Page 8 of The One With the Wayward Duke (The One With the Wanton Woman #5)

T OBIAS COULD FEEL THE distress emanating from the woman’s body, and he couldn’t blame her. To find a person you thought you loved moved on so easily was heart-wrenching. He would have to make a note of Herman as well as the hack driver. For future reference.

For now, he empathized with his travel companion’s devastation. He knew a bit about that pain himself, having been jilted at the altar so recently. His bride left him for another man.

In the weeks that followed that unexpected event, he had come to a few realizations. One, he hadn’t been in love with Delphine, because two, he finally saw how manipulative she had been; therefore, three, it hurt his pride more than it hurt his heart that she ghosted him at the altar.

She had wanted him for his title, like so many women.

That wasn’t surprising. But he had thought it had been about more than status for her.

The way she had looked at him, complimented him, feigned interest in hobbies of piquet and fishing.

But now that he looked back on it, he could see it was all a ploy to set herself apart from the other women seeking his attention.

He should have seen it, but he had been blinded by her beauty.

As well as her acting abilities apparently.

He had fallen in love with someone that didn’t exist, the person she had portrayed herself to be but was not.

When news came the morning of the wedding that a prince was coming to town, and rumors had spread that he might be interested in meeting Delphine’s acquaintance, well, she cast aside her duke in hopes of snagging a prince.

Tobias still wasn’t sure if he wished her luck on that quest or not.

His heart was over her, but he wasn’t quite able to bestow that level of benevolence.

Now as he saw this woman falling apart, apparently one crisis after another, he wanted to see her whole.

He wanted to see her fight through these setbacks and come out stronger.

The kindness in her heart was evident by the fact that she was able to see past her own issues and share whatever she could with the beggar-woman.

Witnessing that one small act had ripped through Tobias’s heart.

He meant every word when he said that she was a better person than he was.

It had been weeks for his own heart to heal, and he had treated a similar woman without the respect that every human deserves, yet this woman—whose name he really needed to learn—in the midst of crisis had shown such empathy.

It was rare behavior indeed when a person could ignore their own urgent needs and show compassion for someone else in greater need. Too often a person allowed their needs to become all that they could see, and they didn’t accept that a change in perspective could change their actions.

This woman was a rare gem. And he really wanted to know her better—starting with her name.

“Tobias, please,” she pleaded with him now. “Let’s leave.”

“Yes, of course.” Inwardly he kicked himself for the short delay he had caused. “May I ask your name—”

“Freya!” a man’s voice boomed as the door to their private room crashed open. It was Herman.

Freya?

“Freya, don’t leave yet. Let me explain.”

Wait. Freya? As in…no. It couldn’t be. There was no way. There had to be some mistake. A misunderstanding. There had to be more than one Freya. But…Freya? That was not such a common name and they had been coming from the church where….no…it could not be true.

But the look on Freya’s face said it all.

Tobias’s heart plummeted to the ground. It landed there with a thud. And then a splatter, like someone had thrown a bucket of bath water over it. And then yes…that was the sound of a stomp because the fall and the bath water had not caused enough humiliation and damage.

What the bloody hell was going on?

“Freya, I must talk to you.” Herman’s tone was serious but not contrite. He stood shoulder to shoulder with Tobias. The man wanted to be heard but from the sounds of it, didn’t have much to say. At least, not much in the way that would do Freya (Freya? He still couldn’t believe it) much good.

Freya’s eyes bounced back and forth between Herman and Tobias, but they rested on the latter even though they spoke to the former.

“There’s nothing to say, Herman. I don’t know why I came here.

” She was gripping her neck, a gesture Tobias already recognized as her nervous tick.

“It wasn’t love. I was a fool. I am a fool.

But I won’t continue to be one. You owe me nothing.

We were done. You can be with anyone that you want to be with.

And clearly,” she crossed her arms still looking at Tobias, “that’s not me. ”

Herman sighed in relief. Which…well, that was neither good nor bad, it just was.

He had moved on and he felt enough guilt about it to give an explanation for his actions, but not enough guilt that he wanted to change his actions.

Unfortunately, that was a common amount of guilt people felt about many things.

“Now if you’ll both excuse me,” Freya made a move to part the men as if they were the Red Sea, “I must be on my way.”

Both? Oh no. That was not happening. She thought she was going to leave him too? Now? Not on her life.

“As you can see, Herman,” Tobias elongated Herman's name as he spoke, “you have said your piece, and now the lady has said hers. That will be all. You may leave now.” And then he mumbled more to himself than anyone, “It’s a good thing your name is on the list.”

Herman shot Tobias an almost-appreciative glance but Tobias felt no obligation to accept it. With a curt nod, he dismissed the man and closed the door.

The two travelers stood facing each other. The air was thick and heavy. A density of such proportions that Tobias had to make several hard blinks to focus on the object of his wrath.

This woman.

Had he really thought her guileless?

This woman.

Had he really weighed out the idea of love at first sight because of her?

This woman.

Had he really felt as though she needed to be rescued?

It couldn’t be. Yet…it was. This woman was the epitome of everything he loathed. Duplicitous. Capricious. Devious.

She was the manipulative bride. The other half of the couple that had left her groom. At. The. Altar.

His blood was pounding out of his ears and every muscle in his body was taut. At first he thought she needed to be rescued. Now all he wanted to do was teach her a lesson.