Page 39 of His Forsaken Duchess (Beastly Dukes #1)

Thirty-Eight

“ W ell, that’s done,” Belleville said, his voice carrying a note of relief as he stepped into the entrance hall of Haremore House. “Though I must say, your Duchess deserves all the credit. That arrow of hers? Remarkable.”

Cedric allowed a faint smile to tug at the corners of his lips as he shrugged off his coat. “She was extraordinary,” he admitted quietly.

The thought of Audrey standing so boldly in the field, commanding the Bow Street Runners and ensuring justice was served, warmed something deep within him.

“I owe her more than I can say.”

“You do, indeed,” Belleville agreed, handing his coat to a waiting Astor. “And I hope you plan to tell her as much.”

Cedric’s expression softened as he glanced toward the staircase. “I will,” he said firmly.

“Well, that’s a relief,” Belleville said with a smirk. “I was beginning to think that I’d have to force you to grovel at her feet. And let’s be honest, Haremore, you’re not designed for groveling.”

Cedric shot him a pointed look, though a flicker of amusement danced in his eyes. “It won’t come to that.”

“Won’t it?” Belleville teased. “We’ll see.”

Cedric didn’t reply. His mind was already on Audrey—on the words he would say, on the apology he would offer, on the promises he would make to ensure she would never doubt him again. He turned to the butler, who had just stepped into the hall.

“Astor,” he said briskly. “Where is the Duchess?”

Astor hesitated, his expression momentarily flickering with unease before he schooled it into calm neutrality. “Her Grace has not returned, Your Grace.”

The words struck Cedric like a physical blow. He stared at the butler, his chest tightening with disbelief. “She hasn’t returned?” he repeated slowly.

“No, Your Grace,” Astor said carefully. “Her belongings were packed and sent to her parents’ home earlier today. She informed the staff that she intends to stay there for the foreseeable future.”

Cedric felt the air leave his lungs, Astor’s words settling heavily over him. He turned away, his gaze sweeping over the quiet, empty hall. The house felt colder, lifeless, as though her absence had drained it of its very soul.

Belleville stepped closer, his expression unusually serious. “She’s gone, then?”

“She left,” Cedric said, his voice low. He put a hand on the banister, his grip tightening as he struggled to process the full implications of her departure. “She didn’t wait for me.”

He looked up the staircase. Memories of Audrey flooded his mind—the way she had looked at him with quiet hope, the way her voice had trembled when she’d asked him to reconsider the duel, the way she had walked away when he’d given her no reason to stay.

“Do you love her?” Belleville asked

Cedric’s chest tightened, his breath catching as the answer swelled within him, unsaid but undeniable.

Yes. He loved her with a depth and intensity that terrified him. And now he had lost her.

Belleville’s voice broke through his thoughts, quieter now. “If you do, then you know what you have to do.”

Cedric inhaled deeply, and his mind was made up before Belleville had even finished speaking.

He would do something. He had to.

“Another one,” Lilianna said brightly as their mother entered the drawing room, holding a box and a letter.

Audrey glanced up, unsurprised. She had grown used to the steady stream of notes and gifts since leaving Haremore House five days ago. Cedric Hall, the Duke of Haremore, was determined if nothing else.

“This time,” Grace said, setting the box on the table, “he’s sent pastries. From that bakery you like so much, Audrey.”

Lilianna lifted the lid before Audrey could respond, peering inside with a delighted grin. “Tarts! He must have done his research. I hope he never stops trying if it means more of these.”

Clarise leaned over, examining the delicacies. “He does seem to have excellent taste,” she admitted, plucking one of the tarts with a conspiratorial look.

“Enough,” Grace admonished, shaking her head. “This is absurd. Flowers, books, sweets—every surface is covered! I cannot stand it any longer.” She gestured toward the gifts scattered around the room. “Please, Audrey, talk to him. If only to stop this madness.”

Audrey sighed, setting her embroidery aside as her mother thrust the note into her hand. Cedric’s bold handwriting filled the page.

Audrey,

It has been five days since you left, and it feels like a lifetime. I know I deserve your anger, and I know I have much to make amends for. But please, allow me to see you. Walk with me, and let me show you how much you mean to me.

