Page 80 of A Virgin for the Duke of Thorns

Even painting, which had afforded him some solace in the past, was no longer as interesting as it used to be. All it did was remind him of Alice and what he had lost.

He gripped the railings and rose unsteadily on his legs. Slowly staggering back up the stairs, he remembered there was still half a bottle of brandy left in his study. Colin had never been one to drown his sorrows in liquor, but right now, there was very little that offered him respite, save for the head-wracking stupor that intoxication afforded him.

Maybe in a few weeks or months… maybe in a few years even, he might learn to live with this heaviness in his heart.

For now, he would have to make alcohol his friend and hope it would tide him until Evie successfully found a match this Season.

After that, he could simply shut himself out of the world once more. Only this time, it was bound to be colder.

A life without Alice… it no longer held as much meaning as he once thought it did.

CHAPTER 33

Imparting bad news was never a pleasant undertaking. One never knew how the recipient of such unfortunate tidings would react to what you were about to say. Of course, one may also prevaricate on the matter, but what good would that do to anyone? It was better to give out the whole truth in bulk, to get it over and done with in one sitting, rather than prolong the agony for everyone involved.

Alice already had a vague idea of just how her announcement was going to impact both of her parents.

Disappointment is going to be the order of the day.

This was, after all, the only serious prospect she had had in all her three Seasons. To have her betrothal called off before a fortnight… it was not a particularly good look.

She sighed and steeled herself.

“Mama, Papa,” she said softly. “There is something I must tell you.”

It was a sunny afternoon in the parlor of Brandon Estate in London, and Lady Brandon was idly embroidering a handkerchief for Phoebe. The Marquess, looking greatly improved from his brief sojourn in Fitzroy Hall, closed the paper he was reading, his deep green eyes trained intently on his eldest daughter.

Alice took a deep breath as she looked at both her parents and then hung her head.

“I want to call off my engagement to the Duke of Blackthorn.”

The words came out in a rush, and she feared for a moment that her parents did not quite catch what she just said. Silence hung in the cheery parlor, but inside, she felt dreadfully cold. It was like a perpetual winter had set in her heart. How ironic that the sun would choose to shine so gloriously as she roiled in her heartbreak.

The paper rustled as the Marquess folded it and set it aside. “What did that brat do to you?” he asked her, his eyes glinting.

Alice shook her head emphatically. “Oh, no, no! He did not do anything.”

And was that not the most painful thing? That he did not do anything at all?

She had given him all of herself, and still, the demons of his past had a much stronger hold on him than she had ever imagined.

The Marquess snorted. “When he came running into our home, begging for your hand in marriage, I told him that his whole proposal hinged on whether you would accept him or not.”

Alice looked up at her father in shock. She had not thought that her father would not so easily give her away to what was probably her best suitor.

“Well then, that is that, I suppose.” Lady Brandon smiled, setting aside her embroidery.

Alice looked at her mother. “Y-you… are not disappointed in me?”

The Marchioness looked at her strangely. “Now, why would I be disappointed in you, dear one?”

“Because I should have put in more effort,” Alice choked out. “Because His Grace was the best suitor I have and-and?—”

“And he does not make you happy,” her mama told her firmly. “Clearly, since you are so distraught.”

Her father smiled simply at her. “Betrothals are not fixed, Alice. Marriages are. If you had indeed married the man, and he proved to be unworthy of your affection, it would have been far more devastating for your mother and me.”

At his words, Alice could no longer hold back her tears, and she rushed to them. The pain and the longing she had kept pent up in her heart broke open like a dam, and she sobbed openly as they held her in very much the same way they did back when she was a child and so, so very ignorant of love and its foibles.

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