Page 29 of Daring with a Duke (The Jennings Family #2)

29

Ash

A sh had an uneasy feeling today was going to be a bad day. A day starting off with him slipping out of Felicity’s bed and sneaking back to his room, never to hold her or touch her again, was guaranteed to be a depressing day.

So, he shouldn’t have been surprised when he tip-toed into his bedchamber only to come face to face with his smirking valet.

“Why, hullo, Ash,” Sam said, swinging his pocket watch around in a circle as he leaned nonchalantly against Ash’s four-poster bed.

Ash glared at his friend through the low light peeking through the curtains of his chambers, which only made Sam break out in a fit of laughter.

“Rumor has it Lady Felicity isn’t betrothed to Lord Wessex any longer. Would that have anything to do with you sneaking back into your room at the arse-crack of dawn practically glowing from what I can only presume is post-orgasmic bliss?”

“I am not glowing,” Ash bit out, heat infusing his cheeks. So much for being discreet and keeping last night between him and Felicity.

“I would just like to say I am very proud of you. I wasn’t sure how many more schemes Barrow and I could devise to push the two of you together until you finally woke up and realized you should end that bloody betrothal and take her for yourself. Couldn’t exactly say the roads were impassible any longer now that Colborn decided to show up.”

Ash thrust his finger at Sam. “I knew you were up to no good as soon as you offered to play the pianoforte for our waltz. I swear, you’re worse than the mamas of the ton.”

Sam pursed his lips and nodded thoughtfully. “You know, I think I’d take that as a compliment if I didn’t hate the ton so much.”

Ash growled. Insufferable best friends. “And you have this all wrong. I am not taking her for myself. She is not something to take, Sam. She is a person. I had to explain that to Colborn yesterday, and apparently you need a lesson on the fact that women are people, too.” He turned and made his way to his bathing chamber. “Why does no one see that?” he muttered.

“Because we live in a world that is nearly devoid of decency?” Sam shot back, bitterness sharp in his tone.

Ash spun and eyed his friend. Sam’s genial grin was firmly back in place. But it was a little too stiff. A little too wide. His friend knew better than anyone the truth of his statement. Though it was rare that Sam let the ghosts of his past resurface.

“Poor choice of words on my part, Ash,” Sam said, pushing past Ash into the connecting chamber. “That’s not how I meant it, and you know I don’t agree with that way of thinking.”

Sam tossed a cloth to Ash, and Ash barely caught it before it hit him in the face.

“What I meant is you two are bloody perfect for each other,” Sam continued. “Your son is an arse-hat. I don’t know Lady Felicity well, but in the few days she’s been here, it’s been clear as clean country air that she deserved better. You know my opinion of the ton.” Sam’s jaw clenched, and his voice grew tight as he spoke through stiff lips, “She is a bloody rarity in a world of prejudice, arrogance, self-interest, and the flaunting of power. I would argue there are not many deserving of her.”

Silence, but for his friend’s slow exhale greeted Ash.

“But I know one man who is,” Sam said softly.

Ash’s eyes slammed shut, pain slicing through his heart. He spun to face his best friend, the destruction in his chest making his words come out harsh.

“Stop, Sam. She is not for me. Regardless of the fact that I let my restraint slip and allowed myself one night with her. Not only do you know why I most definitely do not deserve her, but I also cannot break off my son’s betrothal to marry the woman myself.” All the breath left him on an exhausted exhale. “It-it is just not done,” he said without inflection.

He couldn’t even deign to think those kinds of thoughts. To have her for himself? To marry her. No. No.

But his heart screamed yes. Yes!

Fuck, it was too wretchedly painful. Bury, bury, bury. Bury it all down.

Sam’s brows arched, and his eyes oozed skepticism. He crossed his large forearms over his chest. “I would like to demand a big fucking why not?”

Ash threw up his arms. “Because it would be a bloody scandal!”

“You’re a duke,” Sam pointed out like that solved everything. It actually did most times.

“Yes, so perhaps we wouldn’t be given the cut direct because of my title, and I most likely would be praised”—he waved a hand in front of his groin—“because I have a penis. But her friends and acquaintances would make themselves scarce. Only a brave few who were true friends would remain, if that. She’ll be whispered about at every turn, scorned, made into a spectacle. The only invitations we’ll receive are ones so that our scandal could be flaunted. Look who we invited, the harlot who bedded her fiancé’s father. ”

His head fell. Fuck. If word ever got out… Absolutely not. It wouldn’t.

Sam walked forward and clapped Ash on the shoulder. “You know what I think, mate? After the past few days observing her and getting to know her? She won’t give a bloody damn. But I’m not going to argue with you or try to convince you.”

Ash stared warily at his friend, unsure if there was a surprise attack coming. Sam never gave in that easily. And considering all the things he’d pulled thus far…

Sam smiled, as always easily able to read Ash’s mind. “I don’t need to, Ash. I’ve seen the way she is with you, the way she looks at you, the way you lost yourselves in each other during that waltz. It was once-in-a-lifetime shite.” He lifted his brows at Ash, so sure, so certain, that he was correct.

But Sam was being fanciful. He read one too many gothic novels. Life didn’t actually work that way. Not everyone got their happily ever afters. Where was Winnifred’s happily ever after? She had been saddled with Ash at the age of sixteen and had lived a miserable existence until Ash’s actions cut her life much too short. Why should he get that perfect dream-of-a-future when he had taken that away from someone else?

Sam squeezed his shoulder. “I don’t need to convince you because I know Lady Felicity will do the convincing herself.”

Ash turned away. The problem was, he thought he might agree with Sam. If he allowed Felicity enough time, she could probably convince him to do anything. But there was nothing keeping her here any longer. She was free of her unwanted betrothal. Once Pandora’s birthday was over, Felicity could go home. A hollowness burned its way through his stomach.

She would find some other gentleman, one who would treat her well, love her like she deserved, and live a happy life. The hollowness grew, like someone was carving a hole in his gut with a dull, rusted-over spoon. A happy Ash-free life.

He drew in a deep breath. That was exactly what Ash wanted. Truly. He was happy to torture himself with the memory of their night together for the rest of his days. It was enough, if she ended up with the future she deserved. It would be enough. He splashed water over his face and washed it all away. The hurt and the hopelessness and the heartbreak.

Sam helped Ash get ready for the day, fortunately letting the topic rest and moving on to discuss the activities planned for Pandora’s birthday. Eventually the melancholy lifted, forced away about excitement over celebrating with his daughter. He couldn’t wait to see her. His now fifteen-year-old daughter. Lord help him.

He was sure the day would only look up from here.