Page 81 of His Scarred Duchess
But his feet remained rooted to the spot, paralyzed by years of carefully constructed defenses.
Outside in the hallway, Adeline leaned against the wall, one hand pressed to her mouth to stifle her sobs. She had laid her heart bare, and Edmund had all but crushed it beneath his heel.
She pushed off the wall, stumbling towards her chambers. Her mind raced, replaying every moment of their argument.
How could she have been so foolish? To think that someone like Edmund could ever truly love someone like her?
As she closed her bedroom door behind her, her resolve hardened. She couldn’t stay here, couldn’t continue this charade of a marriage. Not when every moment in Edmund’s presence was a reminder of what she could never have.
With shaking hands, she began to pack a small valise. She would go to her father’s house, she decided. Isabella would be there, would offer her comfort until she could figure out what to do next.
As she folded a simple day dress, a knock sounded at her door. Adeline froze, her heart leaping into her throat.
“Adeline?” Edmund’s voice was muffled through the wood. “Please, can we talk?”
She squeezed her eyes shut, willing away the surge of hope that threatened to overtake her. “There’s nothing left to say, Your Grace.”
A pause, then, “I disagree. Please, open the door.”
Adeline’s hand hovered over the doorknob. Part of her longed to fling it open, to fall into Edmund’s arms and forget this nightmare of an evening had ever happened.
But the memory of his cold dismissal, of the disgust she imagined in his eyes when he looked at her scars, held her back.
“Goodnight, Edmund,” she called, her voice steadier than she felt. “I think it’s best if we both get some rest.”
She heard a soft thud, as if he had rested his forehead against the door. “Adeline, please. I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean?—”
“It doesn’t matter what you meant,” she interrupted, her voice cracking. “Your actions speak loudly enough. Now please, leave me be.”
Another long pause, then the sound of retreating footsteps.
Adeline sank onto the edge of her bed, her legs no longer able to support her. Her tears flowed freely now, soaking into the delicate silk of her ball gown.
How had everything gone so wrong? Just hours ago, she had been dancing in Edmund’s arms, her heart full of hope for their future together. And now…
She glanced at the half-packed valise, a wave of exhaustion washing over her. Perhaps going to her father’s house was not the answer, not yet. She needed time to think, to plan her next move carefully.
With a heavy sigh, Adeline rose and began to undress. She would sleep on it, she decided. In the morning, she would decide with a clear head what to do.
But as she lay in bed, staring at the canopy above, she knew sleep would elude her. The memory of Edmund’s face, of the pain and fear she had glimpsed beneath his mask of indifference, haunted her.
Oh, Edmund.What happened to make you so afraid of love?
Chapter Thirty
“Thornley, I need a carriage prepared immediately,” Adeline said, her voice steady despite the turmoil in her heart.
The butler’s eyebrows rose slightly, but his composure remained impeccable. “Of course, Your Grace. Might I inquire as to your destination?”
Adeline hesitated, her hand tightening on the handle of her valise. “London. My father’s townhouse.”
Thornley’s eyes flicked to the packed bag, then back to her face. “I see. And shall I inform His Grace of your departure?”
“That won’t be necessary,” Adeline replied, perhaps too quickly. “I’m sure the Duke has more pressing matters to attend to.”
A hint of concern crossed Thornley’s face. “Your Grace, forgive me, but are you certain?—”
“Please, Thornley,” Adeline interrupted, her composure cracking slightly. “Just… have the carriage prepared.”
