Page 86 of The Duke's Second Bride
“It isn’t worth the risk,” he said. “You cannot promise me a safe outcome any more than I can promise tragedy. But it isn’t worththe possibility, Ava. I won’t go through that kind of loss again. I won’t put Luke through that again. I can’t.”
“Why are you allowing yourself to be ruled by your fear?” she exclaimed.
“I am not being ruled by my fear,” he snapped back. “I am telling you that I care for you, Ava, and it will ruin me to lose you.” He took a step back, pressing his hands to his face. After taking a moment to collect himself, he took a deep breath. “Perhaps this was a mistake,” he said, his voice suddenly quiet and very calm, so much so that Ava felt shocked.
“Maybe what was a mistake?” she asked, trying to keep her voice from wavering. She could not believe how far they had fallen from the closeness and intimacy of the last few weeks.
“Allowing ourselves to overstep the bounds of our initial arrangement,” he said, his tone unflinchingly cold. “We ought to have continued as we began. Convenient. Practical. We marry to maintain your reputation and financial stability, and to provide Luke with the help and care he needs. He has benefited from that, at least.”
“You truly want that?” she asked, disbelieving.
A silence passed. It was only a few seconds, and yet it felt to Ava like a lifetime.
“I believe it would be for the best,” he said finally. Ava felt as though her heart had fallen from her chest onto the floor and been stepped on.
He hadn’t said it was what he wanted, she understood. But what he wanted didn’t matter, at least not to Christian. No matter how much he might care for her, he would not be willing to build a future together if there was any sort of emotional risk involved.
There was nothing she could say to convince him otherwise, she realized.
For a moment, she had allowed herself to hope that her second marriage might be something more than her first. She had begun to hope that she might finally experience a real love. A real family, the way she had dreamed of.
Christian had offered her stability and respect, more than William had. Perhaps it had been foolish of her to hope for more.
But God, it hurt more than anything to have experienced that happy dream for the briefest amount of time, only to have it torn from her.
“In that case,” she said quietly, “perhaps you are right. We shall return to our original arrangement. We shall be civil with each other, and I shall care for Luke. Nothing more.”
She hoped he might disagree. But of course, he did not. He merely nodded. “I am glad we are in agreement,” he said. Helooked away from her, returning his attention to his desk, and Ava felt tears well up in her eyes.
“Very well,” was all she could bring herself to say in response. Any more words, she knew, and she would start crying.
When Christian said nothing more, she gave up, leaving the library and walking down the long hallway to her room.
Rationally, Ava understood that things had come to a clean end between them.
Still, it stung when she made it back to her bedroom and realized he had made no attempt to follow her and never would again.
CHAPTER 31
In the days that followed, Christian hardly saw Ava at all.
He no longer had to try to avoid her. She no longer sought him out, and in fact seemed rather to be avoiding him.
She had ceased coming to meals in the dining room, instead taking nearly all of her meals in her room.
One day, his resolve broke enough to ask the housekeeper, “Will my wife be joining us for dinner tonight?”
But the housekeeper merely shook her head. “Her Grace is visiting with her friend Lady Nealton. She has sent word that Lady Nealton has invited her to stay for dinner, and she regrets that she will not be back at the house until quite late. Shall I send word back?”
Christian shook his head. “No,” he said. He dragged a hand over his face, then shook his head again. “No, that is quite all right. I trust she will have an excellent evening with Lady Nealton.”
Despite the fact that he didn’t need to worry about running into Ava, suddenly the house felt unbearably empty without her there, and with Luke occupied by his tutors. Christian pulled on his coat and went out to call on the only person he could think of to see.
“Been a while since we’ve had a drink,” Vincent said, slamming his glass down on a table. “Not since your honeymoon, I believe. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Christian shrugged and muttered something non-distinct about needing to get out of the house.
Despite his desire not to be alone, it was immediately apparent that he did not have the energy to put up with Vincent’s joviality.
