Page 93 of The Duke's Second Bride
“I don’t know what I’m doing here,” he finally said, if only to not be awash in the silence any longer. A few more seconds passed. “Vincent is being ridiculous. I suppose that’s why.”
Nothing responded, of course.
“I…” He swallowed and was slightly surprised to find a lump in his throat. “I don’t know what to say, Isabel.”
It had been so long since he had spoken directly to her, and so the name felt almost foreign on his tongue.
“If you were here,” he continued, “I would tell you how sorry I am. That I couldn’t save you. And that I’m sorry it took me such a bloody long time to show you the affection that a husband ought to show his wife. And I would apologize for swearing.” He let out a choked laugh at that. “You always did hate vulgar language.”
The wind seemed to pick up through the branches of the nearby trees. The sound didn’t frighten him, but rather made him feel less alone, emboldening him to continue, even as the tightness in his throat grew.
“I cared for you deeply,” he said. “And I never meant or wanted to betray your memory. I never thought I could care for someone that deeply again, but Ava came into my life like sunlight after a storm. I didn’t expect her. I never could have. But she came, andshe brought so much joy to my life—to Luke’s. You would smile to see them together.”
On that note, a smile rose to his lips. But it immediately dropped as he sobered, remembering why Vincent had dragged him here to begin with.
“And then I pushed her away,” he said brokenly. “Because losing you almost killed me, Isabel. And I knew that letting her in meant risking grief again. I was frightened, and I let my fear make me weak, and I pushed her away. I don’t know what I could possibly ever do to fix it. I don’t know if there is any world in which she could ever possibly forgive me.”
“I suspect you may be living in that very world,” came the soft voice of an older woman behind him.
He turned with a start to see the Dowager Duchess of Richmond, standing behind him.
He bowed. “Duchess. What are you doing here?” he asked, startled by her sudden appearance after he had been so convinced that he was entirely alone in the cemetery.
He hadn’t even heard her arrive.
“I come every month to visit my grandsons,” she said, gesturing across the rows of graves. “My Nicholas. And my Jasper.”
Christian felt himself stiffen at the name. “I am so sorry,” he said.
She waved him off. “Ah,” she replied, “it was long enough ago.” She paused. “But I suppose grief never goes away, does it?”
“No,” Christian said softly, turning to look once more at Isabel’s grave. “It does not.”
“Still,” the dowager duchess said. “One cannot let it consume one’s entire life.”
Christian turned back to look at her silently. “I … I have not,” he said simply.
The dowager duchess fixed him with a stern look. “Young man,” she said. Christian bit back a protest. “Don’t you say a word. You are young, in my eyes, and you always will be. I have been alive for much longer than you have, and I have grieved more people than you. And the most important lesson I have learned in all that time is that it is not a betrayal to those you have lost to live happily. In fact, you must, for the alternative is to give up on a happy life entirely.”
He went to speak, but she held up a hand silencing him in advance.
“Fear of grief is not love,” she said, her voice firm but also gentle at the same time. “And letting go is no great act of betrayal. It is necessary. The human heart was not meant to stay frozen intime. Take it from an old woman,” she finished, a twinkle in her voice as well as her eye.
At this, Christian felt something break open inside him. He felt wetness on his cheeks and swiped at them, turning away slightly so that the older woman could not see. If she did see, she did not directly comment on it.
Still, the vulnerability cut into him as much as the grief.
He lowered one knee to the ground. “I’m so sorry, Isabel,” he muttered.
He felt the dowager put a hand on his shoulder. “What you had with dear Isabel will always matter,” she said kindly. “It will always be a part of you, and of Luke. But the love you have now, dear, that is more powerful than chasing any ghost. It isreal. And you deserve to live your life, not shy away for fear of it.”
She patted his shoulder once more. Then, after a moment of silence, as if sensing he needed more time, she nodded and walked away.
He watched her cross the rows of graveyards until she was too far away to see.
Christian looked at Isabel’s grave once more. He touched the ground before it.
“Thank you,” he said. “Thank you for everything.” He took a large breath. “Goodbye.”
