Page 22 of His Graceful Duchess (A Lady’s Vow #3)

CHAPTER 22

“ I s the Duchess taking her breakfast in her chambers again this morning?” Evan asked the butler, who passed him a sympathetic smile before nodding.

“I am afraid so, Your Grace.”

Even the house staff had noticed the tension between the couple. It had been days since they had last spoken—after she had dropped the revelation of a lifetime to him.

An heir. She wanted one.

Ambrose had been correct in his prediction—the closer they got, the more she would want from him. But now it was too late to diminish the feelings that he had for her. They were close, but he would never be able to give her the thing that she wanted most.

At first, Evan had decided to keep himself busy with work so as not to think about the matter altogether. But it had quickly became clear to him that there was no running away from this. She had occupied his mind constantly.

“This is getting ridiculous,” he mumbled to himself, looking at the empty seat that Isadora was meant to occupy. It was childish for them to ignore one another like this.

The silence was eating him alive.

And so, he decided to finally put his foot down and put an end to the madness. Evan left the breakfast table and made his way upstairs. It did not take him long to find her, for she was exactly where he had expected her to be.

Cooped up in a dingy corner of the library, her nose buried in a book.

“Isadora,” Evan announced loudly as he made his way towards her. She did not look up—instead, she began to read with even more focus, as though she had not even heard him.

“You have decided to punish me with silence, then?” He moved even closer. Seeing her after several days invoked a strange sort of feeling inside of him, and all that he wished to do was hold her in his arms.

But Isadora remained nonplussed. She gave no response. She merely turned a page, as though he was nothing more than a fly buzzing around her ear.

Evan sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Very well,” he drawled. “I shall just have to speak enough for the both of us.” He leaned against the side of the bookshelf nearest to her, his arms crossed over his chest.

“I have decided that I do not like this arrangement, sweetheart,” he said flatly. “That would be putting it lightly even. I’ve decided I quite loathe it.”

That seemed to get her attention. She peeked at him from behind her book. “Unfortunate to hear that, Your Grace, but you’re the one who’s brought it on yourself.

Your Grace. Never before had those words—meant to be a sign of utmost respect—felt more like an insult.

“Will you put that damned book down already?” He moved to remove the book from her hands, but she dodged him just in time.

“No,” came the reply. “I am quite interested to know what is happening in it, and I do not wish to talk to you, so this whole exercise is quite pointless.”

“It is more interesting to you than talking to your husband?” He was hovering over her now. “Really? That lifeless ink-stained collection of words is your preference over me?”

She held the book even higher. “At this moment, yes.”

Evan’s patience snapped. In one swift motion, he grabbed the book —and pulled it straight from her grasp.

“I beg your pardon!” she gasped, her hands flying up to stop him, but Evan had already stood up, stepping back just enough to keep the book out of her reach.

“Give that back,” she demanded, moving to stand.

He merely lifted the book higher, holding it above her head.

“Not until you look me in the eye and admit that this entire display is childish,” he said, “which for someone who wishes to have a child of her own is rather alarming if you ask me.”

“What other way do you wish for me to act, Evan?” she demanded, her eyes ablaze with frustration. “When you have rejected me so cruelly?”

“Is that what you got out of our conversation?” Evan’s jaw tightened. “I did not reject you.”

“That is precisely what you did—.” Isadora let out a humourless laugh. “—when you decided to never have children with me. For a woman, that is rejection in its worst form.”

Evan paused then, bringing the book back down and dropping it to the ground with a thud. His face darkened, and he retreated from her.

“Did it ever occur to you that perhaps the reasoning behind my rejection has nothing to do with you,” he swallowed, “and that I might have reasons of my own?”

Isadora’s expression softened, as if Evan had suddenly made her consider a possibility outside of her own feelings. She took a seat back at the table and composed herself.

“Fine then,” she started. “If you believe that I am being childish about this, then I shall be more mature, but you shall have to do the same.”

“I am being mature about this.” Evan shook his head and took a seat himself. It would do him some good, considering how heightened his blood pressure felt in that moment. “Perhaps I am the only person in this situation who is.”

“You say that, but you’ve left me entirely in the dark,” Isadora continued. “I do not even know why you are so vehemently opposed to the idea of us having a family. My friends’ husbands do not object to this—they are thrilled at the idea of a child. But you?—”

“Have you considered that I have not lived the same life that they have?” Evan challenged. His eyes were dark, not with anger but with something far heavier.

He disliked talking about his past more than anything in the world, but when Isadora was being like this, what other choice did he have?

“How am I meant to know when you have never told me?” Isadora swallowed, looking at him now with an expression that did not signal pity but rather a curiosity to know more.

Evan exhaled slowly, dragging a hand through his hair before finally meeting her gaze again.

“Very well,” he murmured. “Let me tell you about my father. He was a man who did not like being tied down. Mistresses, lovers—there were dozens. He was not one to proceed with caution.”

“He had many affairs?” Isadora asked, and Evan did not know what to make of her innocence.

“Affairs is putting it kindly, sweetheart,” he replied in a flat tone. “He had entanglements in the moment, and then he went on with his life, leaving the women he left behind to deal with the consequences. He was a rake and a scoundrel, through and through. A man of pleasures, vices, and selfish indulgences.”

She remained silent, letting him speak.

“My mother was not born into privilege like he was. She was a commoner,” he said, his voice quieter now, as though—even after all these years—he still felt the ghost of her loss. “He pursued her until he finally got her.”

“And then what happened?” Isadora’s voice shook as she spoke.

