Lord Amberwell leaned forward, dropping his voice to a low but intense whisper. “He carries a great burden from the deaths of his mother and his sister. They did not die of an illness. He lost them in the most brutal way.”
“How?” she asked, her voice rising in pitch, as she felt a chill come over her.
She could still remember the details of the family portrait. There was something desperately sad about it. Now, she was merely beginning to see why.
“It is not my place to tell you. I imagine the servants were too loyal to the Duke to tell you. They may also be protecting you by keeping his secret. But this I know—please be patient with him. Do not let him drive you away with his behavior,” the marquess almost pleaded. “The world saw a young Duke step in too early to take his title and immense wealth, but there is more to his struggles. He still believes he failed to protect the two people he loved most. He does not want it to happen again.”
Daphne wondered if he saw a damsel in distress in her. Perhaps he wanted to find someone he could protect, as he had been unable to with his mother and his sister.
Is this why he went underground and built a life that is almost mythical to other people?
“I want to understand him. How can I if he keeps on pushing me away? And do you think it is wise for me to remain here when half the time I do not think he wants to see me?”
Amberwell gave her a startled look. “Do you mean… do you wish to leave your husband?”
Daphne dismissed the notion with a wave of her hand. “Oh, don’t you fret. I could not even leave even if I wanted to. Briarwood is a dangerous man, even more so now, and I would not venture out in town without a companion, preferably my husband, by my side.”
“Ah, well…” The Marquess breathed a visible sigh of relief. “I am glad you have come to that conclusion on your own. But—if I might suggest one more thing? Instead of putting your blind faith in my friend and your husband, spend time trying to understand him. He built a life on silence and control. He is doing things that some people might frown upon, but there is a reason behind it. His life is not consumed by thoughts of power and wealth alone, but it is also about revenge.”
Daphne knew that there were fury and darkness within Adrian, but she never knew him to be capable of calculated revenge.
Could he be?
“He sees you as a beautiful, innocent light. However, he is afraid to lose someone precious to him. Not again.”
“Did he tell you that?” Daphne asked, narrowing her eyes at the marquess.
“No, he did not, but I know him well enough. He needs your strength, though. He may be strong, but he needs someone on his side, whether he admits to it or not. Even the support I give to him through tough love. I don’t let him feel like I pity him.”
“I don’t pity him.”
“He must know his darkness does not frighten you.”
“I am not afraid of him.”
It was true. No matter what Adrian did, Daphne knew that she’d be safe with him. He was a terribly lonely man, but he hid it with his various activities. She might not know exactly what they were, but she knew he was dealing with something dangerous. Briarwood found him dangerous, and it helped her cause.
“Thank you, my lord. Thank you for sharing this with me,” she whispered, overwhelmed with emotion. “There is so much I don’t know and understand about him, but I would like to try to know him better.”
Her throat felt tight. While the Duke was good at hiding his emotions, she had learned how to put on a mask for the world to see.
The obedient daughter.
No more.
“He is a good man, although sometimes he may pretend not to be,” the Marquess said, his eyes softening, as if remembering his friend in a better light. He sat on the edge of his chair so that he could reach for her hand to squeeze it. “Now that you know what he is like, you can choose to break down his walls or leave him in the dark. I know I want to free the Wolf, but I also know you did not choose to be here. You did not choose to be his wife. Not in these circumstances.”
Daphne wanted to tell the Marquess that he was wrong. She did choose Adrian and she wanted him to freely be himself, but how? And what hold would she have on him?
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the front door slamming open. Then, it was followed by a series of heavy footfalls on the marble floor.
The Duke of Wolfcrest entered the drawing room, appearing disheveled. It looked like he had just returned from a full night of tending to whatever business he had. The smell of pipe smoke and whiskey followed him. Daphne did not know what could be worse: his current state or the smell of some other woman’s perfume on his clothes.
His gaze flicked around the room before the Duke narrowed his eyes and glared at her and his dearest friend.
“Caleb.”
The way Adrian said his friend’s name with such scorn was not much of a greeting, but more like an accusation and a threat. The sound was rough like stone grating on stone.
