Page 56 of Scoundrel Take Me Away (Dukes in Disguise #3)

“My turn,” he said roughly, never taking his eyes off her face. “If I hadn’t recovered my memories, would you have gone through with it, all the way down the aisle?”

Lucy’s breath left her in a whoosh. She wanted to say she didn’t know, but that would have been a lie. Tilting her chin up, she said, “Yes. I would have married you.”

He stared for a suspended moment before barking out a humorless laugh. “Christ. Never say you’re a woman who can’t commit to a course of action. However daft.”

Lucy’s palms were cold and clammy, her breath shallow, but she didn’t falter. “I know our betrothal happened under…unusual circumstances. But there’s nothing daft about a woman wedding the man she loves.”

His handsome face twisted. Baring his teeth, he snarled, “Stop saying that. You don’t love me.”

“I do!” Lucy clasped her hands together tightly, wanting to run to him, to cling to him, to make him understand. But she sensed that the moment was balanced on the edge of a knife—one wrong move and there would be blood on the floor.

“You don’t,” he said, shaking his head. “I told you, I remember everything . I remember what you said last night, too.”

“Yes!” Lucy threw her hands up. “I told you I love you!”

“You said, ‘I love you, Gabriel,’” he said, low and intense. “You don’t love me. You love him .”

“You are him,” Lucy cried, fear twining about her heart.

He dipped his chin in a slow nod, as though she’d confirmed everything he believed.

Shadows fell across his starkly beautiful features, darkening the hollows beneath his dramatic cheekbones and smudging purple bruises under his eyes.

“I’m not that man anymore, Lucy. He doesn’t exist. I left him on a ship moored off the coast, chained up alone in the dark. You fell in love with a ghost.”

Frustration wrung tears from the corners of her eyes. She dashed them away with the side of her hand, impatient with herself. “I fell in love with you , you stubborn jackass. With all the versions of you. I’ve fallen in love with you three separate times now!”

“You desired The Gentle Rogue. You loved Gabriel. But Thorne? Me? The real me…you hate.”

Unable to restrain herself any longer, Lucy rushed forward to grasp the front of his shirt. She wanted to shake him until he stopped spouting nonsense. “All of those are the real you! I see you, Rogue, Gabriel, Thorne—whatever you call yourself. And I love you.”

But he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, hear her. She watched in torment as the walls went up behind his eyes, turning them opaque and impenetrable.

“I can’t be the man you want. Pack your bags,” he said, soft and ruthless. “It’s time for you to leave Thornecliff.”

A sharp pain cracked through Lucy’s chest, her ribs snapped like kindling to pierce her heart. “You don’t mean that.”

He looked down at her. His face gave away nothing. He was like an empty suit of armor under the needy grasp of her fingers.

Reaching up, he disentangled her grip from his shirt. His hands were warm against her chilled skin as he lifted their joined hands to his lips for a brief, devastating kiss.

“Go home, Lucy. There’s nothing for you here.”

A sob rose up in her throat. It was her turn to shake her head over and over, as if the motion would dislodge his cruel words from her mind.

“I promised you I wouldn’t leave you,” she gasped out. “Even if you banished me.”

He stepped back, dropping her hands. He looked down at her, as remote and untouchable as the sun. “You gave that promise to a dead man, Lucy. You aren’t bound by it.”

A tear tracked down her cheek, but she didn’t bother to wipe it away. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.

“You win,” she told him, voice as dead as she felt inside. “I’ll go.”

Turning, she walked to the door. Every step hurt; she felt like an old woman, brittle and worn.

He didn’t stop her.

When she got to the door, she paused with one hand on the knob. Turning her head to speak over her shoulder, she said, “Do you know, it’s taken me years, but I believe I’ve finally learned my lesson.”

“What lesson is that?”

His voice, behind her, was a ragged shred of his usual silken tones. She wished she could take some comfort in it.

“I can’t make you love me the way I need you to,” she said. “Oh, yes, I know you love me. Don’t deny it. We’re done lying, remember?”

“I remember,” he said hoarsely.

Lucy’s fingers tightened painfully on the doorknob for a moment before she made herself let go. “You love me,” she said on a hitched breath. “Just not enough.”

She opened the door and stepped through, her vision blurred with tears.

In the hallway, Lord Roman stood at attention, as though he’d been waiting for a sign that it was safe to enter the dining room.

“Is he—?” Lord Roman was uncharacteristically hesitant.

Lucy waved a hand at the door behind her. “Memory restored. Dominic went for the doctor, but I don’t think he’ll discover anything wrong with Gab—I mean, Thornecliff. He seems…quite his old self.”

Lord Roman passed her, but as he reached for the door handle, he said, “I beg your pardon, but are you well?”

Lucy started up the stairs. “You got your wish, Lord Roman. I’ll be gone in an hour.”

“Lady Lucy, I didn’t wish for this. I only wanted to care for him. Not that I’ve done a very good job of that.”

Stopping halfway up the staircase with her hand on the banister, Lucy turned to look down at Lord Roman. “No, you haven’t,” she said bluntly. “And I know he doesn’t make it easy, but if loving was easy, everyone would do it.”

A spasm crossed his face, but Lucy didn’t pause.

“You have another chance now, to do better,” she said. “I hope you won’t squander it.”

Before he could reply, Lucy turned away, unable to bear another moment of holding herself together.

She needed to be alone in her room, where she could fall apart…and pack her things for the trip to Little Kissington.

Lucy was finally going home.