Page 105 of His Forsaken Duchess
Belleville studied him for a long moment, furrowing his brow. “And Audrey?” he asked softly. “What of her?”
Cedric’s chest tightened, but he forced his expression to remain impassive. “Audrey will understand,” he said, though the words rang false even to his own ears.
Belleville’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Will she?”
Cedric turned away, his gaze falling to the pistol in his hand. “This is my choice,” he said quietly. “Not hers.”
Belleville nodded slowly, though his eyes remained troubled. “Very well,” he said. “If this is the path you’ve chosen, I will stand by you. But know this, Haremore—honor is not won with blood. It is earned through the choices we make, and the people we protect.”
With that, he turned and left, softly closing the door behind him.
Cedric stood alone once more, the silence closing in on him like a living thing. He set the pistol back in its box and closed the lid, his movements precise and deliberate. Then, he reached for the whiskey again, pouring himself another measure and raising it to his lips.
For the first time since Cecilia’s death, Cedric allowed himself to grieve—not for her, but for the man he might have been had the world been kinder.
And then he drank.
“I was wrong,” came Lilianna’s voice
Audrey froze in the doorway, her gloved hand resting lightly against the polished frame.
Lilianna sat on the settee, her fingers gripping a handkerchief tightly as she glanced up at their mother and Lord Belleville, who stood near the fireplace.
“Lilianna?” Audrey prompted, her voice calm but distant as she stepped into the drawing room.
Lilianna’s head snapped toward her, her wide, tear-filled eyes locking onto Audrey’s. “You were right, Audrey,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Rashford is a cad—a terrible, heartless man. I don’t know what would have happened if I had met him.”
Audrey stopped short, her stomach twisting at her sister’s words. For a moment, she felt as though the air had been knocked out of her lungs. But she smoothed her expression into one of detached calm, her training as a duchess taking over.
“I am glad you see that now,” she said quietly, her voice measured. She looked at Belleville, inclining her head slightly. “Thank you for explaining the truth to them, My Lord. It seems your words were well-received.”
Belleville nodded, though his gaze lingered on her, sharp and searching. Audrey refused to meet his eyes, instead turning to her mother, whose face was etched with concern.
“Mother, I need to pack,” she said firmly. “I would appreciate your help.”
Grace furrowed her brow, opening her mouth as if to protest, but Audrey had already turned on her heel. She moved toward the door with purposeful strides, not waiting for a response.
“Lilianna, you should rest. You’ve had a trying evening,” she added over her shoulder.
Her mother and sister exchanged a glance, but neither spoke.
Audrey swept out of the drawing room, her head held high, her steps brisk as she ascended the staircase. The moment she reached her bedchamber, however, her composure wavered. She paused in the doorway, her hands clutching the edges of her skirts as she forced herself to breathe.
Focus on the task.Tasks are simple. Tasks are clear.
“Miss Smith,” she said sharply, her voice cutting through the stillness.
The maid appeared almost instantly, her face lined with worry. “Your Grace?”
“We are packing. Quickly.”
Miss Smith hesitated, glancing toward the open wardrobe, but one look at Audrey’s expression silenced her questions. She curtsied and set to work without another word.
Moments later, Grace and Lilianna entered the room, their faces etched with concern.
Grace moved to Audrey’s side, her hand brushing her arm lightly. “Audrey, what is this?” she asked gently. “Why are you packing? What has happened?”
“I am leaving,” Audrey said simply, her voice devoid of emotion. She crossed to the vanity and began gathering her jewelry, placing each piece carefully into its velvet-lined box. “I will stay with you for the time being.”