Yours,

Cedric.

Audrey stared at the note, her lips pressing into a thin line as her heart stirred.

What am I going to do with this man?

Sighing, she reached for a quill and inkpot, flipping the paper over. With brisk strokes, she wrote a single line beneath his signature:

Very well. Tomorrow at two o’clock.

The next afternoon, Cedric arrived at her parents’ house with a phaeton so polished that it gleamed in the sunlight. Audrey watched him dismount from the front steps, his movements swift and confident.

“Good afternoon, Audrey,” he said, offering her his hand.

There was a warmth in his gaze that made her hesitate, but she took his hand nonetheless.

“Good afternoon, Duke,” she replied, stepping into the phaeton.

His hand lingered a moment longer than necessary, and she could feel his eagerness to please.

As they set off toward the park, Cedric kept the reins steady, his focus divided between the road and her. “I chose this phaeton because I thought you’d like it. It’s from London’s finest coachmaker.”

“It is very fine,” Audrey acknowledged, her tone amused. “I didn’t know you had such a passion for phaetons.”

“I don’t,” Cedric admitted with a faint grin. “But I remembered you once said you liked the sleek ones. I thought it might impress you.”

She raised an eyebrow, though her lips twitched in reluctant amusement. “And what else have you remembered?”

“That you adore sugared tarts, prefer roses to lilies, and enjoy novels with heroines who challenge Society’s expectations,” he said, glancing at her with a smile. “Shall I continue?”

Audrey shook her head, suppressing a laugh. “You’ve certainly been thorough.”

“I had to,” Cedric said simply. “I’ve only just begun making up for lost time.”

They arrived at the park, and Cedric guided the phaeton to a quiet, shaded path. He dismounted quickly and came to her side, his hand extended to help her down. She accepted, noting the way his touch lingered again, his thumb lightly brushing against hers.

They walked in silence at first, the path winding through tall trees and flowering bushes. Audrey kept her hands clasped before her, her expression calm but watchful as Cedric matched her pace.

“Thank you for coming,” he said finally, his voice soft but steady.

“You’ve given me little choice,” she replied, glancing at him. “Your letters and gifts have left me no room to refuse.”

Cedric smiled faintly, undeterred. “Then I’ll take it as a victory. Small, perhaps, but a victory nonetheless.”

Audrey shook her head, her lips quirking up despite herself. “What is it you wish to say, Duke?”

He stopped, turning to face her. She stopped as well, her gaze steady as she waited.

“I know I’ve hurt you,” he began, his tone serious. “And I know I can’t undo what’s been done. But I need you to know that I meant what I said before. You are my future, Audrey. I see that now.”

She studied him, her expression unreadable. “It took you long enough.”

His lips quirked up briefly, but he sobered quickly. “I should have seen it from the start. It will take time for me to face the shadows of my past. But I can do it, Audrey. I know I can—especially with you by my side.”

Her chest tightened, and she fought the emotions his words stirred. “Go on.”

“You are brilliant and kind,” Cedric said, his voice softening. “You challenge me, see through me, and make me hope for a better future. I love you, Audrey. I love everything about you.”

Audrey’s breath hitched, and she looked away, trying to regain her composure.

“Let me court you,” he added, his hand brushing against hers. “The way I should have from the start. Let me prove to you that I mean every word.”

She hesitated, his words pushing against her carefully constructed defenses. For a long moment, she said nothing. Then, finally, she nodded.

“All right,” she said quietly. “But only because I’d like to know what else you’ve remembered.”

Relief and joy flashed across Cedric’s face, his smile so genuine it took her breath away. “You won’t regret it.”

“I should hope not,” she replied lightly, though her voice trembled slightly.

Before she could say more, Cedric leaned in and pressed a soft, tentative kiss to her lips. Her breath caught, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned into him, her hands finding his as the kiss deepened, and a quiet promise passed between them.

When they finally broke apart, Audrey’s cheeks flushed, and Cedric’s eyes held a warmth that made her heart race.

“Thank you, princess,” he murmured.

“Don’t call me that!” She laughed.