The Earl looked at him with the same expression on Isabella’s face. The pair looked so similar that he almost laughed at how handsome Isabella looked.

“Now, if you would excuse me, I must find my wife.”

With that, Aaron pushed his way through the crowd to get to the back door. He never looked over his shoulder, but he could feel their eyes drilling holes into his back.

Isabella had caused this rift between him and Theresa. The only way he could ensure that she never interfered in his life again was if she disappeared from the ton once and for all.

He should have done it when their betrothal ended.

Regret filled him; he had taken great care to protect her reputation after they parted ways. Perhaps it would have been better if he had demanded that she leave London then.

Before Theresa arrived. Before he got to know her and developed feelings for her.

Now that he had been around her and her innocence, he could no longer go back to life as he knew it. He could not spend his days getting foxed alone in his tower. He could not drown his feelings in red and black paint.

Everything he did was colored by Theresa and her affection for him. He thought about the day he returned to the lake and painted her half-naked form in his bed—the first time he had painted something other than violence. She had completely changed his worldview.

By the time he made it out of the house, she was already in the stables, waiting for the carriage to be brought around. Aaron stood at her side, but she said nothing to him. He felt her stiffen when she sensed his presence.

There was no hint of affection between them.

Aaron hoped that he had not ruined his marriage this evening, as perfect as it had been for him.

The carriage pulled in front of them, and he offered her his hand. Theresa took it somewhat reluctantly and quickly climbed into the back of the carriage. He followed and sat beside her.

“Will we discuss what happened tonight?” He asked, hopeful that he could smooth over whatever was brewing between them.

“I do not think there is anything to say,” she muttered, slumping into her seat so that she would be as far from him as possible.

Recognizing that she would say no more on the matter, Aaron fell silent. She would come around, eventually. Surely, she would remember what they had shared in that library and realize the truth—that he was falling in love with her.

She had accused him of loving Isabella. His first mistake was that he had underestimated Isabella’s cunning. He should have sent her away the first time she had accosted Theresa at the garden party. She had caused his wife to question him with her snide remarks.

That night, too, had ended with Aaron and Theresa sharing an intimate moment. Aaron had felt certain that he could smooth things over by showing Theresa how he felt for her.

But Isabella had taken things too far this time.

Now, Aaron was no longer certain that he could live without Theresa in his life. She was the bright spot in his day, the one thing that kept him from holing up in his tower.

The problem was that he was no longer sure it was up to him to decide what she would do with her days. Had he ruined the one good thing in his life by refusing to reveal his true self?

He did not know if he could bear to live separately from her under the same roof. When they wed, she had demanded that they spend time together daily. Would she want to uphold that rule, now that she knew exactly how beastly he could be?

He had a feeling that she would not want to spend time with him, which would create a void in his days.

He was still mulling over the shift in their relationship when the carriage approached Blackwell Manor. Theresa said nothing as they pulled to a stop in the stables. She stepped out of the carriage without assistance and hurried through the gardens without a backward glance.

For a moment, Aaron stared at her retreating figure before springing into action. He caught the door behind her, making sure to give her room to move around him if she desired. But despite the opportunity, she never turned around to say a word to him.

Instead, she scooped up the kitten from the small bench it had been lounging on, cradled it against her chest, and made for the stairs to her chambers.

Aaron hoped that they would be able to speak there.

He followed her up the stairs and to her chambers, but as soon as she let herself inside, she shut the door in his face. He heard the key turn in the lock and realized she would say no more to him.

Not sure what else to do, he stood outside her door for a while. He placed his hand on the wood, hoping that she would sense his presence, that she would unlock the door for him.

“Theresa,” he called through the door. He could not bear for them to part on these terms. Aaron wanted to show her that he was here for her, to set the record straight on what they had shared.

They had finally shared the intimacy he had been craving, but he could not imagine leaving things like this. Theresa could not possibly be left to think that he would rather have had Lady Isabella in his arms tonight. What they shared in that library was entirely their own.

She simply had to know that he was hers and hers alone.

“Theresa, please open the door,” he begged, knocking on the wooden frame.

He could hear her slamming things down inside her rooms. She must be trying to make her way out of her gown, undoing the braids in her hair, and getting ready to retire for the evening. Aaron would have done anything to be in there with her, to share a bed with her for the first time.

This was not how their lovemaking was supposed to end.

He lost track of how long he stood there, but he eventually realized that he would not resolve this tonight.

Aaron returned to the stables to send the carriage back to Juliette and his grandmother. He paused in the gardens, sucking in a lungful of the cold night air in a bid to ease the dread coiling in his gut, but the only thing he wanted to do was head to his tower.

Once there, he poured himself a glass of whiskey and started to undress for bed. He wanted to fall into unconsciousness, to dream of Theresa and forget the rift that had grown between them.

Surely, things would look different in the morning.