Page 41 of The Duke’s Second Bride (Regency Second Chances #4)

I n the days that followed, Christian hardly saw Ava at all.

He no longer had to try to avoid her. She no longer sought him out, and in fact seemed rather to be avoiding him.

She had ceased coming to meals in the dining room, instead taking nearly all of her meals in her room.

One day, his resolve broke enough to ask the housekeeper, “Will my wife be joining us for dinner tonight?”

But the housekeeper merely shook her head. “Her Grace is visiting with her friend Lady Nealton. She has sent word that Lady Nealton has invited her to stay for dinner, and she regrets that she will not be back at the house until quite late. Shall I send word back?”

Christian shook his head. “No,” he said. He dragged a hand over his face, then shook his head again. “No, that is quite all right. I trust she will have an excellent evening with Lady Nealton.”

Despite the fact that he didn’t need to worry about running into Ava, suddenly the house felt unbearably empty without her there, and with Luke occupied by his tutors. Christian pulled on his coat and went out to call on the only person he could think of to see.

“Been a while since we’ve had a drink,” Vincent said, slamming his glass down on a table. “Not since your honeymoon, I believe. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Christian shrugged and muttered something non-distinct about needing to get out of the house.

Despite his desire not to be alone, it was immediately apparent that he did not have the energy to put up with Vincent’s joviality.

Vincent was an excellent friend, but the last thing Christian needed was to look at Vincent—happily married, deeply in love with his wife, a loving father to his children—and compare his own failings against his friend’s success.

“Well. We should bring the families together again sometime soon. My wife was asking after yours the other day. And how goes your continued wedded bliss?” Vincent asked.

Christian tried not to react, but he could not help the way his entire spirit seemed to wilt at the question.

It was clear Vincent noticed. His ever-present smile dimmed a bit, but he soon plastered it back into place. “That bad, eh? What, is she nagging you to spend less time drinking? You’re hardly likely to win her over, stuck here.”

It was clear that he was intending to cheer Christian out of his gloom with jests. It was an easy joke. Christian rarely drank at all.

But he could not bring himself to even dismiss his friend’s joke in his usual surly manner, let alone laugh. Instead, he just shrugged again.

“Hm.” Vincent patted his shoulder. “It seems you need to be alone, old chap. That’s all right. I’ll owe you a drink next time you’re out, all right? It’s time I headed homewards to Sophia and the children. Take care of yourself.”

Christian appreciated his friend reading his silent bid for silence. But he could not deny that he felt worse off for his loneliness.

“You do realize, my dear, that this is the third time you have visited in as many days?” Edith inquired, bringing a cup of tea to her lips.

After sipping, she smacked her lips delicately.

“Not that I am not pleased to see you,” she continued. “As you know, you are always welcome here. And I am pleased that you are healthy enough to visit, now that your sickness has passed. But I would have expected you to be otherwise occupied.”

“Otherwise occupied?” Ava said levelly. “How so?”

Edith gave her a look. “With your husband, for starters,” she replied.

Ava shrugged. “He has been … busy,” she said, trying to evade the question. “And I simply wanted to come spend some time with my closest friend. Is that so wrong?”

Edith put her cup down on the table firmly and then turned an unforgivingly sharp gaze on Ava. “You cannot fool me into thinking nothing is wrong, Ava,” she said.

Ava sighed. She had been coming to see Edith because she wanted to be distracted from her heartbreak, not because she wanted to be reminded of it.

But it was clear from the look in Edith’s eyes that she would not drop the subject easily.

“Things are over between Christian and me,” she said.

Her eyes pricked with tears as she tried to find the words to explain.

“We are returning to our former dynamic,” Ava continued. “One of practicality, not passion. We discussed the matter a few days ago and reached the same conclusion.”

“What?” Edith looked entirely shocked. “What on earth do you mean, things are over?” she asked. “You were so happy barely a week ago.”

“I thought so, as well,” Ava said.

“What happened?” Edith demanded to know.

“When I was ill last week,” Ava began, “the doctor had suggested that a pregnancy might be the cause.”

Edith nodded enthusiastically.

“Oh, of course. Because of the sickness after dinner. I am so sorry, Ava. I know you had hoped for such a thing. Was Christian disappointed there was no baby? But that should be no reason to distance himself from you,” she said, almost talking to herself at this point, before Ava could chime in.

