She raised a slender shoulder, dropped it. “Oh, a hundred years or so.”
He chuckled darkly, as though he’d expected no other response from her. “Can we not at least call a truce for today... for her sake?”
“I can’t believe you came. She’s nothing to you,” she whispered harshly.
“She’s something to you.”
“God.” She buried her face in her hands, moved her palms up, and pressed the pads at the base of her thumbs to her temples. “Your smooth words no longer have an effect on me. Don’t you dare hurt or take advantage of her, Knightly, else I shall see you destroyed.”
Her words carried utter conviction, and he didn’t seem surprised by them either. “Was I to ignore her summons? Would a rebuff not have caused her harm?”
“She’s only four. I doubt she even remembers inviting you.”
“How could I be sure? Better to err on the side of caution, don’t you think?”
She didn’t know what to think. Except that her daughter appeared remarkably happy playing with a bundle of fur. Regina had wanted to put off getting her a dog until they were situated with a secure future—just in case whomever she took to husband wasn’t fond of pets. But as it would no doubt be her dowry responsible for causing him to propose, she supposed she could have a say in whatever menagerie accompanied them to their new home. And if they happened to reside here, well, Regina would certainly reign over the household and all its occupants—furry and not—then.
“You should have checked with me before bringing that creature,” she scolded.
“You’d have said no.” He leaned toward her, mirth dancing in his eyes. “She’d already told me she had to wait until she was six.”
“I’ll not have you being a bad influence upon her.”
“What about upon you? Could I be a bad influence upon you?”
“Your days of having any influence upon me are behind us.”
“Is that a challenge?”
“If it were, are you cruel enough to accept it?” She knew the answer before she’d asked the question. Or at least she’d once known the answer. The man she’d previously assumed him to be, the one with whom she’d fallen so desperately and maddeningly in love, had not shown a scintilla of cruelty—until the morning they were to wed. Why then? How had she so vastly misjudged him?
His jaw taut, he looked at her daughter gathering grass stains upon her skirts, the ribbon holding her hair back loosening as she tumbled about with the rambunctious pup. “No,” he said quietly, but it was as though the word traveled through the distance of years to reach her.
Chapter 9
June 1870
It was not in his nature to be cruel, and yet he’d been given no choice except to be.
Staring at the entrance to the church, Knight thought that with enough time, perhaps he could have determined another way out of this diabolical situation in which he’d been placed. But time didn’t favor him.
In only a few minutes he was to exchange vows and take a wife.
But she deserved better than what he could now offer her. And she most certainly didn’t deserve the heartbreak he was going to inflict upon her. But, again, he’d been given no choice.
He couldn’t ask her to give up legitimacy and respectability. Not when she’d already lived twenty-two years without either. He couldn’t ask her to sacrifice everything she desired and deserved, everything he could no longer give her.
He’d always surmised with enough coins in his coffers he would obtain complete freedom from his father’s influence—and yet the vile creature all ofLondon knew to have sired him was more odious than Knight had ever given him credit for being. Over the years, he’d made excuses for him. It couldn’t have been easy to lose his firstborn son. But now he understood the man possessed a depth of brutality that was unconscionable. One Knight possessed no weapons to conquer. He was a solitary figure standing on a battlefield, caught in a war he’d been too distracted to comprehend was coming.
A war that would take an innocent if he stood his ground, would take an innocent if he retreated. He’d been commanded to choose which to leave on the field bloodied.
An impossible choice.
Yet, he’d made the decision at once, demanded the duke go straight to hell as he had an appointment to keep. In an almost blind rage, he’d made his way to his carriage. But as the wheels had spun and the horses had clopped, remorse, regret, and guilt had settled over him. By the time he’d arrived at his destination, he’d known he had to reverse his stance in order to live with himself. He also knew if he didn’t, any happiness that greeted him in the years ahead would be tainted and lacking in true joy. How could he subject his wife to a lifetime with someone suffering through a penitence?
He had to set Regina free without telling her precisely the reason for it. Holding his tongue was the only way to protect her. The duke had made that clear enough. He knew no words to utter that would ease the devastation he was about to inflict upon her.
Although perhaps he’d misjudged her feelings.Christ, but he hoped he had. That she wanted him only for the position he would grant her within Society. Still, she’d be hurt, angry, and mortified. He couldn’t lessen the blow but could ensure he took the brunt of it.
