Page 44 of The Duchess and the Beast

“What happened?” she asked, nerves tinging her voice.

Sebastian nodded. “Lord Wellington’s brother, Jasper was his name.” A bittersweet smile as he remembered his friend. “He and I led a small detachment through the rear of the village,flanking it to join with the main forces in the center. As we anticipated, the village appeared deserted. Just a few stragglers. Some families in hiding. But nothing that posed a threat...” He trailed off as he began to remember.

Virtue remained silent beside him. He could feel her eyes singing into the side of his face—could sense the apprehension pouring from her. Were he alone, he knew he would likely succumb to the grief that always threatened to overwhelm him when he recalled those moments—mistakes made, lives lost, all because of his ignorance.

“We finished scouting,” he continued with some difficulty. “We were about to regroup with the main force when I spotted a farmhouse we hadn’t yet checked. I instructed Jasper to lead the men back while I investigated it alone, convinced it would be unoccupied. It was a necessity, you see, to make records of all landmarks surveyed, so it should have just been a routine check. They tried to pull me away from it, Jasper leading the cause, claiming it was a night for celebrations, not labor, but I was too headstrong on such a minuscule detail. I cannot for the life of me recall why. So, I carried on alone. At first, it seemed just as empty as I expected. I conducted a swift perimeter check, inspected the main building, and was about to return when I heard it...”

“Heard what?” she murmured.

“Crying,” he whispered back. He could hear it now, ringing in his ears, as clear as if it was right beside him. “A girl crying in what I realized to be a cellar tucked away behind the stables. Believingit to be merely children, I... I let down my guard,” he grimaced. “I did not think it to be a danger. I left my sword and rifle on my horse as I hurried to open the cellar doors, only to find... it was not just a girl.”

“It was… it was a trap?”

Sebastian nodded soberly. “Five men. All armed. There was a girl too, a child, maybe sixteen or seventeen, her tears... they were using her to lure me there. Upon recognizing my rank—a commander—they saw an opportunity to use me for leverage. One held me at gunpoint, as another... He reached up and touched the scar running down the side of his face—he could feel the blade now as it sliced him, warm blood trickling down his chin. “They intended to use me as a bargaining chip, but I feared they would end my life instead. But then, Jasper intervened.”

“He rescued you?” she asked.

“From the ether. Saber in one hand. Pistol in the other. He dispatched three of them before they even realized he was on them and the distraction was enough to free myself to help him with the last two.” He grimaced as he recalled the pure delight on Jasper’s face, how excited he was at having appeared just in the nick of time. These weren’t normal emotions for the circumstances—at the precipice of death, one should feel terror, dread, an existential crisis perhaps—yet joy and pleasure… they had become part and parcel of their existence at war. “We thought we’d won. We thought it was over, just another tale we could tell our friends upon our return home, but...” A lump formed in his throat. “But the girl. It was foolish of me. Iassumed her to be their captive, that she was a prisoner but she... she... I should have...” His body began to shake and it was all he could do to keep himself from breaking entirely. There was a pause, where nothing was said as Sebastian gathered his thoughts.

Eventually, he nodded, as silent tears streamed down his face. “She plunged a saber through his back—the saber... it pierced right through him as he was laughing. I didn’t understand it at first. I remember standing there, unable to comprehend what had just happened. It wasn’t until he collapsed to his knees before me, lifeless...”

Silence rang out after that. Thunder rolling in the distance. The whip of lightning. And Sebastian’s heart thrashing.

“And the girl?” Virtue asked the question he prayed she would not. “What... what happened to her?”

“She didn’t make it to morning,” Sebastian said coldly.

Not a word was spoken for what felt like an eternity, though it might have only been a minute. Sebastian became lost in the haunting memory of that night, and Virtue seemed to sense the weight of his grief. She held him tight, refusing to let go, as if the very warmth of her body could anchor him. And in a way, it did. It was the first time Sebastian felt any real compassion since the war, and it was almost enough to pull him from the darkness threatening to consume him.

“I don’t understand. It wasn’t your fault,” she whispered eventually, her voice soft and soothing.

“What?” he asked, pulling back slightly to look into her eyes.

“It wasn’t your fault,” she repeated. “What happened to Jasper, you couldn’t have—”

“Don’t.” He held her away, then leaned back so they were no longer touching. “Please, don’t. Don’t try to make me feel better. There are some things that one shouldn’t be made to feel better about.”

“I am serious,” she pleaded. “I can understand why you might feel guilty but there is no reason why—”

“I said, enough!”

She gasped, freezing in her spot. Naked, lying on her side, half-leaning toward him, her body stilled in an instant. Though she tried to look at him with pity and remorse, he saw the disgust concealed behind her eyes. Not that he could blame her—it was everything he deserved.

“You asked how I got this scar,” he continued, pushing himself to his knees. “And now you know. Now you know I do not wear the mask merely to conceal some war mark. I wear it so I needn’t look at myself and be reminded of what I did.”

She shook her head. “And I told you, I don’t care about that. That man... he is not you.”

“He is.”

“No, he is not—”

“He is!” Sebastian bellowed, anger flaring again. But not at Virtue. Never at her. It was himself who he hated in that moment. It was he who his fury was directed at. “My best friend died because of me! Me! That was my fault!”

“It wasn’t...” she said softly, not willing to challenge him like she so often did.

“And that girl... merely a pawn for those men’s schemes,” he spat, his lip curling in disgust. “I killed her for it. For nothing! And that is something that I have to live with.” He hammered his fist into his chest. “That is something that I deal with every single day. I don’t take pleasure in it. I am not happy with what I did. But it is my burden to carry. It is mine!”

She reached out to him, but he winced and pulled back, stumbling as he climbed to his feet.