Page 81 of A Cursed Bride for the Duke
Kenneth’s words hit him like a blow. He had never allowed himself to think of Kenneth as anything more than an ally—someone he worked with or shared a drink with on occasion, but nothing more. Their relationship had always been transactional, based on mutual gain, and Wilhelm had purposely kept it that way.
But now, as the impact of Kenneth’s words struck him like a blow, realization dawned on him. The loyalty Kenneth had shown, the way he had stood by him through everything…
Kenneth had never given him any reason to question his loyalty. If he was being honest with himself, he had come to care for Kenneth in his own way.
Wilhelm recoiled as the thought crossed his mind. He did not allow himself the luxury of calling anyone a friend. He could not afford to be vulnerable. Not after everything that had happened with?—
His head snapped up as everything suddenly became clear to him.
Alfred.
His eyes met Kenneth’s, widening in surprise as another realization dawned on him.
“Kenneth,” Wilhelm began, his voice filled with regret. “Was Shelton present at the ball that Genevieve attended?”
Kenneth nodded, his brow furrowed with concern. “He was, indeed,” he confirmed, “But how is that relevant now? You need to win back your wife!”
Wilhelm closed his eyes as the missing pieces of the puzzle fell into place. Alfred had sought to ruin their relationship and drive Genevieve away from him.
And he had once again succeeded.
“Kenneth,” Wilhelm said before he swallowed thickly. “I… I owe you an apology. I misjudged you, doubted your loyalty. I am terribly sorry.”
Kenneth blinked in utter shock. “You are… sorry?”
“Yes, I am. I am sorry, my friend. You are right. About everything,” Wilhelm admitted, despite the uncomfortable sensation in his chest.
“Allow me to recapitulate. You, the great Duke of Ravenshire, are not only saying you are sorry, but you are also admitting you were wrong? And on top of that, you called me a friend?” Kenneth responded, his eyebrows raised.
Wilhelm clenched his jaw, but he nodded slowly. “Yes,” he hissed.
“Huh,” Kenneth breathed with a wide grin. “Me, a humble marquess, your friend?”
“Do not test my patience, Gaverton.”
“That isn’t very friendly of you, Your Grace,” Kenneth teased.
“Gaverton,” Wilhelm hissed in warning.
Kenneth chuckled. “All right, all right. It was a little jest, pardon me. Myfriend.” His voice grew warm at the end.
Somehow, that warmth managed to seep into Wilhelm.
Grown soft, haven’t we?
He could hear his father’s voice in his head. But he swiftly silenced it.
He was done listening to a dead man.
Besides, he had more pressing matters to attend to.
“Yes, yes,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a wife to fetch.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Faster,” Wilhelm growled, his voice as sharp as steel.
His heels dug into his stallion’s flanks, the powerful beast surging forward beneath him.
