Page 87 of A Bride for the Devilish Duke
“You already saw him,” he muttered, voice clipped. “And yet you come to me asking what you already know.”
“I know what I saw,” she replied, trailing him desperately, “but I do not know what it means. And I would like to hear it from your mouth, not in riddles.”
He stopped walking. Turned.
“Was anyone else with you?”
Emma’s eyes narrowed. “Pardon?”
“When you went up there.” His tone had cooled further. “Did you go alone? Did anyone else see you? The maid who told you—who was it? Did she follow?”
Her eyes widened, incredulous. “Good God, Damien. There is a man up there. Dying. By the looks of it, your brother too. Is whether I brought an audience with me what is important right now?”
He flinched at that—barely, but enough.
“So it is true,” she breathed brittly. “He is your brother.”
Silence.
“Answer me.”
Damien’s hand raked through his hair as he pivoted away, muttering something she couldn’t catch. His whole body wastaut, as though he were holding back the desire to run or shout or strike something.
“Yes.” The answer when it finally came was low. “His name is Harold. He is… my older brother and the rightful heir to Redmane.”
Emma felt the air leave her body. “I... I do not understand.Youare Duke of Redmane. The Regent acknowledges you as such. As do all, except the twins.”
Again, only silence.
“Damien—” she tried.
But he moved again, back toward the manor.
“I need to see him.”
Emma followed, faster now. “No. Not until you tell me why you have your brother imprisoned in your tower!”
Her accusatory tone had him rooted in his tracks. He reached for her arm and she pulled away. His hand remained raised in empty air, grasping at nothing.
“Do you now fear me?” he asked.
Emma searched her heart. That man had been living in secret and in ill health in a part of Redmane Manor that was kept hidden from all. He seemed to be a prisoner and Damien was the only person who could be holding him.
Holding his older brother prisoner so that he can claim the Dukedom? I cannot believe it!
Emma felt her world tremble from the revelation. Felt the beginnings of everything that she had only just begun to rely upon crumbling, leaving her with no foundation to stand.
Just what kind of man had she left her family reliant upon?
She took a deep breath, convincing herself that if she had faith in anything, it was in the man before her. She did not know all of his secrets but she had faith regardless. Faith born of love.
“No, I… I do not fear you,” she murmured, stepping close to him and putting a hand to his chest. “But please, help me understand. Why is Harold imprisoned like a ghost in the tower?”
He met her gaze, unflinching. “Because that’s how he prefers it.”
“No man prefers it,” she said sharply. “Not a man who collapses to the floor and cannot rise. Why? Why would anyone—?”
“Because he couldn’t bear the weight of that godforsaken title!” Damien snapped bitterly. “Not since that damned fire. Because Igave him my word that no one would know. That I would carry the burden so he would not have to.”
