“Don’t you have anything better to do?” Duncan shot him an annoyed look.
Of all people, it did not surprise him that Malcolm was able to see right through him. Duncan had always been an expert at masking his emotions, but Malcolm was one of those people that could always tell.
It had always been something that annoyed Duncan.
“At this moment? Nay,” Malcolm grinned shamelessly, “in fact, ye could say that tendin' to ye is me biggest responsibility right now. We daenae want our duke to be so forlorn.”
Duncan rolled his eyes.
“I am hardly forlorn,” he said, irked. “When have you know me to be very expressive to begin with?”
“Huh. Nay, ye’re nae an expressive chap. But even someone like me can piece together what might have went wrong when Miss Charity is to leave tomorrow, and there is nay weddin' in sight.”
Duncan pressed his lips together. He could not keep the calling off of the wedding a secret for too long, after all.
“It has happened for the best,” he admitted, curtly.
“The best for whom?” Malcolm raised his eyebrows. “Certainly nae for you. Was it yer idea or hers? Though, knowing both of you, I would think that it was yer idea. She didnae seem to mind the idea of marryin' you, even seemed to look forward to it.”
“I suppose appearances can be deceiving,” he said.
Duncan was not one to go back on his word, and rarely did he ever rethink a decision that he had taken. But he had only been plagued with second thoughts since he had told Charity that he was to find himself another wife, and free her. One thing was clear: if she was being freed in this arrangement, then he was being chained to her.
Or memories of her.
It would be impossible to replace her, and he did not even want to think of another person who could ever take her place.
No. Duncan did not want this.
But at the same time, he did not want to trap her into life with him. Things were different now, and she could find herself another gentleman.
“Whoa, careful,” Malcolm said, as Duncan set down the glass of whisky in his hand so hard that it almost broke. “Ye fine there?”
The very idea of Charity being with someone else had incited such blind, jealous rage inside of him that he had lost track of what he was doing.
“I think I would like to be left alone,” Duncan said, clearing his throat. Some whisky had spilled around the table, creating a puddle of amber liquid over the shiny wooden surface.
“But for how long?” Malcolm said in a rare solemn tone. “Ye have always preferred yer solitude over everythin', almost as though ye see it as a remedy for whatever ailment ye suppose ye have. But for how long are ye goin' to carry on like this?”
“I would rather you don’t ask me these questions,” Duncan said with an eyeroll, trying to diminish the concern. That way, he could at least maintain some separation from it.
“If I daenae, who’s goin' to?” Malcolm said. “None of the staff have the authority to do so, they’re too scared of you. Or maybe respect you too much to ever challenge any of your decisions. There is no one from your family who can say these things. Someone needs to tell you.”
“Not now, please,” Duncan sighed, closing his eyes for a moment and then moving to pour himself another glass of whiskey to replace the one that had just spilled.
“Fine. Suit yourself,” Malcolm said, disgruntled. “But I am telling you, you should reconsider this entire thing. Miss Charity is a gem, and you should not let her slip away just like that.”
Duncan let his words ring out and remained silent until Malcolm exited the study. It was only when the door clicked shut that he spoke again, now to himself.
“You think I don’t know that?” he muttered, and took a large swig of his drink.
There was too much emotion swirling inside his chest, and the only thing he could do to deal with it was to numb them. If he did not let himself feel anything, then there would be no problems.
“This will pass,” he told himself, but it fell on deaf ears. He did believe it was ever going to get any better.
He was doing the right thing, in his mind anyway, but he had never expected it to feel this empty.
“She’s making us go away,” Augusta approached Duncan the next morning. He had been loitering in the hallway, a part of him wanting to catch the last night of the girls before they left.
