Page 82 of His Runaway Duchess

“I don’t like to talk about it, you know that. I only told her in the hope of making her see her duty, of making hercare.” She sighed, shrugging her shoulders. “It didn’t work, I suppose. But that doesn’t matter, Edward. She wasn’t worthy of you, and that’s that.”

He opened his eyes, frowning. “Unworthy? She isn’t unworthy. I… I cared about her, Clarissa.”

Clarissa’s mouth tightened. “Well, clearly your feelings were not reciprocated. If they had been, if she had beenworthy, she wouldn’t have left, would she? For all her words about caring for you and Alex, she isn’t here, is she? What mother—even a stepmother—could leave a child behind?”

Edward shook his head, pushing away from the desk and turning his back to Clarissa. His legs still felt like jelly, and he braced himself against the mantelpiece, staring down into the empty grate.

“I’ve ruined everything,” he murmured, his voice barely louder than a breath. “How could I have made such a fool of myself?And of her, too. Of Daphne. I drove her away from the place that should have been her new home. She should have felt safe and happy here, but all I offered her was coldness and a sense that she was not welcome.”

Clarissa sucked in a breath. “She wasnotwelcome, Edward! Or have you forgotten? Sheplannedthis. She came here to trap you into marriage. This washerdoing.”

He sighed, shaking his head. “You know that’s not true, Clarissa. The whole business was an accident. Rather a funny one, I suppose, to an onlooker. It was as if the fates conspired to bring us together. If I believed in such things, of course. But then why should I not believe? The curse, after all, is very real. It killed my mother, and my wife, and drove away the woman I loved. I’d be a fool to believe that I wasnotcursed.”

There was a long silence after that, long enough that Edward began to believe that his stepmother must have tiptoed noiselessly out of the room. When he turned to look behind him, however, she was still standing there, bone-white, her hands interlocked tightly together.

“You are not cursed,” she managed. “Your wife… that is, Jane, was small and frail. The midwives were concerned about the birth even before the baby came. She wasunlucky, Edward. You both were. Jane knew the risks. She knew that she was not built for childbirth. But she did not care. You know how excited she was about the baby.”

He shook his head. “And what about my mother, then? What about her death? It was so sudden. Nobody expectedthat.”

“Edward—”

“Leave me, Clarissa, please. I’d rather be alone.”

She let out a frustrated sigh. “You’ve been alone a great deal until now, Edward. And do not dismiss me so brusquely. I am your mother, after all.”

“You are not my mother.”

He immediately regretted the words.

Clarissa rocked back on her heels, clearly taken aback. Guilt rushed through him like a river, and he took a step forward, taking her hand in his.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice quiet. “I should not be so sharp. You know me, Clarissa. My tongue runs away with me if I let it. The words spill out if I don’t keep my mouth shut. They did with Daphne, and now she’s left me. Forgive me, please.”

She bit her lip, glancing away. “You are forgiven, Edward. You’re always forgiven. I can deny you nothing. I… I’ll even write to Lady St. Maur if you like, and demand that she send her daughter back.”

He shook his head. “No, Clarissa. I won’t have my wife dragged back. If she chooses to leave me, she can do so.”

“But she is humiliating you by beingundutiful?—”

“She married me out of duty,” he interrupted. “She is a kind and dutiful woman, I know that. She was willing to marry an odious stranger to save her sister. She is full of love and forgiveness, and if I have gone through her store of patience and compassion, then that is my fault and mine alone.”

“I can have her fetched back,” Clarissa persisted. “As her husband, you have the right to?—”

“To what?” he said, with a short laugh. “I promised her she could live as a spinster. I can’t exactly go back on my word now. If she chooses to leave, that is her business. I will give her an allowance, and a house, perhaps.” He swallowed hard, tilting up his chin. “I hope she’ll agree to see Alex occasionally. He does adore her.”

Clarissa stared up at him, a frown marring her brow.

“Well, if you don’t want her back, then so much the better,” she said, at last.

You have no idea.I want her back. I want her back so badly that it hurts. If I think of her for too long, I ache. I want to hold her, touch her. Even being around her would be enough for me.

Unfortunately, I have ruined all of it for myself. And for Alex, too.

I truly am the worst father in the world. My father might have been a cruel wretch who resented me for taking away his wife, but at least he didn’t separate me from Clarissa.

Edward crossed the room to where the whiskey decanter sat on the side. He was faintly aware that he had been drinking too much lately, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to care. He poured a glass and threw it back, barely tasting the liquid as it burned down his throat.

“Perhaps it’s for the best,” he said aloud, pouring himself another glass. “After all, I killed my own mother just to start living. What sort of start is that? No wonder I’m cursed.”

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