The only thing that stopped him was a soft, weak voice coming from Amelia’s chambers.
Graham halted, and he did not even check to see if he had fabricated his wife’s voice out of desperation—he ran for her bedside, dropping to his knees when he saw her eyes opened.
“Heavens,” he cried out. “Oh, Heavens, Amelia, you are awake.”
He clasped her free hand in his, bringing it to his lips. Those hazel-green eyes blinked at him, confused and wide. He laughed tiredly, weeping. “The only time I leave your bedside and it is the moment you wake up. You remain contrary.”
“What… what has happened?” she asked, trying to smile at his comment but not understanding the humor.
“I shall tell you,” he promised. “But is there anything at all you remember?”
Amelia’s eyes were wide as she shook her head. “Not yet.”
Graham, with his mouth still brushing her hand, began to tell her. “I… after you left the musicale evening, I should have followed you, stopped the carriage, done everything to keep you at my side.” Amelia’s face flickered, her brows pulling together, and he wondered if she thought of their last argument, wondering why he suddenly spoke so openly. “Instead, I went back inside, thinking to give you space, and I stewed in my shame and anger. It could not have even been an hour later when a messenger boy ran in and told us there had been an accident.”
Graham swallowed, his mind flashing through images of the splintered carriage.
“It was… it was terrible, Amelia. I ran through the streets, and all I could do was hope and pray that it was not as bad as I feared. And then I got to the wreckage of the carriage. There you were, buried beneath the chunks of wood, a hand out, as if you waited to be pulled out. Three days have passed since then.”
“I,” she began, frowning. “I recall the carriage veering. The coachman kept shouting, over and over, and we tumbled. I remember blinding pain, a crashing sound, and then everything went dark. I did not know whether it was blood, tears, or rain that had dripped down my face as I lay there, hoping I would not… well, hoping to be rescued.”
He met her gaze, hoping his was as open as he felt. “Amelia, when I saw that carriage, when I saw the blood on you, when I pulled away piece after piece of the carriage, and ran through those streets, fearing the worst, I could only think that I should have never let you walk away, that I could not bear to lose you. You have been right in everything you have declared.I have kept you at arms’ length, fearing of hurting you, all the while forcing ignorance that doing that was hurting you most. I thought that saving you from ruin was enough, that you would not want any part of me after that, that you wished for a courtship. That you wished to be wooed by a proper suitor, and I believed I had deprived you of that.”
He reached out with his other hand to carefully brush her face with the pad of his thumb. “I know now. Love has grown within me, and although Heavens knows I have my terrible moods, and my past that I cannot always speak of, I wish to let you in. For that might be difficult but the risk of losing you in any way is far, far worse. I wish to change. I wish to be a good husband, an honourable one. I wish to make my family happy rather than tread carefully with me, and I wish to be the duke that you deserve at your side.”
Tears blinked in his wife’s eyes. He fell silent, breathless, as he waited for her to push him away, for her to say that he had not been fair, and to tell him, rightfully so, that he did not deserve her forgiveness.
And then she reached out, her free hand slipping from his to cup his face. “You were never cursed, Graham, and I have felt honoured by you since the moment we collided in that ballroom. You think that you hurt those you love but you do not control what happens to them. Theworldis the tragedy, their own choices are tragedies, not you. You are not the harbinger you think you are.”
He opened his mouth to protest but she pressed a finger to his lips, smiling weakly.
“I have seen you laugh with Daphne and pretend that you do not find her funny. I have seen you embrace your mother when she has felt sad, and I have seen you laugh with Lord Owen, and honour your aunt. I have seen you think of me, and be courteous with my family. You have so much good in you that you cannot see it, for you are too busy looking over your shoulder at your ghosts. They will not go away but they cannot take your attention forever. Not when what is in front of you is so full of goodness that you deserve to feel. You feel guilty for what happened regarding the duel but you have a family who never once believed you capable of what any gossip column said.
“For a while, I did misunderstand you, I admit, but since then, in the spaces of those misunderstandings, I have grown to love you. It is as the winter snow melts, replaced by the warmth of spring. It is a change you hope for, that you wait to see, and suddenly, it happens without you quite noticing until one day, it has already happened.” Amelia smiled wider. “You are terribly broody, and your moods are indeed as foul as I have told you, but you aremyfoul, brooding duke. You are not cursed, and if you have abeast inside you then so be it. As long as that beast can have ease knowing it is loved as well as the man alongside it.”
“Heavens, Amelia,” Graham murmured, moving to gather her as best as he could in his arms. The rest of the world fell away; he did not even know if Owen had left, or if the rest of his family had heard him speak. He did not care for a moment. All that mattered was the gentle maneuvering of his wife into his arms, and the press of his kiss on her forehead, slowly moving down the bridge of her nose, to press to her lips. He let the kiss linger, his eyes closing, as he spoke everything else through that very touch.
Amelia kissed him back, pressing to him, holding his face as best as she could.
And Graham… he had never known how true acceptance and love felt but he found them in that kiss. Their mouths moved gently, carefully, as if they might already know the shape of one another. His fingers brushed the side of her face, mindful of her bruises, as he finally knew what it was like to kiss his wife.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“You truly kept vigil every day and night?” Amelia asked Graham the following morning, after they had both stayed awake long into the dark hours of the night, burning a candle that Graham did not let anybody change.
Felicity and Daphne had been in to greet Amelia for as long as Graham allowed them before ordering them to leave so he could be alone with his wife once again.
“Day, night, afternoon, evening,” he jested. He still had not fully been able to joke about Amelia’s condition, and he felt like a taut piece of rope, but those eyes had opened, as he had prayed for them to, and that was enough for him.
Owen had reported hunting down more evidence, telling Graham to simply be with his wife.That is where you are needed most, his letter had reported earlier that morning.Do not let her down by your own pride to find justice yourself. Let me do this.
So Graham had withstood his first test of setting his pride and need for control aside.
Instead, he smiled with his wife, and he held her hand, and he had a book in his lap, preparing to read to her.
But a knock on the door to Amelia’s chambers had him halting anything else. The butler entered the room.
“Lady Hawthorne, and her daughters, Miss Clara and Miss Elizabeth.”
