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Chapter Twenty-three

For two days after his confession to Serena, Rowan locked himself away in his chambers, refusing to come out or to allow anyone inside. He had returned to the ball after Serena had fled, telling the guests a lie about Serena having fallen suddenly ill and apologetically announcing that the party would have to conclude early. He had intended to speak with her the following morning, but he awoke to the news that Serena had left in the early hours, stating only that she was returning to stay with her family. Rowan’s heart, the parts that were just beginning to heal, shattered, and he had remained in his chambers ever since.

On the third day, tired of his mother’s inquiries about Serena’s sudden departure and the abrupt ending to the ball, he slipped out of his quarters well before dawn, stealing away to his study, locking himself in there as he had in his chambers. He issued orders to both Adrian and Lawrence that no one was to be permitted entrance to the study, not even the staff, unless he himself ordered otherwise.

The fourth and fifth days passed in a blur of drinking and dozing at his desk. All his duties went neglected and his responsibilities went ignored. He could think of nothing but the haunting image of Serena’s hurt and confused expression, his agony refreshing as it played in his mind on a relentless loop. Fear had replaced the guilt that he had felt up until the week prior, fear that he had lost his wife forever. And atop that fear was the realization of how much pain he had caused her. He had married her to protect her, as he had promised her mother. And now, he had become the very person from whom she needed protecting.

The fifth day began much as the previous two, with himpouring himself a drink as soon as he was conscious enough to recall the betrayal in Serena’s eyes. He spent as much time staring at the glass as he did drinking from it, wishing there was enough of the amber liquid in the world to erase her pained expression from his memory. But like the look of angry disappointment in his father’s eyes before he stormed from that very study the day he died, it would be a memory he would carry with him forever.

Toward the end of that same day, there was a loud knock on the door. Rowan ignored it, mentally reminding himself to lecture Adrian and Lawrence for not obeying his orders. But the knock came again and again, and at last, he rose from his chair, swaying on his feet as he approached the still locked door.

“Leave me,” he growled, throwing himself against the door in an attempt at intimidation. He was a naturally passive man. But in that moment, he was a feral animal who would not abide being approached.

“I will not,” said his mother. The oak door was thick and muffled nearly all the sounds that happened on the other side of it. But his mother was speaking with such staccato authority that her every word came through clearly. “Let me in, Rowan. This has gone on long enough.”

Rowan sighed. His mother was the last person with whom he wished to speak. But he knew that she would not let him rest until he relented. Too tired and weak to resist, he unlocked the door, swinging it open for her. The dowager took one look at her son and the firm, agitated expression she had been wearing softened to a look of grave concern.

“Rowan,” she said, reaching out to him.

Rowan stepped back, allowing his mother passage into the room. He went back to his chair, flopping down and returning to his drink.

“Rowan, what has happened?” she asked. “I have not seenyour face since Serena left. And I still do not know why she did.”

Rowan sighed.

“Mother, this does not concern you,” he said.

The dowager narrowed her eyes, planting herself in the seat across from him and meeting his gaze with a firm, fiery one.

“I beg to differ,” she said. “Serena is my family now, too. And you are my son. And I have every right to know what is happening, especially since I have been peppered with questions regarding Serena’s health and the unorthodox sudden end to the ball honouring her.”

Rowan shook his head.

“There is no simple answer to it, Mother,” he said. “And I do not wish to discuss it with you right now. Now, leave me.”

The dowager was silent for a long moment, and Rowan thought that meant she would leave. But instead, she lifted her chin and stared intently at Rowan.

“I will not leave this study until you tell me what has happened,” she said. “Believe it or not, Rowan, I love you. And I love Serena, as well. I care about what happens to the two of you. But nothing can be resolved without some effort.”

Rowan glanced up at his mother. Her jaw was set, and her lips were tight, but her eyes told him that what she said was true. She cared. He did not wish to discuss the matter with her. But perhaps, he needed to.

As briefly as he could, he gave to her the same confession he had given to Serena. He told her about his encounter with Lady Caroline and the vow he made to marry Serena and take care of her after Lady Caroline’s unfortunate passing. He told her about the guilt he had harbored since his father’s death, particularly because of the argument they had had. He even told the dowager how broken and unfit he had felt in the years since the late duke’s death. He went as far as telling her how he felt that she blamed him for his father’s death, as well, and howhe had kept his distance, for fear of making her hate him even more. His mother listened to everything he confessed wearing an expression of understanding and compassion.

“As to why Serena left,” he said, wiping sweat from his brow. “She is understandably wounded by the secrets I kept from her. She fled because I betrayed her. And now, I fear she may never return.”

Eleanor nodded, reaching for her son’s cheek. Rowan thought she only meant to cup his face. But when she withdrew her hand, it was wet with tears.

“I wish you had come to me with these feelings long ago, sweetheart,” she said. Her voice was steady, but there was the faintest shimmer to her eyes, and Rowan recognized it as the mist before tears fully formed. “But I can understand why you felt that you could not. I knew of your argument with him, as he mentioned it to me as he stormed out of the manor that day. I suppose that if I had told you that I knew, that might have spared you a great deal of suffering. I was aware of the rift growing between us, and I said nothing. So, I fear that I am mostly to blame for quite a bit of your guilt.”

Rowan shook his head, looking at his mother with surprise.

“How could you be to blame?” he asked. “I am the one who was responsible for Father’s death. You were only behaving the way any grieving widow would toward the person who had taken her husband from her.”

The dowager winced, and Rowan thought he had made a mistake by saying what he had said. But his mother reached out and took his hand, giving him a gentle shake of his head.

“No, darling,” she said. “You must not continue to think those things. While I admit that at first, I was bitter about Roger’s death, I never blamed you. Your father made his own choices. He always did, no matter what the situation. Sometimes, I was sure he made choices just to spite the otherchoices available. But you are not in any way to blame for his death. You did not put him out on that boat. You did not cause that storm. And you cannot hold yourself accountable for not knowing that there would not be another day to rectify things with him.”

Rowan stared at his mother, dumbfounded. After so many years of being certain that his mother hated him, she was absolving him of so much guilt. And yet, he did not understand. How could she stomach the sight of him? How did she think that he was not responsible for the death of his father?