“If anything, I should think it is an encouraging sign. You are young and healthy, you could have a baby at any moment, were you to keep living as husband and wife.”

“That was what I thought at first,” Ava agreed. “But Christian does not feel the same way. Isabel—his first wife—Luke’s mother—she died in childbirth.”

Edith raised a hand to her mouth. “Oh,” she said, her voice bursting with sympathy. “Oh, that is horrible. Poor Luke. And poor Christian.”

“He is convinced that a pregnancy would bring death with it,” Ava said, frustrated. “And now he wants nothing to do with me. He discarded me as easily as a piece of paper with ink spilled all over it.”

Hearing tears in her friend’s voice, Edith leaned forward, placing a sympathetic hand over Ava’s. “Oh, Ava. Surely you must see that it is entirely the opposite? He cares for you immensely. He is merely afraid to lose you.”

“But he has let the fear overrule the affection,” Ava said morosely. “What good is it for him to care for me, if the thought of caring for me sends him into a panic?”

“Have you tried speaking to him more about it?” Edith asked.

Ava shook her head in frustration. “I have done nothing but try to talk to him about it,” she said. “It took a while, seeing as how he was resolutely avoiding me, but finally I managed to get more than two words out of him. He made it very clear he does not think it is worth the risk.”

“So, he would swear away a life of love just for a brief panic?” Edith asked, as though she couldn’t possibly comprehend. Ava felt better, seeing her own confusion mirrored in her best friend’s reaction.

“I am of a mind with you,” she assured Edith. “But I have tried to reason with him. If he does not want me, I cannot force him to change his mind. It is better for me to give him what he wants.”

“Ava,” Edith said chidingly.

“And … perhaps he is right,” Ava said. The tears spilled over. “This pain alone hurts so much, and we barely had a few weeks of happiness. What love could possibly be worth this pain?”

“Love?” Edith gasped. “Ava, do you love him?”

Ava shrugged, feeling more helpless than she ever had before in her life.

“Does it matter?” she cried. “He does not want my love, Edith. And I do not want to feel like this ever again. I have a home and stability. I have a child in Luke. I have my friendly love for you. Perhaps it was greedy of me to ever want more.”

“You mustn’t say such things,” Edith cooed, trying her best to comfort Ava.

She pulled out a kerchief and passed it to her friend.

Ava accepted it gratefully, wiping at her eyes.

“Ava, you are the most selfless person I know. You deserve all the love you have ever dreamed of. It is not greedy to want romance.”

Ava shook her head after drying her tears. “I do not know,” she said. “I feel as though I don’t know anything anymore. I was certain I would never feel about anyone the way I do about Christian, and yet here I am. I thought we were finally happy for good, and yet it was snatched away so suddenly.”

“If it changed once, it can change again,” Edith urged her. “You must talk to him.”

Ava shook her head. “He does not want me,” she said again. “He wants me to leave him alone. All I can do is give him that.”

He couldn’t escape the guilt that was gnawing away at his stomach. But there was also nothing he could do to remedy the situation.

He had done the right thing, he reminded himself. He wanted—he needed to keep Ava safe, and this was the only way to guarantee that safety.

Moreover, what would caring for each other do, except open them both up to the pain of future loss? Even if death in childbirth wasn’t a certainty, neither of them would live forever.

Whether it was now or later, he would have to lose her eventually.

He was protecting them both, he told himself.

He threw himself into his work, and so he didn’t see much of Luke, either. The boy knew not to bother his father when there was paperwork to be done.

But today, when he went into his study, he found some drawings left on his desk. There was one of Pudding, curled up in an armchair. There were several flowers that were now blooming strongly in the garden.

Christian smiled in spite of his melancholy. Luke was a talented artist, and it had been sweet of him to leave the drawings here. He must have noticed the gloom and wanted to cheer his father up.

Then Christian turned the page, and his heart tightened.

It was a picture of Ava, petting a horse. Luke had even managed to capture the glint of sun off her hair and the joyful light in her eyes.

Looking at the picture, Christian could not help but be tossed back into a memory of their first meeting.

The fierce passion in her eyes had taken his breath away.

The other night, when she had come to confront him in the library, that same determination had been written all over her face.

When he had pushed her away, he could almost see the light in her eyes die. It was so horrible that he had barely been able to look at her.

He let the pictures fall back onto his desk. Then he collapsed into his chair and didn’t move for a long time.

When he stood up, he pulled on his coat and headed out. He needed a drink.