Page 72 of A Christmas Temptation for the Duke
“This isn’t an excuse, but it starts with my father,” Daniel sighed. As he spoke, he made sure to be looking away from Alison, and she could see the darkness swallowing him. “He was a drunk and a gambler, and the debt he left my family in was…” He exhaled.“It was bad. The type that threatened to send my family into poverty, was it not taken care of.”
Alison made sure to say nothing. What she did do, was reach out and rest a hand on his knee. A comforting squeeze, and she could feel how that gesture alone helped.
“My sisters were the answer,” he continued in whispered tones, his breath rattling. “I have six of them and, as ashamed as I am to admit it, I saw them as a way out. A damn means to an end, almost grateful that I had so many to choose from.” He scoffed. “At first, I did not question what I was doing. I was happy to force them into marriages with men whose purses were all I cared for. Were they kind? Were they devoted? Did my sisters even love them? I cared not…”
She squeezed his leg and shuffled in tighter, just to let him know that she was there. And not once did she look away.
“Eventually, I began to realize that I had made a mistake. Yes, the debts were paid off with each new husband found, but every time I was forced to watch one of my sisters walk down the aisle, it took a piece out of me. I felt ashamed, Alison…” He finally looked up, and his eyes were glazed red. “How relieved I felt, how freeing it was to remove the debt. As if I was trading my sister’s happiness for my own – as if it did not matter how they felt, so long as I was satisfied.”
“Daniel, you know that is not the case.”
“But it was,” he hissed. “I was so concerned about my damn title and fortune that I did not stop to consider my own sisters’ wellbeing. I did not even ask how they felt!” He clenched his jaw, and she saw the hand which was holding the glass of whiskey shake.
“And your sisters?” Alison asked. “Have you spoken to them about this? Asked them what they think now?”
He scoffed. “I know what they think.”
“Do you, though? It might take a woman’s perspective to help you see it, but what you did…” She shuffled in closer so that she was right at him. “It is expected. We are raised to know what our life will entail. What you have told me is nothing new.”
“It is not the same,” he sighed. “One sister, perhaps. Two or even three…. But six? I treated them like pieces on a chess board.”
“You gave them each a life where their father left them none,” she insisted, feeling a stabbing pain in her chest. And not just at how vulnerable Daniel was being with her, but how his story reflected her own life. “Believe me, I know that your sisters do not hold it against you. Just as I know that they will understand why you did as you did.”
He scoffed again. “Even if they did, do you want to know what the worst past is? Let us say they came to me and forgave me for everything. Let us say they each told me how happy they were. I still would not believe them. I would assume they were lying to try and make me feel better. But the truth of it…” He took a finalsip of whiskey. “I don’t want to feel better. I do not want to be forgiven. I did the wrong thing by them, and my fate is to live with that for the rest of my days.”
“Oh, Daniel…”
She could see it all so clearly now.
This was the reason why he was so emotionally distant and withdrawn. The reason that he was so cold and constantly pushing her away. And the reason he did not trust himself to let down his walls and grow close… no, not trust. It wasn’t about trust at all. It was that he did not think he deserved it.
Daniel lived in a state of constant self-loathing and to finally be happy, in his mind, was a betrayal to himself and his sisters. The man truly was broken.
“You’re wrong, you know,” she said gently as she tried to find the words that might bring him back.
“Doubtful.”
“You are…” She squeezed his leg again. “You speak of yourself as if you are the arbiter of doom and sorrow. As if everything you touch turns to ash…” She laughed softly. “But you and I both know that is not true.”
“It is truer than you think.”
“And what of me?” she pressed. “What of what you did for me?” She raised an eyebrow at him, making sure he saw it.
He looked away. “It is not the same thing.”
“You saved me, Daniel.” She reached forward with her hand and took his chin, forcing him to look at her. His eyes were still glazed, and his brow was tight. But he did not look away. “More than once, you did. And not because you had to, but because you wanted to – because you knew it was the right thing to do.”
“That does not make me a good person.”
“It proves that you’re not the wretch you seem to think,” she countered. “I am still not so convinced that what you did with your sisters is nearly as awful as you want it to be.”
“But –”
“All I know,” she spoke over him, still holding his eyes, “is that the man who took me in, who saved me, who I saw laughing today in the village, who got into a snowball fight because a village boy goaded him into it…” She smiled awkwardly and was thrilled to see Daniel do the same. “He is not a monster. He is not evil or wicked. He is a man who made a mistake, and that he knew he did… in my eyes, that means there is hope.”
“Hope?” He was looking right at her, chin trembling, eyes watery. “What hope?”
“Hope that things will get better,” she said, feeling her own eyes moisten. “Hope that we can get better. Hope that…” Her cheeks flushed and she glanced away. “Hope that our past does not define us and that tomorrow is a better day. And it will be better, Daniel.”
