Page 14 of The Big Bad Duke (The Shadows #9)

C aroline arrived home feeling as though she had been wrung out like a wet cloth.

She was tired and drained, the weight of exhaustion pressing down on her shoulders.

This feeling had lingered for a while—several weeks, in fact—ever since she had come across the late Wolverstone’s personal journal. Since reading how her uncle’s selfish actions had led to so many deaths, including those of her parents.

William, her husband’s illegitimate half-brother, had warned her against reading the journal.

Had he been right?

Was it better to remain blind to the truth when there was nothing she could do about it? Should she have stayed in the dark regarding the actions of her late, beloved uncle?

A part of her knew she had been right to uncover the truth. But another part still grappled with the consequences of that knowledge.

She couldn’t reconcile the loving uncle she had known—the man who had raised her—with the egotistical, cold-hearted figure depicted in those damning pages. She didn’t know how to hold both versions of him in her heart without breaking apart entirely.

Since that terrible revelation, she had tried harder than ever to do good, dedicating her life to helping others. It was the only time she felt a surge of energy, the only moments when the crushing weight of her uncle’s legacy seemed to lift—if only briefly.

Well, that and—

A loud shriek erupted from somewhere on the first floor, followed by the thunderous pounding of footsteps across the floorboards.

Caroline looked up just in time to see her husband, Dane, barreling down the stairs with their daughter, Jane, clutched securely in his arms. The little girl screeched with delighted excitement, her chubby arms flailing as her father took the steps two at a time.

—and when she was around her little family.

“Mama! Mama!” Jane called out, her voice high and breathless with laughter.

Caroline felt the first genuine smile of the day cross her face as she reached out to take her daughter from Dane’s arms. Jane immediately wrapped her small arms around her mother’s neck, still giggling from her wild ride down the stairs.

“What did you do all day, my darling?” Caroline asked as they made their way upstairs together, with Dane following close behind.

“Play! Play horses with Papa!” Jane announced proudly, bouncing slightly in her mother’s arms.

“Horses? Oh my, how exciting!” Caroline cooed, her voice taking on the sing-song quality that came naturally when speaking to her two-year-old daughter. “Did you gallop very fast?”

“Fast, fast!” Jane agreed, making galloping motions and testing the strength of Caroline’s grip.

“Oh, I bet your father was the fastest horse in all of England,” Caroline said, pressing a kiss to her daughter’s dark curls.

“Yes!” Jane giggled, and Caroline couldn’t help but laugh.

“Did you have your luncheon yet?”

Jane nodded vigorously, and Caroline glanced back at Dane, who shook his head.

The nursemaid appeared at the top of the stairs just as they reached the landing.

“Miss Brown, you’re just in time,” Caroline said, then looked at Jane with exaggerated solemnity. “Now we shall find out the truth about luncheon, won’t we?”

Miss Brown smiled. “I was just coming to say that her food is ready.”

“Excellent.” Caroline handed Jane over to the nanny, though her daughter protested with a small whimper at being separated from her parents. Caroline felt a pang as well, but she needed to clean up from her journey before she could spend more time with her daughter.

“How about we go for a stroll in the park in about an hour?” Caroline suggested, smoothing Jane’s hair back from her face. “Would you like that, sweetheart?”

Jane’s face immediately brightened, and she clapped her hands together. “Park! Park!”

The nursemaid smiled and nodded in agreement. “That sounds lovely, my lady. The fresh air will do her good.”

As the nursemaid carried Jane away, still chattering excitedly about horses and parks, Caroline felt the familiar wave of exhaustion creep back over her. Dane seemed to sense it immediately. His hand found the small of her back, gently guiding her into her bedroom.

He led her into her dressing chamber and moved behind her, his fingers working at the small pearl buttons of her day dress. His breath was warm against the nape of her neck as he asked softly, “How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” she replied, feeling the tension in her shoulders ease with each button that came undone.

“You’ve been feeling tired a lot lately.” He pushed the dress down her shoulders, and it pooled at her feet, leaving her standing in her chemise, stockings, and stays.

“It’s like this fog in my brain that just won’t lift, and this weight on my shoulders that keeps pressing me down.” She stepped out of the fabric, grateful to be free of its confines. “Or like stays that were laced too tightly.”

His hands stilled at her waist before he began unlacing her stays. “Let’s get you out of them, then.”

She smiled and said, “Thank you, that helps,” as she felt him loosen the restrictive garment, allowing her to breathe more deeply as it fell away.

She turned toward him and smoothed her chemise where it clung to her body. “I need to wash up.”

He untied the ribbons of her chemise and let it fall away as well. Dane couldn’t help the licentious gaze that settled on her breasts before moving lower, but he quickly raised his eyes, a flicker of humor in his dark gaze. “I’ll help you,” he said gently, moving to the washstand.

She heard the soft splash of water as he emptied the pitcher, followed by the sound of him wringing out a fresh towel.

When he returned to her, the cool cloth touched her shoulders, and she sighed at the refreshing sensation.

