Page 63 of Captured By the Cold Duke
“Thomas,” his wife murmured, and she returned his hug with fervor. For several minutes, the two of them stood there, hugging one another, tears pouring down Thomas’s cheeks. Hewasn’t sure if she could hear him crying, but he suspected that she could feel the wetness through the thin fabric of her night shift.
But he didn’t care. She was alive, and he would cry about it if he wanted to.
At last, he released her, and then he held her at arm’s length to get a good look at her.
“You look well,” he said, taking in her ruddy cheeks and sparkling eyes. “Not at all as if you were just poisoned.”
“I feel well,” she said. “A little unsteady still, but otherwise fine.” Her stomach rumbled, and she laughed and put a hand over it. “And ravenous, apparently.”
“Well, you’ve been eating nothing but spoon-fed broth for the last few days, so that makes sense,” he said, laughing. “But don’t worry, I’ve already had Cook begin preparing some food. It will be up shortly.”
“You’re so thoughtful,” she said, smiling.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up,” he said. “I promise you I barely left your side before today. But Aidan and I were at Lord Rochford’s house. He was just arrested, Cherie. For putting cyanide in the cognac you drank. It was him?—”
“Yes, I assumed so.”
“Well, he won’t be able to harm you ever again. He is behind bars, and he won’t be hurting us ever again.”
Cherie nodded. She looked suddenly very tired, and her legs began to tremble, so he led her over to the bed and sat her down.
“Tell me truly,” Cherie said, once she was leaning back against the pillows. “How bad was it? ”
Thomas swallowed the lump that had once more risen in his throat, and then he nodded. “Things were touch and go for a while,” he said. “I was terrified we were going to lose you.”
The tears once more sprang to his eyes, and he reached out and took her hand.
“There’s something I have to tell you,” he said, and even though fear of her rejection fluttered in his chest, he also felt resolute and brave. There was no way he wasn’t going to say what he had to say, now that they had been given a second chance. “I love you, Cherie.”
Her reaction was swift and touching, she gasped, then clapped a hand over her mouth, and her eyes filled with tears. He squeezed her hand tighter, fighting the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes as well.
“I have loved you ever since that morning in the parlor when you walked in wearing your riding clothes. I have loved you every day since then, and probably every day before, although in adifferent way. There is no woman on earth I could love like I love you.” He reached forward and brushed a lock of her hair back from her face. “I love your stubbornness,” he murmured. “I love your fierceness. Your loyalty to your friends and family. I love that you devised a plan and ran away from home rather than marry Lord Rochford.”
“You were furious about that!” Cherie cried, lowering her hand from her lips.
“I was worried you would be ruined,” he said, “but I love that you are so brave and spirited. I have always loved that about you. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I should have told you that day in the parlor, and I should have kept telling you, every day since then. I should have courted you properly. I should have proposed to you in the most romantic way possible, and I should have married you in the happiest, most loving ceremony imaginable. I should have done everything differently. But I didn’t, because I was sure I wasn’t good enough for you.”
He took a deep breath. “I’ve told you already how my father made me feel unworthy of love. But what I didn’t tell you, and which I should have told you right away, is that on his deathbed, my father told me I was a bastard.”
The word rang out through the room, but to Thomas’s surprise, Cherie didn’t look that shocked. She continued to stare at him with a calm, understanding expression, so he took another deep breath and kept going.
“My mother died when I was young, so I could not ask her if it was true. What my father said was that she had never admitted it, but that he had always known. He said he wished he could have proven it so that he could have disinherited me and taken away my dukedom. And his confession confirmed everything I’d always felt that he had never loved me. That I was unworthy of the dukedom. And that I was unworthy to love and have children who would share in my shame of being illegitimate.”
“That’s why you didn't want to have children,” Cherie breathed. “You thought you didn’t deserve the duchy or to pass it on to your heirs.”
Thomas nodded. “But Cherie, I don’t care about any of that anymore. After Lord Rochford poisoned you, and I thought you were going to—” his voice broke, and he cleared his throat. “When I thought you were going to die, I realized that none of that matters. I have loved only one woman all my life, and she is mine. What was I doing, wasting that love and pushing her away? I realized that I had been a fool. My father is gone, and with him, all evidence of my birth. I don’t want to let the shadow of that stop me from loving you and building a happy life with you.”
He paused, then shook his head. “I don’t even care anymore if it’s true or not that I’m a bastard. I am more than what my father thinks of me. I am more than an affair my mother might or might not have had. I am your husband. That is the most important identity I have ever had. And I would do anything to make up to you for all the pain I’ve caused you. I’d do anything to start over and show you that I am worthy of you. I would doanything to live as your husband, to give you children, and to shower you with love and adoration for the rest of our lives.”
Cherie’s eyes were shining with tears. Her hands came to his shoulders, and she pulled him towards her. Once their noses were touching, she smiled softly.
“I love you, Thomas. I think I may have always loved you, even when I was a child, but was too stubborn to realize it. And I want all that as well. I want to start over. I want to live as your wife, to have children with you, and to grow old with you.”
Thomas’s heart felt as if it was going to burst. He couldn’t wait a moment longer. Pulling Cherie to him, he kissed her with all the passion that he had ever felt for her. His arms circled her, and hers circled him, and they held one another for a long time, their kisses burning through him and consuming every remaining doubt and lingering fear.
At last, they broke apart. Cherie looked half-dazed, and she couldn’t stop smiling. Thomas couldn’t believe the happiness coursing through him. He hadn’t known it was possible to be this happy.
“There’s something I have to tell you as well,” Cherie said. She pointed towards his mother’s desk, and he turned to see a small leather diary sitting on top of it. “I found your mother’s diary. And I hope you forgive me, but I read it.” She smiled broadly. “In it, she talks about your father’s accusations, and she swears that they aren’t true. She is adamant, Thomas, that his accusations came from a place of deep insecurity because he was sure it washis fault that she couldn’t conceive for many years. And it’s a private diary, Thomas. She didn’t leave it for you to read, she hid it away in the desk. So, I think she’s telling the truth.”
