Page 35 of A Virgin for the Duke of Scars (Ton’s Beasts #1)

T heresa woke up the following morning with swollen eyes and a sore throat from screaming into her pillow. The night had passed slowly and painfully, each minute bringing her closer to the moment she would leave Blackwell Manor.

Each minute brought her closer to the moment she would see her husband for the last time. She knew that if she left the manor now, she might never return. Her new life would be over just as soon as it had begun.

Certainly, she would gain a mother and father. A sister. But she would also lose a husband.

She had already lost her old life at the convent. There was no chance she could go back there and take her vows now that they had consummated their marriage.

Her heart felt like it was breaking in half at the very thought of leaving all of this behind. She felt hollow inside.

How could she be so heartbroken if Aaron did not even reciprocate her feelings? How could he keep shutting her out despite everything they had done?

However, she could not dwell on the matter this morning. She had a duty to Juliette and the Dowager Duchess. She would not leave without bidding them a proper goodbye. And she was hungrier than she had thought she would be, having skipped dinner the night before.

When the maid knocked to see if she needed assistance getting ready for the day, Theresa invited her in.

The maid helped her out of the gown she had fallen asleep in. Theresa then donned a fresh day dress, and the maid pinned her hair into a chignon at the back of her head.

When she looked in the mirror, she avoided her own eyes, lest they betray her emotions. She could see only herself the night Aaron undressed her in front of that same mirror.

A blush crept up her chest to her neck, before she looked away from the mirror and plastered on a smile.

“I believe I am wanted at the breakfast table, Emma,” she said, before dismissing the maid.

She needed a moment to herself before she had to face her sister-in-law and the Dowager Duchess. She took a deep breath, as deep as she could with her tight corset.

This was the best she was going to do this morning, she decided. It was time to face the family she had grown to care for.

She stepped out of her room and slowly made her way to the breakfast room.

The two ladies were already seated at the table, Juliette sipping her tea while the Dowager Duchess spread butter on her toast. Her eyes immediately strayed to the empty chair at the head. Aaron skipped so many meals that it had not crossed her mind to find him there.

Juliette offered a tentative smile as Theresa took the seat across from her. The Dowager Duchess studied her carefully before giving her a tight smile, one that did not reach her eyes.

Theresa realized that both women already knew, or at the very least suspected, what had happened at the party.

Their absence from the event would not have gone unnoticed.

Coupled with her husband holed up once more in his tower, Theresa thought they could not have been any more obvious about their predicament.

“My husband is not going to join us,” Theresa rasped.

It was more of a question than a statement. She needed to brace herself if the other ladies thought he would join them at the table.

“He will not be joining us,” Juliette said softly.

Theresa felt both relief and overwhelming sadness. This was her last meal at Blackwell Manor, and she would not see her husband. She would not ask him to come see her off.

She would disappear from his life just as quietly as she had come.

Instead of saying anything, she looked down at the plate in front of her and dug into the strawberry pastry she had tasted on her first day exploring Blackwell Manor.

Since learning it was her favorite, the chef put it into heavy rotation.

But today, it did not bring her comfort.

She would miss so many things about the manor, the cook’s specialties included.

“Do you wish to know why he is not joining us?”

Theresa raised her eyes to meet the Dowager Duchess’s gaze. She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and set down her fork. Whatever they had to say to her, she would hear it and hold back her tears until she was alone once more.

“Why is he not joining us?” She asked in a shaky voice.

“He went out to escort Lady Isabella and her father to the Congregation of St. Agatha, where she will take her vows,” Juliette replied.

Theresa felt her heart stutter in her chest. The revelation sank into her gut like a rock in water.

Lady Isabella would live the life that she herself had been destined for just months ago. How could Aaron let the woman he loved live in a place like that?

Theresa was positive that Lady Isabella would incur Mother Superior’s wrath. She winced at the thought of the scars that crisscrossed her back.

Lady Isabella would be just as ruined as she was. After her charmed life in London, she might never adjust to the harsh life of a nun.

“Good for them,” she forced out. “I hope she finds peace there. Because I have completely lost mine.”

“People in love always do,” Juliette murmured.

Theresa stared at her, not sure what to make of that. She had thought as much in the privacy of her chambers last night. Why else would she cry so much over a man who did not care for her, if not for love?

But she could not possibly love someone who did not love her back.

“I am not in love with your brother,” she finally said. “I could never love someone who refuses to let me in.”

“I know he is difficult to love—” Juliette started.

“He is not difficult to love,” Theresa cut her off. “He is downright impossible .”

“He has been through more than you can imagine,” the Dowager Duchess interjected. “Do you think that it was easy for him to break off his betrothal? To live through the horrors of war?”

“I do not presume to know what it was like for him,” Theresa said quietly. “He has not let me in enough to know what he feels. All I know is that he is in love with someone else.”

“You are mistaken, my dear.”

“It is obvious to everyone in the ton that he and Lady Isabella would have made a better match,” she insisted.

“She was not what he needed. He needed someone who was not wrapped up in the high life. He needed you .”

“He did not need me,” Theresa scoffed, rising from the table.

She could not bear to hear anything more about what Aaron might feel for her. Not if he could not show it to her.

