Page 42 of Honeythorn
Milan waited.
“My previous husband…was not a good man.”
Of all the things Lord Raphael could have said, that was not what Milan was expecting. He opened his mouth but thought better of interrupting. The truth was…Lord Raphael did not look well. Not only due to fatigue—he was hunched over himself, eyes lost.
Milan let him tell his story.
“As you know, my marriage to Jack was arranged, just like this one, but I quickly fell in love.”
Milan ignored the numbing jolt of pain that went through him.
“Jack was…charming. He was funny, witty. He would keep me on my toes. You have said before that I wish for a docile Omega, but that is not at all the case. Quite the opposite. As a foolish boy, I would dream of a love just like the one I thought I had. Someone who would challenge me. Who would make me better. But Jack…Jack did not make me better.”
Milan watched Raphael’s face contort in the sort of pain that was deep and old.
“I must admit that I was happy, for a while, but I soon discovered that no man can hide their true nature for long. Slowly, Jack revealed himself to be ruthless. Cruel. That charm—it was a tool he used for his own gain. The way I fell in love was not organic, but premeditated by him. Our coming together was not just chance—he had picked me.”
“Picked you? He influenced the arranged marriage?” Milan asked, a little incredulous. Raphael laughed humourlessly.
“It sounds absurd, doesn’t it? You and I know what unmovable powers decide who weds and to whom. Of course, it was much later that I found out how talented he is in the art of manipulation.”
Milan felt a little sick to his stomach. If Lord Raphael was being truthful, this could be verified. Why lie about something like that?
“You will think me pathetic, for what Alpha is taken advantage of by their Omega? Some think it impossible. But Jack…all he sought was to slice the spirit out of me with such small cuts that I didn’t know it was happening until it was too late. Every word, every action, it became…”
Milan’s stomach roiled. Lord Raphael’s voice—Dr. Kensington was right. No one was that good an actor. And yet Lord Raphael went on as if he were purging himself. As if, now that he had started, he was unable to stop.
“Will you believe that there came a point that all I wanted to do was please him? Everything I did, even if it was exactly what he asked for, was flawed. I was flawed. And even as I noticed the decay of my soul, I believed every word that came out of his mouth. I did not see the truth. When he convinced me to fire my accountant and hire one of his choosing, I did so. When he started becoming overly involved in the business of the estate and it started declining, I did not blame him. I was afool,” Lord Raphael spit out.
Milan couldn’t help but tighten his hand around Lord Raphael’s, but it only made him flinch.
“His touch, his—even when I did not want—” Raphael took a heaving, panicked breath.
Milan covered his mouth with his free hand. An image of their first and only night together—the strange moment when Lord Raphael had tensed and paused when Milan had kissed his neck. At the time, Milan had thought it was due to pleasure. He had not even considered that Lord Raphael would be as frightened and unsure as Milan himself had been.
“And the bond. Thebond. No. I do not know what a healthy bond feels like, for he only used it to manipulate me, to…”
Milan could see that Lord Raphael was shaking now. He wanted to stop him but knew it would be unwise. Lord Raphael did not even seem conscious of Milan’s presence anymore. The library had been filled with ghosts, and they were all Lord Raphael seemed to see.
“It was not until that trip—I could not understand why Jack was so against me going. But, of course, he knew what time and distance would do. His honeyed tongue, the sway of the bond—once that was removed, it was like waking from a nightmare. I could not believe…it was as if someone else had been living in my skin for years. I contacted my associates, and indeed, my suspicions were correct. Jack and that ‘accountant’ were swindling money from the estate. The villagers, the workers…they were paying the price whilst I let myself drift in a fog. With the evidence I had, and thanks to Orson and Ingrid—the only ones in my current staff that were there then—I was able to throw him out. I haven’t seen him since.”
Milan sat, stunned. He could not speak. His mind was reeling. Slowly, Lord Raphael seemed to come back to himself. He looked at Milan, his face flushing suddenly.
“I’m sorry. I-I know that may have been a lot to take in. I just…I knew if I stopped…”
“I understand. Lord Raphael…”
“Milan.” Lord Raphael’s hand, having gone limp, clutched his again. “Please, know that I do not tell you this to seek your forgiveness, for I don’t deserve it. All I want is for you to know that I will never—I will never…the suffering I have put you through…”
Milan choked on a breath. He didn’t know whether to comfort Lord Raphael or to agree.
“When the marriage arrangement to you was pressed upon me, I thought I could do it. Or, at least, I wanted to. I was selfish. I wanted to prove to myself that I was not ruined by him. Instead, I became a replica of his cruelty.”
That, at least, Milan knew was not true. “Do not say that. Whatever your actions brought, they did notintendto harm me.” It was only as Milan said it that he realised he had been swayed by Lord Raphael’s story.
Lord Raphael shook his head. “What does that matter? What does it matter, what my intentions were? Whether I did it intentionally or not, you suffered just the same. Even if I didn’t know exactly how much I was harming you, Iknewthat you were miserable. That you were alone and that I was foiling your every attempt to make a home here. I showed you nothing but disdain and mistrust when you…”
Lord Raphael covered his eyes with a trembling hand. Milan was again struck speechless. He felt, after all that had just been revealed, that he should defend Lord Raphael, but how, when it was the truth?
