Page 26 of The Duke and the Hellion Bride (Duchesses of Convenience #7)

Chapter Twenty-Six

“A nother.” Magnus held the empty tumbler out for Theodore to take.

Theodore hesitated, eyeing the tumbler with clear concern. “I’m not one to tell a grown man how much he should drink, Magnus. But don’t you think that you’ve had enough?”

“That first instinct, I think you should stick with it,” Magnus growled. “Or do I need to pour one myself.”

“I worry that you would not be able to,” Theodore said. “Hence my concern.”

“I did not invite you here tonight for sympathy.”

“Which I am not giving. I am simply trying to save you from wasting expensive whiskey because from where I am seated, you are entirely too sloshed to enjoy it. Perhaps a glass of water will do you best?”

“Fine.” Magnus glared at his best friend and then prepared himself to stand. “If you are going to be pedantic about it, I shall fetch the drink myself.” Easier said than done.

The two men were in the drawing room of Magnus’ manor, seated by the fire, soaking in the warmth of the cackling flames as they tested the limits on how much one man could drink before he passed out cold. So far, as had been proven well and truly, the answer was more than either could have expected.

The room swayed as Magnus forced himself to stand. His knees buckled but he stayed on his feet, ignoring how the room turned as he stumbled toward the bar where the third bottle of whiskey from the night’s endeavors sat open. There, he snatched at it, missing it by several inches.

“A sign if I have ever seen one,” Theodore said. “Magnus, please, a break at the very least. Five minutes and we can start again.”

“Quite!” Magnus barked as he finally grabbed at the bottle of whiskey. “Or I shall send you home.”

“You may ask but I will ignore the request,” Theodore said. “To leave you in this state would make me not a very good friend. At the very least I need to remain to make sure that when you do pass out, you do not swallow your own tongue.”

“I am not as bad as that.” Magnus poured the whiskey, missing his tumbler at first, until he eventually found it.

“You are worse.”

“Careful, friend.” Magnus put the bottle down, took a large mouthful, and then stumbled back to the couch by the fire. “There are few who would dare speak to me as you are. And for good reason.”

“Is it because you make such rotten company?”

Magnus reached the couch but did not sit. He stood over it, glaring at his friend as if he meant to attack him. “It is because the last man who did so now has considerably less teeth.”

Theordore blew through his lips. “Oh, will you sit down already. You are embarrassing yourself. Ordinarily, I do not mind, but this is becoming sad.”

“That’s it!” Magnus stumbled back, caught his footing, and then looked for a place to put down his tumbler. He rested it on the mantle by the fire before turning back to face his best friend. “Up. Now.”

Theordore frowned. “Excuse me.”

“You heard me!” Magnus brought his fists before his face. “I said get up.”

“Careful, Magnus. Words are one thing, but some actions cannot be taken back.”

Magnus laughed. “A lesson I have learned only too well. Now, are you getting up, or do I need to drag you up by the collar.” He sneered down at his best friend, caring now for how he was behaving. Truly, Magnus was beyond the point of caring about anything.

The way he was behaving tonight was but a snapshot of how the last two days had unfolded. In fact, some might even say that he was appearing to be on the mend, because at least in this instance he wasn’t locked up in his room, alone, refusing to speak to anyone, eat so much as a slither or food, or drink because his stomach had felt so wretched he wouldn’t have been able to stand it.

Such was the way that Magnus’ life had unfolded.

Diana had left him, and it was all his fault. That was what pained him the most. Not just that he had lost the love of his life, but that he was the cause. He was the one who had lured her into a false sense of comfort. He was the one who had then broken that comfort and trust by running. And he was the one who had been too cowardly to apologize before it was too late.

He had spent the last two days replaying their final conversation over and over in his head. Wishing he had said more. Wishing he had fought for her. Wishing he had chased her, refused to let her leave, demanded that she give him a second chance.

Wishing these things was easy. Admitting the reality was that much more difficult. As Magnus had said, what had happened was his fault. Worse, Diana had been right. He hurt her once, likely he would hurt her twice, and leaving him was perhaps the smartest thing she could do.

