Page 57 of A Duke But No Gentleman
She sighed.“It was a dream, Tristan.Nothing more.”
He shifted, crowding her so that she could not avoid him.“The hell it is.I want to know what he said that had you crying out in fear.”
Imogene was tempted to lie, but the man beside her always seemed aware of her feelings.“He wanted to know if I would tell you the truth.”
The confines of the compartment seemed to vibrate with the fury Tristan was attempting to shield her from.Instead of punching the nearest wall of the coach, he rubbed his jaw.“There is darkness in Norgrave, but I never thought him capable—” He grimaced and shook his head.
Shame clung to her like an unpleasant scent.“You still do not understand.How could you, when I am unable to believe or accept it?”
“Then tell me,” he coaxed.
She closed her eyes as his fingers grasped her upper arms.He turned her until she faced him.
“You can tell me anything.”
Imogene blinked at the abrupt sting in her eyes.His tenderness was her undoing.Perhaps she had a few tears left, after all.“You have to understand.I tried to stop him.”She brought her hand to her nose and sniffed.“He was too strong.Too determined to hurt—”
“You,” Tristan said when she struggled with her words.He cupped her face with his hands.“I know, love.You don’t have to explain.”
“No, he was trying to hurtyou,” she said in a swift rush of words.Her stomach ached as if a poison festered there and she needed to be rid of it.“He taunted me, daring me to tell you because it was the one thing you would never forgive.”
“The sin is onhim,Imogene.”Tristan’s eyes looked like obsidian in the dim glow of the coach’s lanterns.“You did nothing wrong.”
“No, it is you who do not understand!When he—” She gazed helplessly at him as she thought of the terror she had felt when he pushed her onto the bed and shoved his hands between her legs.Gulping air, she turned away from him and pressed her forehead against the cushioned wall of the coach.
“Imogene?”
“Norgrave forced me to experience pleasure.”She struck the wall with her fist, her fury renewed at his devious cruelty.“I was prepared for the pain.I welcomed it, but he stripped everything from me and then told me that I had to live with the knowledge that I secretly desired him.It is a lie, of course, but he planted doubt within me even as he filled me with his seed.”
Imogene glanced over her shoulder when she heard the soft, ragged sound.Her gaze locked with Tristan’s, and there was nothing left to be said.His dark blue eyes were luminous as tears filled his eyes.He did not turn away, but allowed her to see them fall freely down his cheeks.
“I want to kill him for what he has done,” Tristan confessed, his voice hoarse with suppressed anger.“What you’ve said does not change my feelings.The sin is his to bear, Imogene.I know you have doubts.”His composure broke, and his features contorted as if he was in pain.Quickly recovering, he continued, “But with time, you will come to understand that Norgrave is a master when it comes to manipulation.He made you feel pleasure against your will, because he knew the anguish of it would linger in your thoughts.He will only succeed if you let him.”
The coach slowed.He inhaled sharply and scrubbed his face to wipe away the evidence of his tears.In the dim lighting, he looked older than five-and-twenty.The door opened, and Tristan pulled the hood of the cloak over her head to conceal the bruising on her face.“Can you walk to the door or should I carry you?”he asked, giving her a choice.
Imogene felt battered and dazed.A part of her prayed that she was asleep in her bed and that when she opened her eyes, the horror of what she had endured would fade.Tristan said she was strong and she desperately wanted to believe him.“If you carry me, it might draw unwanted attention.I can walk… just give me a moment to compose myself.”
He looked as if he wanted to protest, but he managed a brief nod before he descended the steps of the coach.Imogene remained seated for a few minutes.She could hear Tristan and the coachman talking, but they were speaking too softly for her to discern their words.Taking her time, she adjusted the hood so the fabric hid her features.She could not understand why he had brought her to his aunt’s house.The only reason why she had not argued with him was that she could not face her family.Not yet.She needed more time to figure out how to explain everything to her mother and father.
Tristan poked his head through the doorway.“Are you ready?”
Imogene held out her hand, and he immediately grasped it.Belatedly, she noticed that she was still clutching the handkerchief he had given her to stanch the blood from the cut on her hand.Not all of the blood on her dress was hers.The marquess had seemed oblivious to the damage done to his face.The long furrow she had made with the jagged shard of glass had been deep enough to leave a scar.He would bear her mark for the rest of his life.
With the help of Tristan’s steady arm, she disembarked from the coach.
Tristan deliberately set a slow pace that Imogene could manage.She leaned against him, and he could sense that she was weakening with each step.He was moody and impatient, and he longed to scoop her up into his arms and carry her into his aunt’s house, but he understood her need to find her own way.
The front door opened, and the blazing light from within bathed their faces.He could hear his aunt’s voice as she issued orders to everyone within hearing distance.His aunt was preparing to depart for the evening.
“Tristan,” the countess exclaimed, finally noticing his and Imogene’s approach.“This is a most welcome surprise.We are getting a late start on our evening and were just on our way out.”She peered at the cloaked figure standing next to him.“Who is your companion?”
Unexpectedly, Imogene’s strength ebbed and she sagged against him.When her knees gave out, he swiftly caught her and picked her up.
“Forgive me, I feel unwell,” she mumbled, her face still obscured by the cloak’s hood.
“Good grief, is that Lady Imogene?”his aunt asked.“Is she ill?”
He did not bother answering his aunt’s questions.“Rest.You did well,” he murmured to Imogene.Without waiting for an invitation, he strode by his aunt and entered the house.“I need a bedchamber prepared for her.”
