Page 121 of An Unwanted Spinster for the Duke
“I’ll be waiting in the hallway. Don’t make me come back here,” Dominic warned, jabbing a finger at him in warning.
He then left and closed the door behind him, leaving Marianne alone with her father.
There was silence at first, and at that moment, Marianne thought she could actually hear her heart break. She stared at her father, who looked defeated for the first time. Gone was the ramrod-straight back. Instead, he slumped in his chair, looking even older than his years.
When he glanced back at her, he still looked angry, but there was something else there. Sadness? All she could see was that the venom that often accompanied his outbursts was absent.
He merely looked like an old, lonely man.
“You don’t understand, Marianne. You never did,” he muttered, sounding resigned. His eyes seemed to take on a faraway look.
“I understand perfectly,” she snapped. “You view my sisters and me as burdens. You care so little for us that you would readily marry Elizabeth off to a murderer and more. He was even worse than you’ve ever heard so far today.”
Her father muttered something under his breath. It could be a curse, or it could be an admission. Marianne did not hear, but she identified his guilt as he struggled to meet her eyes.
She leaned in, and softly but sharply said, “You have done what is easiest for you. You let him in. But then again, before he even came along, you kept my sisters in this house of horrors.Prisoners. We might not have been shackled, but we never had real choices, and we lived in fear under your cane.”
Her father looked down at his lap, his back still hunched. He looked ashamed, but he remained silent.
“I’m leaving now, Father,” Marianne declared as he turned on her heel, heading for the door. “This is the last time I’ll ever speak to you. If you ever change, it won’t be for me.”
She slammed the door shut. She knew what he looked like behind it—defeated and discouraged—but she wouldn’t go inside to comfort him. He needed to learn his lesson first.
Later that day, the sisters were at Oakmere Hall. The twins were playing with the hounds, laughing as Achilles and Beowulf chased them around.
Dominic smiled softly at the scene. It was how he had always wanted his home to be—peaceful, animated. He had been alone for so long.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Elizabeth approaching. He gave her an encouraging nod, remembering how she used to be afraid of his shadow.
“I don’t know how we can ever repay you,” she said.
He shook his head reassuringly. “There is no need. You can stay here for as long as you need.”
That earned him a shy smile.
“And Elizabeth?” he added. “I should be thanking your family for everything you’ve done for me.”
He meant every word. He had been lost in a limbo created by his family. He had always been alone, except for Simon, who thankfully did not get offended by his regularly sour looks.
“It’s your family now, too,” she said and then left him there standing.
Wilhelmina followed her sister but not before nodding to him. The look of gratitude was clear. Those sparkling eyes. The easy smile, unburdened with worries.
There was one last thing to do, and it was the most important thing he ever had to do.
He walked toward his wife, who was petting Serafina while Perseus stood next to her companionably. She looked like a goddess of nature, at home in the gardens with the animals. She was also like a mother to her sisters.
A mother.
His chest clenched at the thought of children running in the gardens, yelling. Playing. Bursting with love.
“Marianne, please meet me in your bedchamber,” he said softly.
She looked up at him. At first, there was uncertainty—a look that made him feel deep regret for hurting her. Then, there was something flitting that he could not read.
Whatever it was, she still managed to nod and rise from her comfortable place with her beloved animals.
“Very well. For what?” she asked evenly.
