Page 71 of Caught With the Scarred Duke
“Nothing has happened,” Cyrus replied tersely.
Silas clicked his tongue. “Evidently, it has, or you would not have locked yourself away here. And your wife would not be at Grayling House, far away from you.”
“The gardener did not give an explanation,” Anthony added. “Rather, he said there was none.”
Cyrus considered pouring himself a fresh drink. “It is where she is safest.” He clawed a hand through his hair. “Far from me is where she is safest.”
“Ridiculous.” Silas sniffed, getting up from the armchair to stoke the fire that had dwindled down to the embers, adding a log. “How can she be safe if she is not within your sight?”
Anthony raised his hand. “A better question would be, what sort of danger could she possibly get into? I realized I was mistaken about her when I met her, calling her dull and all that, but I hardly think she is the type to seek out trouble. Or are you about to tell us that, in secret, she enjoys dangerous pastimes? Does she race horses or something?”
“She… walks,” Cyrus replied, frowning as he watched Silas prod and poke at the fire.
Anthony gasped dramatically. “Oh, heavens no! Notwalking! Goodness, it is a wonder she is still alive.”
“I shall have you know that she fell!” Cyrus snapped, his head whipping around to glare at Anthony. “She fell and… I thought she was dead. You cannot possibly imagine what that felt like, so do not suppose you know anything about it.”
“Ah…” Silas said softly, sitting back on his haunches. “There it is.”
Anthony quirked an eyebrow. “What? What did I miss?”
Silas dusted his hands and rose to his feet, returning to the armchair. “Cyrus is here, alone in this dim lodge, because he is afraid.” He flashed Cyrus a pointed look. “He is afraid that hewill lose her and that history will repeat. And so, I suspect, he has put distance between them, because he thinks that will give him some manner of control. When, of course, that is nonsense.”
“It is not about control,” Cyrus rasped. “Thereisno controlling what fate does.”
“So, why are you here?” Silas reached for a bottle with a mouthful of brandy left in it and drank it down. “Why are you not savoring every bit of life you can get with your wife? Why are you not out there making the most extraordinary memories? And what of her—does she not get a choice?”
Cyrus shook his head.
“Then you are a fool,” Silas said, sighing. “If she was told tomorrow that she had but a month to live, do you think she would hide herself away? Or do you think she would make every day worthwhile with the people she loves?”
Cyrus hesitated. “I… do not know. You would have to ask her.”
“Very well, what wouldyoudo?” Silas challenged. “If the Lord Himself came down from the heavens and told you that you had a month to live, Iknow,without a doubt, that you would not be wasting a moment here. After all, if everything was already pre-ordained, you would have no fear about what may or may not happen.Thatis what is keeping you in this lodge, drinking yourself into a stupor, pushing that sweet woman away—the fear of not-knowing, and not being able to control the future.”
Anthony nodded sympathetically. “And that is no way to live, Darnley. That is not living at all.” He blew a nervous breath through his nose. “I have held my tongue on the matter for years, respecting your right to bury your past, but I really do think it is time you stopped… punishing yourself. You survived that fire for a reason, old boy.”
“I survived by accident,” Cyrus countered.
Silas shook his head. “No, you survived because you wanted to live… and then you did nothing with that gift. You hid yourself away, you spoke only to us, and you kept the world out.” He sat up straighter. “I am sorry to tell you, my good man, but those days are over. The world has come in, the walls have been breached, and youmustchoose to live now. Withher.”
“And do not pretend that is something you do not desire,” Anthony added with a wry grin, “because a man does not drinkthismuch liquor if they do not care. Let me tell you, no amount of brandy will make you forget her, if your heart is already hers.”
Silas laughed quietly. “I cannot believe it, but I am in agreement with Anthony.” He paused, smiling. “Do you love her, Darnley?”
“It does not matter if I do,” Cyrus replied.
“Do you love her?” Silas repeated, his voice more stern.
Cyrus looked toward the fireplace, watching the feeble flames begin to strengthen, licking around the new log. “Yes… With allmy heart, yes.” His voice hitched, his hand resting on his chest. “It is like I have… tried to cut her out of me, and I am bleeding to death.”
“Then mend things,” Silas said in earnest. “Go to her and mend things.”
“I was cruel,” Cyrus replied, his heart aching. “There can be no mending the injury I have caused. All I can do is wait until I forget her.”
Anthony shot to his feet. “Right, I have heard quite enough! Darnley, you are to eat toast and drink tea until you are sober, and then you are to ride to your wife and apologize—beg, if you must—until she agrees to return home with you. I did not mind it when you were a hermit by choice, for that was your prerogative, but this is not your choice, nor is it your wife’s.”
“Grief twisted your father, greed twisted your grandfather,” Silas interjected. “Do not let idiocy and fear be the thing that twists you, forthatis how history repeats itself—when the next generation does nothing different to the one before.”