He was a coward. Helpless and hopeless and powerless to change. For a while there, Diana had made him believe that things could be different, but no... there would be no changing. Such was the way of things.

“Well!” Magnus barked at his friend.

Theodore sighed. “Is this what you want?”

“Rarely do I get what I want,” Magnus laughed. “You should know that by now, man.”

“This isn’t you.”

“It is,” Magnus sighed. “If you’re lucky, this will be enough to convince you that I’m not worth the hassle. And after I knock you out, please do me a favor, will you?”

“Which is?”

“Leave and never come back. In that way, think of this as a kindness.”

Magnus wasn’t angry at his friend, and he sensed that Theodore knew that. But as said, this was a kindness, for how Magnus saw it. Those in his life who he grew close to tended to have bad things happen to them. Things that might have been avoided if they’d just kept Magnus from their lives.

He did not want to beat his best friend up, but he owed it to him. The coward’s way out.

“As you wish.” Theodore set down his own tumbler and stood up from the couch. He was nowhere near as drunk as Magnus and now that he was standing, Magnus had forgotten how beefy his friend was. Not fat, but thick and strong, with arms like tree trunks and fists like hams. “But I warned you.”

Magnus grinned. “As did I.”

“Excuse me?” a soft voice spoke from across the room. “I’m not interrupting, am I?”

Magnus spun about in confusion, not recognizing the voice as one of his staff. Through the haze, and the drunken stupor, he squinted until he was able to make out that of a female’s slender form lurking just inside the room.

“Who are you?” he barked.

“I am so sorry, but I was let inside by one of the staff,” she spoke, still hesitating to enter further. “They told me you were here... and they warned me I might not be wanted.”

“Well, they were right,” he snapped.

“Magnus...” Theodore groaned. He dropped his fists and strode across the room. “I must apologize for my friend’s temper. He does not entertain often. For good reason.”

“It is quite alright. I should not have come without sending word.”

“Not at all, not at all,” Theodore assured her. “Say... have we met? You look awfully familiar.”

“No, I do not believe we have.”

Magnus squinted at the woman. There was something familiar about her. Blonde hair. A lithe frame. A long face with sharp features. He had seen her before...

“And what a shame that is,” Theodore chuckled. “How is it that His Grace, the least socially hospitable man in all of London, is blessed with guests such as yourself and the last person to come visit me was my neighbor, looking for his runaway dog.”

She giggled. “Oh... I am so sorry for that.”

“It is not your fault,” Theodore sighed. “Yet do me a favor, will you? The next time you are considering whether to visit His Grace or not, kindly stop by my home instead. I assure you, it will be a far warmer welcome than what you are receiving now.”

“That is...” She giggled again. “Very kind of you.”

Magnus stumbled forward, still looking at the woman as he tried to remember where he had seen her. A shame that Theodore was blocking her now, his attention firmly turned toward flirting with the poor thing.

“Can I offer you a drink?” Theordore continued. “My drinking companion is a little worse for wear and I cannot help but think you will be infinitely better company.”

“I should not,” she said. “I do thank you, however.”

“Please, do not make me beg Miss – Oh! Where are my manors.” Theordore shook his head. “Madam, allow me to introduce myself. I am Lord Northwood.”

“It is nice to meet you.”

“And you are? Or do angels not have names?”

“Theodore,” Magnus sighed. “Will you leave the poor woman alone!”

“Just being friendly.”

“It is not bother, truly,” the strange woman said. “Although I was hoping to speak with His Grace, alone.”

“Do not break my heart,” Theodore said.

“Theodore!” Magnus barked as he stumbled across the room. “And you!” he then barked at the poor woman. “Your name. Out with it.”

“Oh!” she yelped. “Sorry, Your Grace. My name is Miss Evelyn Goldsmith, I am Diana’s cousin.”

The room turned suddenly, such was the effect of hearing his wife’s name. Magnus stumbled and grabbed for something to hold onto, his savior being Theordore who was under his arm in a second.

“Your Grace!” Miss Goldsmith cried. “Is he sick?”

