Page 53 of His Abandoned Duchess

Chapter Twenty-Three

“Icannot believe I am about to do this.”

Amelia spoke to herself in the privacy of her bedroom. It had been another day within Heartwick where she was treated to avoidance by her husband. He had not come down for breakfast or dinner at any time, and she herself had fled to Charlotte’s again this morning.

The two of them had discussed her situation once more, and her friend was still of the mind that Amelia should discuss this with the Duke. It had taken every ounce of courage she possessed to set her mind to telling Richard of her feelings, but as she stood outside his door, Amelia was not sure if she could go through with it.

This is a fool’s errand, Amelia. You are already aware of the Duke’s decision. He is not going to suddenly change his mind because you plaster him with words of affection.

Still, it was what Amelia wanted. She wished so much for Richard to hear her words and reveal that the departure had been a terrible miscommunication between them. Fantasies of him wrapping his arms around her as he kissed her senseless bloomed behind the lids she squeezed shut.

It was daft. He was as unlikely to do as such as she was to find another match in Magnus or Isaac. Amelia had spent enough time with the male animal that she was confident a suitable partner for her did not exist. She had been content enough to live as an untouched wife, even as she still longed for more, but it was impossible.

After everything that had occurred between them, it appeared that Amelia was still correct on that front. She sighed, hanging her head as she laid the flat of her palm on the wood before her.

Do this. You must. You will live a life of regret if you do not at the least tell the man of your true feelings.

Amelia straightened her spine, shaking herself as she looked directly forward at the door, and rapped her knuckles against it in a soft knock.

The floorboards creaked within Richard’s chambers, and Amelia’s stomach threatened to upend its content onto her feet. Then, the door opened, and her husband stood before her with a questioning brow raising above his left eye.

“Amelia? Is there something ill at ease? Do you require my assistance?”

She shook her head, flicking her eyes from where her fingers knotted together to Richard’s icy blue eyes.

“No. Apologies. I only wished…I only wished to speak with you if I might. Would you permit me to come in?”

The Duke ducked his chin in toward himself, his brows pinching together. “I am about to rest, Amelia. Can this not wait until the morning?”

“I am afraid it cannot. You will make your departure shortly after breakfast tomorrow, and if I cannot say these words now, I fear they will remain locked within me forever.”

Something flickered behind Richard’s eyes, and Amelia felt her pulse jump in her neck. Breathing, even standing, was a task nearly too great for her, and Amelia silently begged for the Duke to allow her in.

“Umm,” Richard looked down between them with a sigh, then back up at her, “for a moment.”

He stepped aside, gesturing into the room with a sweep of his hand.

“Thank you, Richard.”

Amelia’s stare combed over the space. It was different for the Duke being in it. She had used the room herself, but the walls were not those same walls, and it existed with a fragrance thatwas no longer of her perfumes or fine linens. It was touched with leather and cologne, a deeper and richer scent than her own.

After a moment, she turned around, her back now toward the fireplace as Richard continued to stand in front of the door.

“What is it that you sought me out for, Amelia?”

It was a simple enough question, and she parted her lips to give an honest answer. But no sound came from her. Amelia could only think of all the things around her—the smells, the way the buttery yellow of the intricately striped wallpaper looked duller, somehow stale, and the traveling bag that was seated near the wardrobe.

Amelia could see into the chest slightly as one of its doors was cracked open. Richard’s clothes did not hang inside as they had. It was an empty expanse of darkness contained behind slim panels of highly detailed carved wood.

He was leaving. It was very obvious to Amelia that Richard would not be with the walls of Heartwick when she looked at his wardrobe. How long, she wondered, would it take for the smell of his shaving crème and toilet water to fade? When would she stop thinking of them and missing the way the strong fragrance invaded her nose?

“You are packed, I see. Your journey to Blackford will be a swift one, it appears.”

Richard nodded. “I am ready. It should take less than a few minutes to place my things into the carriage and set off.”

How quickly the Duke was able to extract himself from life at Heartwick. So very different than the indelible stain he had already left on her heart.

“You…I am sure that you have business to attend to when you are there. Blackford likely needs reassessment to account for your absence.”

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