Page 71 of A Bride for the Wicked Duke

He waited for her to respond, expecting a rebuke. Rather, she sniffed but said nothing, which he took as her accepting his offer.

“You were too young to remember our father,” he started again, careful not to sound as if he was trying to shift the blame. “In some ways, I am grateful for that. Where I won’t deny how much we owe him, myself especially, he was not the center of morality and propriety I like to pretend. He was a gambling addict, Rosalind. And it wasn’t until after he died that I learned the true depths of just how far he had sunk in his final years.”

Rosalind shifted slightly and he waited for her to speak, but she said nothing. Still, he noticed her relaxing slightly as she accepted his words.

“We were in debt,” he continued, sitting now on the end of Rosalind’s bed but careful not to touch her. “A debt which I couldn’t possibly cover myself – not with what our father left us. To help free ourselves from this debt…” He grimaced. “I was forced to work with some men whom it is no exaggeration to say are the scourge of London’s soul. Debt collectors, mostly. The type of men who care only for money, with no regard for how their actions ruin the lives of those who owe it.” He sighed and shook his head to himself as memories of the things he was forced to do came back to him. Actions which shamed him, even to this day. “I suppose working with them is why I try so hard now to be what I am – as if I need to prove that the version of me during those years wasn’t my true self.”

“And is it?” Rosalind asked, a slight bite to her tone.

“Of course not.”

“Yet you still work for them…”

“They work for me,” he said. “I managed to work my way out of debt, and then I bought the same gaming house to which I had been indebted. You might be wondering why I did it…” He trailed off as he remembered that moment for what it was, a thinly veiled excuse to do something good, knowing that in reality it was done to shield himself and his family. “I told myself it was to protect people. Absurd, I know,” he scoffed. “That if I was in control I might be able to stop the terrible things from happening.”

“And did you…” She sniffed.

“No,” he said truthfully. “There was no stopping it. Where money is involved, the worst always comes out. In myself included. It wasn’t until much later that I was ready to admit that my true reason for buying that gaming house was to protect myself, not others. And I hated myself for it…” Slowly, he reached out, resting a hand on Rosalind’s leg. She did not pull away, which he took as a good sign. “I still do hate myself for it.”

“Then why?” Rosalind sat up suddenly and turned around. Her eyes were stained red. Her cheeks too, coated in tears and still dripping. She wasn’t angry, he could see that now. Rather, she was disappointed, which stung even worse. “Why do you still do it? Why not… not sell it? Give it away?”

“It’s not that simple.”

“It is!” she cried. “For my entire life, Gerald, you have pretended to be this… this bastion of goodness. The perfect son, an emblem of what it means to be a member of the peerage. Everywhere we go, people look up to you. They respect you. But it is all a lie!”

“I know.”

“And what of me?” she hissed. “I am the same. Even those times where I hated how you forced me to act, I did so, knowing that you would do the same were you in my shoes. All I ever wanted…” She sniffed, and her chin began to wobble. “Was for you to think that I was worthy of you and your love.”

“You are, Rosalind,” he said, shuffling closer. “Of course you are. Don’t ever think otherwise.”

“Does it matter?” she shot back. “If you are not what you say. Is everything a lie?”

He bowed his head with shame. “I have lived two lives, Rosalind. And it is only now that I am coming to terms with that. How I have treated you, how you see me…” He fixed her with a determined look. “That was never a lie. It is the other side of me which is.”

“But is it? Or is this the lie and that is the real you?”

He winced, because even he could not say. He wanted to believe that he was good and righteous and someone worth looking up to.But how can I want such a thing when my actions are not worthy of this?“I don’t know…” His voice dropped and he kept his head bowed. “Is that what you want to hear? That I don’t even know who I am anymore or what I want.”

“Are you happy?” Rosalind asked, a question which caught him by surprise.

“Wh… what?” He looked up to find her watching him; her brow was furrowed, her eyes were wide, and the look she held was filled with pain.

“Are you happy?” she asked again. “The gaming house? Or this version of you? Which one makes you the happiest?”

“I…” Gerald hesitated as he considered the question, only to crash when the answer came to him. “Neither,” he admitted, for what was the first time. “Neither make me happy. And that is the truth.”

“Gerald…” She sniffed and shuffled closer. He moved to her, taking her hands which she pulled into her chest. “I do not hate you for your lies, I need you to know that.”

“You have every right to.”

“No.” She shook her head. “What I hate is to think that after everything you have done, even the lies, you still cannot find happiness. That is sadder than anything. Why bother pretending to be someone else if you do not wish to?”

“Because it is the right thing to do.”

“Is it?” she pressed on him. “Says who? Why is this version more right than the other? Why does either matter if you hate yourself for it.”

“I…” He searched her eyes as if for the answer, unable to find one because there was no answer that would satisfy. “I do it because…. Because I have no choice.”

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