“In the head, yes?” Theodore joked. “But nothing contagious.”

“Wh -- what do you want?” Magnus growled as he found his footing. “Why are you here?” The news could only be bad. Was she here to finalize the annulment? To collect Diana’s things? To rub salt into the wound for reasons of her own amusement? What?! “Did Diana send you!”

“No, Your Grace,” she squeaked. “She does not know I am here. She would be furious if she did.”

“Why then? Out with it!”

She hesitated, brow scrunched, worry painted across her visage. Whatever this was, to come here and speak to Magnus was clearly causing her great concern.

“Well?” he pushed.

“It is Diana,” she began carefully. “I... I worry for her. And I know that you do too.”

He snorted. “Clearly, you do not know as much as you think.”

“More than you, I am sure,” she said sharply, which had Theodore chuckling. Magnus reared up angrily, but Miss Goldsmith stood her ground. “You may not know this, but the reason Diana asked for an annulment has nothing to do with how she feels for you. In fact, as far as I can gather, she still cares for you deeply.”

Magnus balked. “Wh... what? No. Lies. You have come here to trick me.”

“I have not,” she said. “Diana did not want to annul her marriage with you. She was forced into it – blackmailed! She had no choice, for she feared for the safety of your nieces if she did not agree.”

“She feared for...” Magnus shook his head, wishing now he had not drunk so much. “What are you saying, woman? Speak plainly!”

“It is Lord Herrod, Your Grace. You will not have heard, as the plans are yet to be announced, but one the annulment is finalized, they are to be wed.”

“What?!”

“It was forced upon her,” Miss Goldsmith continued as Magnus grappled with information he did not understand. “He told her that if she did not agree to his terms, that he would hurt your nieces. He is deranged, she claims, and she feared for their lives.”

“She...” Magnus’ head began to clear. Or perhaps that was his heart soaring? “She did not want to annul our marriage?”

“No!” Miss Goldsmith cried. “Far from it. But your nieces, Your Grace. They were who she feared for.”

Magnus had no idea what was going on. And he only half understood what Miss Goldsmith was saying. He took a deep breath, steadied himself, and then looked the woman in the eyes. “Tell me again, clearly. And from the beginning.”

Miss Goldsmith did just that, explaining with far more clarity what was going on exactly and why she was here. “... he has called her to his home tomorrow,” she explained, continuing the story as Magnus finally began to understand. “Where I believe they will meet with his lawyers to begin the process of annulment. He has her trapped, Your Grace, and she fears there is nothing she can do to escape.”

“Unbelievable!” Theodore cried. “And you, Miss Goldsmith. You are very brave for coming here.”

“Oh...” She blushed furiously. “Thank you.”

Magnus ignored his friend’s flirting. He ignored Miss Goldsmith’s pleading. His focus now was on Diana, his wife, the story told which dashed the funk that had hung over his head like smashing an egg against the wall.

He felt his heart begin to pound solidly in his chest. He felt his sense of worth, his courage, return in droves. All the doubt that had besieged him. The sense of hopelessness, weakness, helplessness that had beaten him down. It faded – no! He battered it away. Because through it all he focused on that which mattered, words which had him standing as if he meant to fly!

His wife, Diana, still cared for him. By all accounts, she might very well have loved him. And now, she needed his help.

Once, Magnus might have run when faced with a situation like this. But as Magnus had promised his wife not so long ago, he was capable of change. He had changed. Love had done that to him, and now he meant to save who was responsible. She whom he loved with all his heart.

It was time Magnus did as he should have days ago. It was time that Magnus fought for his wife, his happiness... for love.

“Tomorrow, you say?” he asked. On his feet, there was a growl in his voice, anger boiling away just below the surface.

“Yes, tomorrow morning,” she said. “She does not know I am here. Again, the children. If anything was to happen to them...”

“Do not worry for the girls,” Magnus said. A smile, only for a moment, at the thought of Diana had how much she was willing to sacrifice for his nieces. The smile then turned to a sneer like a wolf cornering its prey. “It is Lord Herrod whose safety is in question. At least it will be, by the time I am done with him.”