Page 24 of Seven Nights with the Wicked Duke (Regency Beasts #3)

T heo had never understood yearning. How could he when his lifestyle of debauchery provided all the pleasure he could ever want at his feet?

He never knew what it meant to crave the touch of a particular female, to have his dreams haunted by the sweet notes of her voice and her unique scent.

Several nights in the last week he had awoken covered in sweat from heated dreams that featured her.

He should never had kissed her. He should never had touched her the way he did, because now his dreams had concrete memories to work with and the result was that he woke up with a raging erection, haunted by an unquenchable need for her.

This should never have been possible. He had shared the bed of society's most exquisite women, he had never needed to work too hard to seduce a woman, so it seemed ironic that he was now obsessed with one particular female. This must be what it means to desire the forbidden.

As if she sensed the ravenous predator he had become, Cecilia seemed to be avoiding him. After staying up for three consecutive nights with no sign of her, he had finally accepted the undeniable truth that Cecilia had abandoned her quest.

If he were a better man, he would have felt happy that she had escaped, before she became so deeply embroiled in scandal that she became ruined.

Instead the thought of never seeing her was an ache in his chest, one that felt strangely familiar to the feeling of loss.

But Cecilia did not mean enough to him for him to feel her absence. Did she?

Theo didn't bother to answer that question because deep down he had an inkling of the answer, and it was terrifying.

So instead he did his best to exorcise himself of her.

He went to visit his favorite courtesans, but surprisingly even their most exotic tricks did nothing for him, he remained uninterested, unaroused, irritated with the choking smell of their cheap perfume.

Instead he found himself craving the mild flowery scent of one particular woman.

He turned to drink but got punished with horrible migraines for his trouble.

On the third day of waking up feeling like dirt scraped from underneath his shoe, he dragged himself out of his bed and mounted his horse. His anger and frustration urging him to find her, the true source of all his problems.

The cool wind that blew through his hair as he rode towards the park brought clarity in increments and he started to wonder what had possessed him to look for Cecilia when he looked and felt horrible.

But it was already late, since he was close to the park and in no time he could spot her, walking under the trees, her bright walking dress a beacon of light to his darkness.

His heart leapt at the sight of her, pushing his frustration to the recesses of her mind.

That was until he saw her companion and his brief spout of serenity was reached with sudden blinding rage, such that he did not know when he tightened his grip on his reins.

The stallion reared in reaction and he had to bring it under control enough to dismount and approach her and her unfamiliar companion.

The closer she came to them, the more his anger grew. While he was confident in his looks and charisma, this male was the sort of golden Adonis that debutantes of the English ton adored. He was unfamiliar and he was hovering around Cecilia.

Even worse, Cecilia was avoiding his gaze while he greeted her, even though her slight shudder at his touch assured him that she was in no way immune to him.

Suddenly it clicked. Her reluctance to meet her gaze, the reason she had a male companion on the morning walk she usually took alone…this young Adonis was her suitor. Most likely the one Magnus had told him about weeks ago at the club.

His suspicions were confirmed when Magnus materialized behind them to greet him. Apparently his friend was playing chaperone for the unlikely couple. That realization brought along with it a curious sense of betrayal.

His friend was in no way responsible for his emotional entanglements with his sister and if anyone was committing a betrayal, it was him.

He did not want to think of the chaos that would break out if Magnus found out that he had been luring his innocent sister to his home at night and touching her intimately.

So he pasted on a smile while he gritted his teeth and called his friend away for some candid questions. The confirmation that the young gentleman was indeed Cecilia's suitor served only to fan the flames of his anger.

Apart from his budding jealousy, he knew that the viscount - whoever he was- was no match for his fiery passionate Cecilia and the thought of him having the right to touch her silky skin tortured him.

But Magnus insisted that Cecilia liked him and that they were a good match.

Of course at a surface glance, the two might make a good couple but he alone was intimately aware of her secret character traits, the fiery brilliant wanton that she could become in his arms.

If she married the viscount, that side of her would die a natural death and it would be a tragedy.

He did not know when it started, but it seemed that gradually, he had started to imagine himself the perfect spouse for Cecilia, but he could not marry her simply because tying her to him would be destruction to her .

That feeling of helplessness all too easily morphed into anger and before he knew it, he was raising his voice at Magnus and marching away shaking with impotent rage.

After a hard ride around town in the hopes of relieving his anger and frustration, Theo ended up at the underground boxing ring just as the sun sank down behind clouds, heralding the arrival of nighttime.

It was here he felt most at home and as he stepped into the ring, he hoped at the end of the fight he might regain control over his mind.

He had not counted on his distraction being his downfall.

By the time the whistle was blown to signal the end of the match, he had won, but not without his own fair share of bruises all over his face and body, reminders of the times he had been distracted and how dangerous distraction could be in bare-knuckled boxing.

As he dragged his bruised body into the coach that would take him home, he admitted that the boxing might have cleared his mind, but he was going to have to suffer through a lot of pain for the next few days.

Thank goodness that Cecilia no longer visited him, if she did, she would have a lot of questions that would require answers.

Answers he was in no way ready to divulge.

When he returned to the dark barren walls of his house, he badly needed a cold bath to help relieve the ache in his bones that was slowly becoming unbearable.

Unfortunately calling for one would require him to rouse the servants and allow them to meet him in the horrible state he was in.

He had taken pains to keep that part of his life secret.

