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Chapter Thirty-Three

T he carriage took Selina away. Hugh watched through the window of the study, laying his hand on the glass because he simply couldn’t hold back the urge to reach out for her.

It was a cruel thing to do to himself, to watch as the woman who had captivated his soul disappeared from sight… off to a church to marry someone else.

At my own behest in fact.

Hugh sighed, laying his head against the window as his pulse throbbed in his temples.

The surface was cool against his heated flesh, and he pulled at the cravat that was secured around his neck.

He couldn’t breathe like this. He couldn’t think or move or do anything beyond wallowing in the utter pit of despair that he’d dug for himself.

“Ugh, you are a pathetic mess,” he grumbled, lifting his second glass of whiskey up to his lips and downing a heavy gulp.

He had come straight to the study when he left his bedroom this morning.

Hugh didn’t speak to anyone or even so much as make eye contact with any of the unfortunate souls who had to share a house with him.

Instead, he’d locked himself behind the sturdy doors of this study and wandered about the place before pouring himself a drink first thing in the morning.

Which was quite odd even for him.

And it was his plan to remain here in this study, maybe taking a few meals every now and then, until Selina had been officially moved into Magnus’ estate.

He would miss the wedding, but that seemed a societal offense he could manage.

Hugh simply couldn’t bring himself to attend.

Watching would tear him to shreds, and he feared he might do something he would regret.

Like tearing down that aisle and snatching Selina by the arm and dragging her home with me. Ugh, yes, truly pathetic indeed.

Taking another sip of his whiskey, Hugh focused on the way it burned down his esophagus.

The discomfort was brief and hardly noteworthy compared to the furious ache that festered behind his ribs.

Hugh had never been heartbroken before, but he could see now why it was written about in tragic sonnets.

It was truly unbearable.

His mind had hardly gone foggy from the alcohol.

Apparently, Hugh’s tolerance for the stuff was quite hardy, and it was the opposite of what he wanted.

He wished to drown his sorrows once more.

Surely, they would still exist when he found himself at the bottom of the bottle, but it might not hurt so badly once there.

Fingers twitching and legs aching to move, Hugh began to pace around his study. He was still too sober. That horrid voice in the back of his mind that insisted he go after Selina was still ringing too loudly between his ears. This was what was best for her. They both knew that.

You must let her go. You must. This is what’s best for her and you.

Hugh pictured Selina’s face as the coach drove her away.

He could see the crease between her brows, the way she looked so distraught, so pained.

It reflected everything he felt within himself.

But he could not make her happy. He was a scoundrel and a businessman wholly focused on his work.

He had nothing to promise her over the long years of a marriage. Magnus… well, he did.

You might change for her. Who says your fate is written in stone?

It was such a foolish thought and one that had been keeping him up all night. He hadn’t slept a wink after Selina left the garden, and it had taken several minutes for him to go back inside himself, utterly stunned by Selina’s words and actions.

But who was he kidding? Hugh was not the marrying type.

He was too stubborn and dedicated to his work.

He had no idea how to love a woman properly or express any of the emotions that still haunted him.

Hugh had no choice but to put aside these problematic feelings for her and allow Selina to find happiness where she could.

Even though he sorely regretted having demanded that she wed.

He hadn’t known what it meant to Selina to stay a widow, and a terrible guilt that he’d never felt before clung to him.

He hadn’t realized that Selina was happy here in the estate on her own, that she had already done so much for her family by marrying the first time.

She was a proper lady through and through, giving up her own joyous life to serve and protect her family and secure all of their reputations. Hugh didn’t know what it was like to be that selfless.

Though, perhaps, letting her go is my first altruistic act of selflessness.

It seemed rather hilarious that the first time Hugh might consider someone else’s feelings, along with the demands of life in high society, was when he’d gone and done the one thing he would have guaranteed he would never do.

He’d fallen in love.

And it had been both the most beautiful thing in his life and the most disastrous.

Hugh sighed, abruptly halting his pacing and walking over to his desk.

He sat down in his chair, or perhaps more than he fell into it, and leaned back, pinching the bridge of his nose.

It seemed very likely that this migraine of his would follow him until the end of his days.

Lifting his head briefly, Hugh downed the rest of his whiskey, still set on getting as drunk as he could to numb the pain.

In an act of forward thinking, Hugh had placed the bottle of whiskey on his desk, and he refilled his glass only to down it in its entirety right away.

He poured another, giving himself a moment after the last before he planned on swallowing down more of the drink.

His thoughts were beginning to grow fuzzy along the edges, and still, the horrendous feeling of loss filled him. It was likely no use trying to dull it. Hugh would likely be stuck with this tremendous heartache and longing for the rest of his days.

How have I done this? How have I fallen in love of all things?