“My thoughts keep returning to that damned journal,” she said as he drew the damp towel along her arm.

“Your uncle,” he replied, moving the cloth across her back with gentle strokes.

“Yes.” She closed her eyes, feeling safe in the warm, caring hands of her husband. “I keep thinking about what my parents would think of me, knowing that I’ve loved their murderer all this time.”

He paused in his ministrations. “He didn’t murder them.”

“Not directly, no. But he was the reason they were killed.” She felt him resume cleaning her, the cloth now moving down her other arm.

“Dane, you lost your father because of him. St. John lost his parents. So many others… His poor judgment and selfishness ruined so many lives. I don’t know how to forgive him.

But I also don’t know how to hate him. It’s been weeks, and I still don’t know how to feel. ”

He set down the cloth and turned her to face him, his hands gentle on her freshly washed shoulders.

“Perhaps you don’t have to choose.”

“What do you mean?”

“Perhaps you don’t have to settle on one emotion. You can feel more than one thing at a time. You can love him for the life he gave you, and you can hate him for the life he took away from you.”

She looked up into his eyes, feeling vulnerable in more ways than one.

“I used to love him so much. I have so many good memories with him, and now I’m questioning everything.

How can I remember those things fondly now?

He taught me to ride my first horse, you know.

We used to have archery competitions in the garden.

” A tear slipped down her cheek. “He supported me during my debut when I was deemed a diamond of the first water, when suitors were beating down our door but I wasn’t ready to wed.

He never pressured me, always told me to take my time, that the right man would wait. ”

His thumb brushed away the tear with the same gentleness he’d shown while washing her.

“Two things can be true at the same time. He loved you more than anything in the world. He raised you like his own. He was a good father to you. But he was also a flawed, terrible human being who betrayed your parents for a quick profit.”

She felt her breath hitch as he reached for a dry towel, carefully patting her skin.

“He made a terrible mistake and was guilt-ridden his entire life,” he continued.

“Tortured and blackmailed into his tragic death. You’re allowed to hate him for that without feeling like you’re betraying the man who raised you.

You’re also allowed to cherish the memories you built together without feeling like you’re betraying your parents. ”

His voice was steady and certain as he wrapped the towel around her shoulders.

“Try to remember the man who loved you and raised you separately from the man who killed your parents. The man who raised you eventually killed the traitor within himself. He changed. But he is still a flawed man. You can love him at times, and you can hate him at other times. It doesn’t have to be one or the other. ”

She leaned into him. “Sometimes I feel like I’m not strong enough to sort through my feelings and continue with my life as if I haven’t learned about the biggest betrayal I’ve ever experienced.”

“You don’t have to be,” Dane said, his voice low.

“Don’t I?”

“No, you don’t have to be strong all the time.

You can feel weak and hopeless, but you need to remember that you’re not alone anymore.

If it’s too difficult to stand, you can lean on me.

And if you feel like falling apart, you can do that, too.

I will pick up your pieces and hold them for you until you feel like putting yourself back together. ”

Caroline searched his face for any sign of judgment or disapproval. “And you won’t think less of me for that?”

“Less of you?” He seemed surprised by the question.

“Every day, I think I could not love you more. And every day, I prove myself wrong. I don’t love you because you’re perfect or because you’re strong, confident, and self-sufficient.

What I love you for is your capacity to love, to feel, your brilliant mind, and your caring nature.

No, you are not strong all the time; what you are is resilient.

You are human, and you are bound to feel suffocated or buried by overwhelming emotions at times.

You are bound to lose yourself at times.

Finding your way back is what makes you resilient. And I will help you do that.”

Caroline let herself fall against her husband’s broad chest, drawing strength from him. He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly.

“You just need some time to regain your strength. Perhaps a change of scenery might help?”

She looked up at him. “What do you mean?”

“How about we take a trip?”

Caroline blinked. “A trip?”

“It’s bound to give us a renewed zest for life,” Dane said with a slight smile. “Especially traveling with a two-year-old.”

Despite everything, Caroline found herself laughing at the thought of spending hours in a carriage with Jane, stopping every time she saw a cow. “Go where?”

Dane let go of her and walked to the dresser, picking up an envelope she hadn’t noticed before.

“This is a letter from William. I read it without you because I wanted to know whether it contained good news or bad before sharing it with you.”

Warmth filled Caroline’s chest. “Can I assume the news is good then?”

“Yes,” Dane replied, turning the letter over in his hands.

“Though it’s short and cryptic, I assume that’s because they don’t want it traced back to them.

He does mention that he and Victoria have reached their destination and successfully settled down in France.

He sent a hidden message, which I believe contains their coordinates, and we can try to decipher it together tonight. ”

Caroline’s eyes widened. “Are you suggesting we go pay them a visit?”

Dane shrugged, but she noticed the mischievous gleam in his eyes. “What do you say?”

Caroline’s lips curved into a genuine smile. “I say yes.”