He could not take that chance for such a flimsy reason.

So he sat down on the cold floor of the hall, leaning his head on the foot of the stairs railing.

He concentrated on the cold floor beneath his feet to endure the pain.

Slowly but surely, the pain slipped to the recesses of his mind.

He was already dozing off when he was jolted awake by the sound of someone knocking on his study doors.

At first he was sure that the sound had to be a hallucination but it came again, this time he was confused. No one visited him at such ungodly hour of the night. The only person he looked forward to visiting at such a time had since moved on.

Slowly he picked himself up from the floor, dragging himself to the door and opened it. He almost fell over with surprise at the sight of the person on the other side of the door.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice rough.

Cecilia was transfixed, staring at him with horror.

"What happened to you, Your Grace?" she squeaked, coming closer to hold onto him. "You look as though you were robbed."

At that moment he cursed his weakness as he allowed her take him in, most of his weight leaning on her small frame. By the time they got to the drawing room, he was already breathing harshly, his strength completely gone.

"What are you doing here, Cecilia?" he asked in between gasps. "I thought you had a suitor; what are you doing here? I didn't call for you."

"Please keep quiet, you are injured," she said on a whisper, arranging him comfortably on the sofa. "Christ. You look terrible."

"Answer me, what are you doing here?" he asked again, his voice raised now. "This was supposed to end when you found a suitor."

"Our arrangement will only end once my list is complete and my list is not done yet. You still owe me some lessons," Cecilia shot back, immediately shocking him into silence. "Besides I am not here because of the list and I am glad I came. Now stay still while I tend to your injuries."

She stepped out of his study once she had settled him comfortably on the sofa, leaving him to his confused thoughts. He hadn't wanted to see her because it was her fault that he had allowed himself get so injured, yet his heart soared with joy at the sight of her.

She returned quickly with a bowl of water, kneeling on the floor, she pressed water out of the cloth and used it to clean his wounds.

Theo sighed at the feel of the damp cloth on his skin, enjoying the combination of the coolness of the cloth and her touch.

"You have so many scars. Who did this to you?" she asked softly, prompting him to open his eyes and look at her. "These are not all fresh wounds, Your Grace. Have… have they been here all this time? Is this why you have never bared yourself to me?"

She was staring at his skin as she cleaned it, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

"You have so many questions, little mouse, and I can hardly answer them all seeing as you ordered me to be silent," he joked.

His words caused her to laugh with tears in her eyes but she shook her head.

"If you're still able to joke then it means you will live," she mused.

"Indeed. So there is no need to pity me, love," he told her. "I did this to myself and I don't regret it."

"Why?" she gasped " How?"

"Bare-knuckled boxing," he said wryly. "It is the only form of entertainment that keeps me sane."

When she still stared at him with a frown of confusion, he continued.

"You complain that Magnus deals with his demons by being overly controlling, but it is his way of keeping control over the world that he has seen fall to pieces outside of his control, several times over.

I know it made your life growing up a tad bit difficult, but it protected you from the dangers that you are better of not knowing about.

Perhaps it would have been better if I had someone to protect like he did, instead I decided to embrace the darkness.

It is much braver than running, don't you think so? "

She sniffed and wiped at her eyes with the back of her hands as she focused on her work.

"Surely there are safer ways to deal with your demons," she told him with a stern look. "This… you need a proper doctor. I can't even see an inch of skin that isn't purple or bleeding."

"I have tried safer hobbies, little mouse, but there's only so much a man can do.

Drinking and carousing helped at first, but the demons that haunt me are insistent, they demanded something more.

One night, as I wandered home after a night of drinking, I came across some men fighting in a ring in the street.

The type of boxing they practiced did not follow the rules of nobility.

It was rough, lawless and only the strongest and most uncouth would win.

Even with the danger I felt at ease. This was what I was used to.

After all, the wars I fought played by no laid rules, other than the rule that you had to survive by all means necessary.

"I was right, it was a perfect fit for me.

I did not demand their prizes. I had no need for them, the numbness that a good fight brought was enough.

Boxing at night, pushing my body to its limits, pushing myself to exhaustion was the only way to silence my overactive mind and embrace sleep.

I know that the outside world thinks that I am the most lighthearted of my friends, but they know nothing.

But then I have always known that our society only cared for appearances, so playing the foolish rake was the perfect cover.

So perfect that no one suspects just how damaged I am.

Perhaps I am the most damaged of all my friends.

You would do well to avoid me. I would not want my darkness to corrupt your innocence.

I crave your innocence like a drug, but that is what you should never surrender to me, pet. If you do, we would both be lost."

"You might be anything, Your Grace," Cecilia replied cupping his jaw so that he had no other choice than to look into the compassionate depths of her eyes.

"But you are definitely not foolish. Everyone wears mask, even including me.

You know me well enough to know that I am not as innocent as everyone thinks I am.

You have endured much and no one had the right to question how you manage your pain.

I care about you, Theo. I do not want to see you in pain.

I just need you to work with me to fight the demons that haunt you, without punishing your beautiful body.

" she said, a single tear dropping down her cheeks.

Before he could stop himself, he reached out to wipe off the tear, caressing her cheek in consolation. He knew the perfect way to dismiss his demons once and for all.

He just had to have her by his side. In her presence, his demons had no power.

The question remained whether he was selfish enough to hold on to her or strong enough to let her go.