Still, he knew there was no denying it. He’d realized when he saw Selina last night.

He loved her. He loved her endlessly with the entirety of his heart which he’d truly believed he had been born without for so long.

Apparently, he just hadn’t yet found the woman who would ignite a fire in him that was long-lived as opposed to the fleeting sparks he felt with others.

If I’d have known how very painful love could be, I’m not sure I would allow myself to feel it the second time around.

But Hugh knew he could do little to stop himself from feeling what he did. The heart, it appeared, had a mind of its own, and it made decisions without his approval, much like Selina in fact.

Hugh snorted to himself, sipping at his third glass of whiskey. Selina was such a force of nature. She was coy and flirtatious when she wanted to be, and the fact that underneath all that, she had been a virgin still sent Hugh reeling even now.

Had been, old man. She gave herself to you…

She had, and Hugh didn’t regret it for a moment.

He’d enjoyed pure bliss when he’d finally been with Selina.

There was nothing—not even this pain that sat on his chest like a fetid toad—that would cause him to regret being with her like that.

It had been the best of his life, the best possible, certainly.

He was not only attracted to Selina in a way that consumed him, body and soul, but he also loved who she was beneath all the finery. Books and dancing, her palpable joy whenever she hosted a ball or event—everything that made Selina who she was—endlessly fascinated him and drew him closer to her.

Putting his glass to his lips, Hugh tipped his head back to swallow down another hearty gulp. As he did so, his stare landed on the bookshelves to his left, the very spot where Selina had given herself to him. Blood stirred through his body, a war of desire and grief.

You cannot do this to yourself, Hugh. Let her go. You must do what is right. You must protect her reputation. You will not ruin her life for your own gain.

No matter how much he drank, that would always be the truth, and he feared it would always hurt.

His chest ached beyond words, as if his actual heart were being crushed behind the protective cage of his ribs.

This attack was one his body could not defend itself against, and it pained him all the more to understand that nothing could be done.

He couldn’t allow himself to dream about some imagined future either.

Picturing what it might be like to have Selina at his side only made the pain worse in the long run, and he needed to be strong.

This was the right thing to do. And for once in his miserable life, he would do what was best for someone else.

If he could only deliver one righteous act, only muster up the strength to do a singular good deed, it would be this.

I… I cannot…

“Ugh.” Hugh threw up his hands, storming out of his chair and returning to pacing around his study. The floorboards creaked under his steps, and his mind hummed with incessant words that would not leave him be.

He paced and paced, sipping his whiskey with each step, the liquid draining away with each gulp.

There was too much stimulation and not enough.

He was restless but ached to relax and find the comfort of slumber.

He would utterly refuse food if offered, but the pit of his stomach felt hollow and wrong.

He was a mess—more so than he had ever been in his life.

As the world spiraled, his depression dragging his shoulders down until he nearly crumbled, Hugh stopped his mad pacing in front of the bookshelves, leaning on them for support.

He breathed in, trying to steady himself.

The distinctive smell of the old tomes filled his nostrils—vanilla and something vaguely nutty and musky.

And then he looked up and realized where he was standing.

Hugh was directly on the spot when he’d claimed Selina, where he had her pressed against these very shelves as he’d sunk himself deep inside her until they’d both reached their exquisite climax.

Everything in this house would remind him of her. Selina’s ghost would haunt him every day that she was away, living with a man who didn’t even see her or understand the incredible qualities of the woman he was married to.

Magnus does not deserve her. He will not love Selina. He’s admitted as much to her, and Selina is worth so much more than that. She ought to be loved more than breath itself, as I love her.

Hanging his head, Hugh rested it on the lip of the shelf level with him. The edge dug into his forehead, but he relished the pain, knowing that as much as he loved Selina, he’d let her down. He’d gotten her into this mess. He deserved so much more than a little sting, didn’t he?

It was odd to understand that this situation was of his own making, so he didn’t have much of a right to be so upset. He was the mastermind of his own demise. Certainly, he was simply getting what he deserved.

As he lifted his head, regretting the line that undoubtedly marred his skin thanks to the pressure, Hugh idly scanned the titles on the shelf. There were so many books in this study, and he’d yet to read any of them. He truly ought to.

And there, right in front of his face, was the book, Emma .

It must have been a purchase attributed to Selina.

She was such a romantic underneath it all, and he could imagine her reading the book and laughing at the terrible miscommunication between the characters.

He could picture how her eyes would go glassy when Emma was left alone and unmatched for a time, only to have her true love announce his feelings when she learned how truly terrible she was at matchmaking.

A common trait shared by Emma and me, it seems. I’d been so sure that Selina wouldn’t choose Magnus, that we’d have more time, and look where we are.

“What indeed,” Hugh mumbled to himself, “would be the finest match for the precious Selina? Security or love?”