Page 83 of The Duke and the Unwanted Bride

Her brow furrowed. “I know you did, but… but I thought that?—”

“You did not think,” he cut her off. “You did not listen, Hannah. When you asked me two nights ago why I did not wish to have children, I told you the reason. I…” He bit his lip as those memories dredged up old pain. “What I told you was not a story I expected you to dismiss or look past as if it did not matter.”

“That is not what I am doing!” she cried.

“It is!” he insisted. “You have no idea how hard my marriage to my first wife was. How… how much it hurt, the way it ended. The pain it has caused me every day since, knowing that I as good as killed her.”

“But that’s not true!”

He laughed bitterly. “Semantics. If she had loved me, even a little…” He was shaking, his fists clenched, his breathing ragged. “If she had cared enough, I know she would not have died. She let herself pass because of who I was.”

“It was not your?—”

“It was!” he shouted over her, anger taking over. “She hated me. Every day that we were wed was agony for her, such was her loathing. And I knew it, too,” he snarled, more to himself than Hannah. “And I did not care because I was so desperate for a child! I was happy for her to live in misery because of what I thought I wanted.”

“But we are different.” Hannah swept toward him, reaching for his hands, only for him to step away. She stumbled, looking hurt by the gesture. “I do not hate you, Frederick. And I know you do not hate me.” Her chin began to wobble. “Do you? Do you hate me?”

“Of course not!”

“Then what?”

Frederick looked away, for the shame he felt was too great. “I have given you my reasons, and that should be enough.”

“Well, it is not enough! Quite frankly, the only reason I can think of that you are being so… so stubborn is that you are scared. Which is hardly a reason to act this way.”

“Of course, I am scared!” he cried. “I am terrified! I do not deny that. Perhaps one day, I will not be. Perhaps one day, things will change, but right now…” A deep breath as he felt the world spinning. “Right now, I cannot offer you what you want.”

“I…” She hesitated, almost didn’t say it. “I can wait.”

He laughed. “I saw you tonight, Hannah. I saw the way you looked when your sisters spoke of their children. I saw that glimmer in your eyes, that desire to start a family of your own. Do not deny it.”

“I…” Her face was stricken with pain, and oh how he wanted nothing more than to go to her. “I can wait,” she said again softly.

“And if I never change my mind? What, then?”

She winced. “I do not believe that will happen. I know that… that I can change your mind.”

“But that is the point. The problem. I do not want my mind changed. It is made up! It has always been. And I do not wish to be in a marriage with someone who is trying to trick me or cajole me or… or force me to do something they know I do not want.”

Hannah seemed to only just now understand what he was saying. Ironic, as Frederick was only just now starting to understand what he was saying.

When he had pictured this conversation, he had not known where it might go. He had not wanted to think about it, for the fear might have made him postpone it or not have it at all.

But now, in the face of their arguing, their refusal to compromise, he knew exactly what was going to happen. The only thing that could happen, as much as it killed him to consider it.

“What are you saying?” she asked, her voice soft, cracking.

“I think you know…” He looked down, unable to meet her pain-filled gaze.

“No.” She went to him, forcing him to take her hands. They were trembling, sweaty, so frail that he felt they might break if he held them too tight. “You do not mean that. I know you do not.”

“This marriage…” Frederick’s chin was wobbling too. His heart was pounding, his stomach was churning. “It was meant to be a marriage of convenience only.”

“No.”

“But I see now that even that is impossible. Hannah…” He raised his head and looked into her eyes. They were glistening withtears, red and raw. “When we first got married, I told you I would not so much as touch you. Back then, it seemed like a decent compromise, a means of safety that I so sorely needed.”

“No…”

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