“What do you think?” Evan countered. “She fell in love with him, but to him, she was nothing more than another passing fancy. Something to entertain him for a while.”

A bitter smile curled at his lips. He tried his hardest not to think of these things, but even now, it made his blood boil whenever he did.

“But she had his child.”

“You see how children are not the solution to everything?” he replied, “My mother thought it might make him stay and that he might change, but that was nothing but a fool’s dream. When he found out about her pregnancy, he left her to fend for herself, carrying a child that he would never claim.”

Isadora gasped loudly, but Evan remained unfazed by her reaction. She was the one who wanted the truth after all.

“My mother raised me on her own,” he continued in a distant voice. “She worked herself to the bone to make sure I had food and shelter. We never really had much, but she made sure to make me feel wanted. I was eighteen when I lost her. The years of labour had finally worn her down.”

“Evan,” Isadora reached forward to touch him, “I am so terribly sorry?—”

“Oh, I’m not done yet, sweetheart.” He pulled away from her. “Even till the end, my mother remained loyal to that man—who had not so much as bothered to find out if she had been alive all those years. She never uttered a word against him, but I was smart enough to realize what kind of man he was. It is hard not to, you know, when your father is absent from your life.”

Isadora gasped again but did not interrupt this time. He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to stay composed.

“So, I hated him anyway,” Evan continued. “He never intended to recognize me. Had his beloved duchess given him a legitimate heir, he would have gone to his grave pretending I did not exist.”

“But she didn’t,” Isadora derived.

“No,” Evan shook his head. “She never bore him a child. And suddenly, when he had no one else, when his precious legacy was at risk of ending with him, he came looking for me. The bastard that he never wanted to claim. Convenient how that worked out.”

“Is that how you came into your title?”

“Oh no,” Evan explained. “I rejected his offer when he tried to buy my loyalty with promises of wealth and the power associated with his name .” His lips curled into something resembling disgust.

“Then, how did…?” Isadora blinked rapidly. “You are the Duke.”

“Not by choice,” he corrected her. “I had rejected him outrightly, told him that I wished to have nothing to do with him nor his cursed legacy, but in the end, it did not matter what I wanted.”

Her brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“The bastard went ahead with it anyway,” he muttered. “He had the legal proceedings started without my consent. When he died, I received a letter informing me that I was to be the next duke.”

“Did you try to refuse?” she asked softly.

“Of course. But he had made his will ironclad—the title was forced upon me, and if I did not take it, he had put in measures to make my life rather difficult.”

“So you did not ask for this life?” Isadora surmised. “It was forced upon you by a father you never knew?”

“You are correct.” He smiled bitterly. “Forced to carry on a legacy that I never wished for. But you see, I will be the one to have the last laugh because his bloodline ends with me.”

Isadora could only stare back at him blankly as she tried to comprehend what he had just said.

His bloodline ends with me.

It was not a declaration of principle but rather one of revenge.

“That is the basis of your reasoning to deny me children?” she finally spoke.

He would not have a child—not because he feared what kind of father he would be but because he wanted to spite a dead man.

“I have told you about my past,” Evan replied. “What you make of it is up to you.”

She could sense the difficulty he had saying the words. In normal circumstances, she would have offered more of a listening ear, but her anger from earlier had not yet diminished.

“And in no circumstance will you make an exception for your wife,” she continued, “who wishes badly to give you an heir and to continue on our legacy? Not your fathers’ but yours and mine.”

“I have no reason to change my mind.” His words came out flat.

Isadora felt her frustration boiling over once again. He had chosen to put his anger and his spite before their marriage.

“You’ve decided to choose selfishly. Only to seek out revenge for a man who is no longer here,” she spoke.

“I do not wish for him to have the satisfaction of his blood line continuing. It ends with me.”

“Evan, he is no longer in this world. You will not be causing him any form of satisfaction or dissatisfaction to speak of.” She shook her head. “You will only be causing me pain through your rejection.”

“Perhaps we see things differently.”

“No.” She shook her head again. “I would have understood if you were doing this for yourself. But you are doing this for him. For a man who no longer even breathes. Don’t you see how you are giving him power in your life even now?”

His jaw tightened. “It is not that simple.”

“Then make it simple for me, Evan,” she demanded, stepping closer. “Explain it to me. If not for spite, then what?”

He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

She waited for him to explain himself—something, anything to ease the turmoil that rose inside of her.

Evan’s throat bobbed, as if struggling for the right words, but ultimately, he chose silence. And that was all the confirmation she required.

“I thought you were afraid. I thought you were trying to protect yourself.” She shook her head. “But you were never thinking about us at all, were you?”

She swallowed the burn in her throat, her eyes bright with betrayal.

“This was about a dead man and your endless war with him,” she hissed. “And you are so consumed by it that you are willing to ruin your own life in the process. Our lives.”

“Why do you think that not having a child will ruin our life?” he shot back. “Have you ever considered that we might we be better off for it?”

Isadora let out a slow breath, blinking rapidly as she felt herself start to shake. “You are denying me happiness.”

“Does it not make you happy to remain with me alone?” His tone turned defensive. “Why must we add another into the equation?”

Isadora felt herself recoil as Evan tried to reach out for her.

“You are correct that we see things very differently.” Her tone was clipped. “I do not have anything else to add, seeing as you have made up your mind and refuse to see things any differently.”

“Isadora, you are being childish again?—”

“Then so be it.” She turned on her heel. “I wish to be alone again.”

And with that, for the second time that week, she left him standing there.