Not if he could not take off his mask and let her in.

“You will have to excuse me,” she said. “I must prepare to take my leave to visit my family today.”

She hurried out of the breakfast room, just as her tears spilled over. Once she was out of view and knew no one could see her, she hiked up her skirts and ran to her rooms.

She collapsed into the armchair by the fireplace and buried her face in her hands.

She would not be able to get through the day if she broke down in tears every moment someone said something she did not like. She would need to toughen up and stop giving in to emotion. She was a duchess, after all.

As a duchess, she commanded power. She was expected to hold herself together, no matter the circumstances.

Not wanting to dissolve into more tears, she took a deep breath and sat up. She wiped her face with the sleeve of her gown and rolled back her shoulders.

No more of that now.

She turned her attention to the packed trunk. With a calm that did not betray her inner turmoil, she put in the last few items she had forgotten the night before. A couple of nightgowns and a silver mirror she favored.

As she was putting the last items in the trunk, she heard a small meow. She turned around to find her kitten stretching out in the corner of the room. She had not noticed him until now. He must have been sleeping when she came in.

She walked over to him and bent down to pet him.

“I will miss you, Ashball,” she said quietly, scratching behind his ears.

Suddenly, something colorful caught her attention. She looked beyond the kitten to see a canvas propped up against the wall.

She recognized Aaron’s work as soon as she saw it, even though it was different from his usual paintings.

This was not an angry painting. No reds and blacks that showed the war raging within him.

No, this was a sweet painting, rendered in colors Theresa herself might have used. It was a picture of her kitten lounging in front of a fireplace, which she recognized as the one in the tower.

She understood that this was a peace offering. Aaron was changing, but not fast enough for her liking.

She sat in front of the painting, bursting into tears when she thought of his hands making this picture. She wanted to believe that he would come around in time, but she could not wait. For them to have a marriage, he needed to trust her now.

But that was simply beyond the realm of possibility. Aaron had made that much clear to her last night, and every other night they had spent together. Even her fondest memories of him were tainted by his mask and his refusal to show her what lay beneath it.

Theresa stood up and wiped her cheeks. She picked up the kitten and cradled him against her chest, where she could feel his heat and his heartbeat next to her own.

“Emma,” she called.

The maid appeared in seconds, as if she had been waiting for a summons.

“Please have my things loaded into the carriage. I will take my leave soon.”

Emma looked forlorn at the reality of her imminent departure.

Her shoulders slumped, and she moved slowly around the room.

If she had to take her leave of the Duchess, she would do so, but she would not be happy about it.

She said nothing, only nodded her head and scurried off to carry out her orders.

Theresa made her way back down the stairs to the sitting room, where she hoped to find Juliette and the Dowager Duchess. She would not leave them without a proper goodbye, even as pressed for time as she was. It would be better for everyone if she left before Aaron returned.

The Dowager Duchess was seated on the sofa, holding a needlepoint in her hands. She barely looked up when Theresa entered the room.

“Grandmama,” Theresa said, realizing for the first time that she did indeed think of the Dowager Duchess as her own grandmother. “I will be taking my leave soon. Do you know where I might find Juliette?”

The Dowager Duchess beckoned to the maid standing in the corner of the room. “Please have Lady Juliette meet us at the stables posthaste,” she instructed.

Then, she rose from the sofa and set her needlepoint aside.

“My dear, you do not have to go,” she said. “Even in a marriage like yours, there are ways to work things out. Arranged marriages are complicated, and my grandson even more so.”

“I cannot stay where I am not wanted.”

“You are wanted more than you know,” the Dowager Duchess assured. “You can’t see how much you have changed him, but I can.”

Theresa said nothing; the words would not come to her. She took the Dowager Duchess’s arm and led her through the gardens until they reached the stables, where a carriage awaited.

“I appreciate you taking the time to teach me decorum and etiquette,” Theresa said, turning to face her. A traitorous tear rolled down her cheek, and she dashed it away. “Nobody else would have made learning to curtsy so much fun.”

“You are a delight to teach. It was my pleasure to do it, but you still have so much more to learn.”

Theresa nodded. The Dowager Duchess was right, but she would have to keep learning from her sister, her parents. The very same people who had banished her at birth.

She only hoped she would not embarrass them, just as she had once hoped not to embarrass Aaron’s family.

Juliette came running through the gardens at that moment and threw her arms around Theresa in an uncharacteristic display of affection.

“Please do not leave us like this,” she begged. “You are the first sister I have ever had, and I will miss you terribly.”

“I must go meet my sister,” Theresa said, hugging her back as tightly as her gown would allow. “I will not forget you. You have made this experience more bearable.”

“Please come ba?—”

“Theresa,” a commanding voice interrupted.

Theresa did not need to turn around to see who dared to interrupt such a moment. But she turned around anyway to look at her husband one last time.

Part of her wished that he was not wearing his mask, giving her exactly what she needed to stay with him. But a bigger part of her knew that it was a futile hope. If he could not trust her in the privacy of her chambers, then he would not remove his mask in front of everyone.

“What can I do for you, husband?” She asked, with more resolve in her voice than she thought possible. “I am about to take my leave, as you can see. Did you come to see me off?”

“No, I came to stop you.”