Page 62 of Snowfall and the Duke
“What do you mean?” She frowned, for he was being mysterious suddenly. “What is it that I am not seeing, Your Grace?”
He took a deep breath. “Ailis, can I trust you?”
Her eyes widened. “Of course you can. I promise you this. Have I ever given you reason to doubt me?”
His expression turned thoughtful. “You earned my trust years ago and have never let me down.”
Having said that, he remained silent a long moment.
But this extended silence only added to her confusion.
She became even more confused when he began to remove his jacket. Of course, he still had on his cravat, a lovely forest-green silk that looked quite elegant on him, a waistcoat also of forest-green silk shot through with threads of silver, a shirt of finest white lawn, and buff trousers that molded to his long legs.
Her heart beat a little faster as he undid the cuff of his sleeve. “What are you doing?”
He cast her a wry smile. “Ailis, stop fretting. I am not going to take off my clothes in front of you.”
She let out a breath and chuckled. “Oh, how disappointing,” she teased. “I was hoping you would put on a show for me.”
She expected him to grin, but his expression suddenly sobered and a glint of pain shone in his eyes. “You would not say that if you had to look upon this for the rest of your life.” He rolled up his shirt sleeve and exposed what appeared to be burn marks that ran up the length of his forearm. “It is the same on my other arm and my legs.”
“Jonas,” she said in a strangled whisper, unable to imagine the incredible pain he must have experienced when suffering those burns.
Her heart broke. It simply broke into a thousand pieces, and she wished she could say something or do anything to make his past anguish and suffering magically disappear.
“Jonas,” she repeated softly, hoping he would not take offense by the familiarity, since he had asked her several times to refer to him by his given name. Was it not right that she should do so now? “Do these scars still hurt you?”
“No, Ailis,” he replied as she reached out to gently touch his arm. “The physical pain has mostly passed.”
But the cost to his heart, to his happiness, must have been insurmountable. This explained why he held himself off from everyone. This was why he settled for quick entanglements to satisfy his urges, for he only needed to lower the falls of his trousers and…
She turned away a moment when she felt her cheeks suffuse with heat.
He believed there could never be any real intimacy between him and a young lady because of these wounds. But who would care when he had so many fine qualities? His scars would be insignificant when compared to his valor, his honor, and his intelligence. Not to mention his exceptionally good looks.
He also had a wonderfully wry sense of humor, which he displayed whenever dealing with her. He often made her laugh, even when he was being cantankerous and curmudgeonly.
But the grim, dour duke he presented to the world was not his true self. This was him being defensive and pushing others away to ensure they would never get too close and break his heart by rejecting him.
He released a heavy breath. “Ailis, I forbid you to weep over me. Why in blazes are you crying?”
The tears trickled down her cheeks, and not only because she felt an intense sympathy for his pain. She was crying because he was trusting her with this deep secret, with his weakness that he had hidden from everyone for all these years. That he would lay his heart bare before her meant everything.
“I cannot help it. Will you kiss me now, please?”
He shook his head and laughed softly. “Ailis, I cannot make sense of you. Why would you want to kiss me after I have shown you this?”
“Because I now understand you better, as you expected I would. This was entirely the point of your showing me this glimpse into your past and the suffering you endured, was it not? I thought you were a wonderful man before this moment, but now I think you are incredibly and amazingly wonderful. My heart is bursting with pride for you and in knowing you. My heart is also experiencing myriad other feelings that I cannot describe because I do not understand them all myself.”
“Not pity, I hope.”
She pursed her lips. “No, pity isn’t among the feelings that have my heart in a roil. Admiration. Respect. Ache because of all you have been through and suffered. Sorrow because you chose to handle this enormous pain on your own.”
“How else would I manage it? In truth, it was not hard for me to do.”
“Because you desperately wanted to protect yourself from those who might revile and hurt you.”
He cast her an indulgent look. “Do you truly believe I care what other people think? You ought to know me better by now.”
