Page 72 of Ravished By the Beastly Duke

Eveline wanted to tell him that it mattered, but she kept quiet instead.

“Growing up, I was all alone. I had no one to talk to save for the staff,” he said.

“I cannot possibly imagine how lonely that must have been,” Eveline murmured.

Even though she had grown up without a mother, she had her sisters. She could not imagine how childhood would have been if she did not have her sisters.

“And what made it worse, my father… he… my father wanted nothing to do with me,” William stammered.

Of course, Eveline knew there was more. However, she understood that it must be difficult for him to recount the experience.

“He despised the sight of me. It was almost as though I repulsed him. And more than anything, he blamed me for my mother’s death,” he said.

Eveline wanted to say something to comfort him, but she could not. The sadness in his voice broke her heart, and she knew that no word she uttered could give him relief.

“My father did not only despise me. He was also cruel, as he did not hesitate to use the rod on me at every turn for the slightest misgivings. It did not help that he drank heavily, so when he was drunk, he would even hit me for no reason. I was forbidden from locking the door to my room. On most nights, when my father staggered into the castle after a bender, he would come to my room and flog me mercilessly.”

Tears welled up in Eveline’s eyes as her heart broke for him again, but she blinked them away.

“The garden was my only refuge, as he refused to ever step here. But, of course, I could not possibly live in the garden forever. And for every time I sought refuge in the garden, he would simply double my beatings.”

“How could someone be so cruel even to his own son?” Eveline blurted out angrily.

William chuckled. “It is because I was his son that he did what he had done,” he said. “He was simply grieving the death of his beloved wife.”

“And yet the only way he could honor his wife’s memory was by torturing her offspring?” Eveline scoffed.

For the first time since William started speaking, he turned to look at her.

Her words seemed to have struck a chord inside him.

“But he was not a bad man,” William countered.

Eveline could see the confusion written all over his face.

“That is the only reason anyone would do such horrible things to a little child who cannot defend himself,” she maintained.

“But he was overcome by grief,” William pointed out. “Grief makes people do horrible things. My father loved my mother with all his heart, but her death changed him.”

Eveline nodded. Even though she did not agree with him, she knew that arguing with him would not yield any results.

“My young days were lonely and torturous, and the only respite I had was when we had to attend events. My father would embody a widower perfectly. I can remember the old ladies’ fascination with me. They would praise my father for how amazing it was that he raised me all by himself.”

“And he would receive all the praise?” Eveline asked, even though she already knew the answer.

“Certainly. In fact, he relished it. And he enjoyed the attention he got from the old spinsters. Then, the moment we left the party and got into the carriage, he would start to scold me even if I had only made one slight mistake. If he was in a foul mood, he would flog me when we returned home.

“If he was in a good mood, he would let me go with only a scolding. There were days when I would lie awake, wishing that he would take one of them as a wife so I would finally have someone who would protect me from his wrath. But he never did. It was only me and him for so long.”

“And nobody knew?”

“One of my mother’s sisters would often visit. However, when she began to suspect the abuse because of my constant sickness, my father forbade her from coming back.”

Eveline shook her head. The man was truly a monster.

But she knew William would never want to hear that.

“I was sickly as a boy, and instead of receiving my father’s care and affection, all I received was ridicule and, sometimes, even more beating. On one of those days, when I was terribly sick, my father had a guest. He had instructed me to dress up smartly to welcome his guest. However, I could not get dressed fast enough before his guest arrived. After all, I was unwell.”

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