Page 22 of The Duke's Second Bride
That bolstered her spirits a little bit to hear someone, anyone, defending her. Perhaps she should have let Edith tell off those rumormongers. But it would pass, she reassured herself. As the whisperer pointed out, rumors were too over-the-top to be believed for long.
“They may be ridiculous,” came another whisper. “But every rumor contains a grain of truth, don’t you believe?”
“Oh, come now. Surely you don’t think for one moment that Lady Dunfair was having an affair with her brother-in-law?”
“Oh, certainly not. But there’s no denying the late Lord Dunfair was far from faithful. After all, he did little to nothing to hide his indiscretions.”
“Yes. How ghastly. That is hardly the lady’s fault, though.”
“Well … perhaps it is.”
“How could you say that?”
“Well, I don’t think she was being unfaithful to him, but she never gave him children. Perhaps she was unable to, and that is why he had to seek comfort elsewhere.”
“And risk siring children out of wedlock?”
“With a barren wife, perhaps it was his only hope at having any sort of heir. I pity Lady Dunfair, make no mistake. But I do not know if I can entirely blame the late lord for having the desire to continue his legacy.”
Tears welled in Ava’s eyes, and she immediately made to exit the ballroom.
The insinuations that she was unfaithful, or somehow involved with Brandon, of all people—those were hurtful, yes, but they were also too far from the realm of reality to cut deep.
The implication that her failure to give William children somehow justified his affairs? That was hurtful beyond measure. It was too close to the things he had heard William saying about her. And even after what she had overheard between him and his physician, there was a part of her that couldn’t help but wonder if it still was her fault after all. Perhaps William could have been fertile if he had been married to another woman?
She hated William for making her feel this way. Hated Brandon for doing everything he could to rob her of what little stability and reputation she might have left. Hated everyone in the ballroom, saying such vicious things as though it were nothing but mere entertainment for them, as though it had no bearing on her life.
She hated this entire place. All she wanted was to go home.
She rushed through the halls of the estate until she was outside, in the garden by the entrance to the townhouse.
The night air helped some. Her tears cooled on her cheeks. She breathed deeply, in and out, until her heart rate steadied and the tears had somewhat abated, but she still ached terribly deep in her chest.
“Are you in need of assistance, my lady?”
Her blood ran cold at the familiar voice. “Leave me,” she said, as fiercely as she could, though her attempt at strength was undermined immediately by the tremble of tears in her voice.
There were footsteps as Brandon walked closer towards her, and she turned to face him, wiping her tears quickly and standing up straighter.
“A gentleman can hardly leave a lady in distress,” he said, affecting a concerned tone, though the smug, self-satisfied look on his face told a different story. “Come, now. It would be sucha shame to mar that beautiful face with a frown. You would be much more pleasing to the eye if you were to smile.
“Leave me,” she repeated. “Do not make me ask again. Please. I just want a moment to myself.”
“You can ask as many times as you’d like,” he said, “but surely by now you’ve realized that your words mean nothing to me? Or … well. Perhaps not nothing.” His eyes dragged across her form, raking up and down every inch of her dress, to the parts of her neck and décolletage that remained uncovered. “Your fire and passion are quite appealing. But doubtlessly, you know that already.”
Ava’s eyes flared. She took a step backward. “I have nothing more to say to you,” she said, keeping her voice firm.
She swiped again at the tears on her cheeks, which had now dried due to sheer terror.
“Ah. But that isn’t quite true, is it? After all, that dress you’re wearing was paid for by me. The houses where you live are paid for by me. The staff that tends to your every whim, you are allowed to keep only at my generosity. Your entire life is lived at my whim, dear Ava.” He stepped closer, until she was forced to step directly into a column, the length of marble preventing her from backing up any further. “I think it is long past time you treated me with the kindness and the respect and thegratitudeI deserve.” His voice began to fill with bitterness.
Ava shook her head, suddenly acutely aware of the fact that she had nowhere to go. He had her cornered.
“I am most grateful to you, Brandon. Grateful to you as the wife of your brother.”
“But you weren’t a very good wife to him, were you? Poor William.” He tutted, stepping in closer still. “Not giving him children. What other duty does a wife have? And, to hear tell the whispers in that ballroom, you were doing much, much worse.”
Tears began to well up once more in her eyes. “It isn’t true,” she whispered, shaking her head more fervently. “Noneof it is true. I was faithful to William from the beginning of our marriage to the end. I have been faithful to his memory.”
