Page 79 of His Duchess to Remember

This evening? What? But… But that is so soon.

She stared at him. “I see.”

“The rules of our marriage will return to what they were, and I won’t trouble ye again,” he said, a rasp in his voice. “I’m sorry that I broke yer trust, and I’m sorry for hurting Simon.”

Was that it? Octavia could hardly believe it. Did he truly have so little notion of just how much he would hurt Simon by leaving? Did he think that could be remedied with a simple ‘I’m sorry’? And, of course, it would be left to Octavia to tell their son that his father had decided to retreat to Scotland, removing himself from their lives once again.

“Very well,” she said, for she did not know how else to reply.

He bowed his head to her. “I’ll leave ye to yer tea.”

As he turned and left the room, a great wrench tugged upon her heart, as if he were taking part of it with him. She was angry at his deception, betrayed and heartbroken, but she had never expected him to just… go.

Is that not what you wanted?

She stared at the spot where he had been, and did not know how to answer that.

Octavia crouched in front of her son, the afternoon sunlight streaming in through the drawing room windows. He still had a smear of something on his lip from his luncheon, which she reached to gently brush away.

“Now, my darling, I have something very important to tell you,” she said with a sad smile, her chest tight.

How on earth do I break his heart like this?

She knew that Malcolm would have done it himself is she had asked him to, but she had decided that it would be better coming from her.

“Your father has… some business to attend to in Scotland, where he lives. Do you remember I told you that? That he lives in Scotland?”

The boy nodded.

“Well,” she continued, “he is going back to his castle there. You see, he was not very well when he came to us. He had a… um… sore spot, like when you fall down and scrape your knee. That is why he was staying here with us, so he could get all better, like you did when you had your fever. But now that he is all better, he is going to go home.”

It took every shred of strength she possessed to get through the clumsy explanation, knowing it was not nearly enough to prevent the devastation that would surely come.

“He will leave this evening,” she added, “and… I do not think we shall see him again, because he lives so far away and it is difficult for him to make such a terribly long journey.”

She had no idea why she was protecting Malcolm with her careful words. The anger and disappointment that fizzed in her chest would have chosen less pleasant wording.

Because he thinks this is what you want from him, her mind whispered.

“Is papa cross with me?” Simon asked, his chin dipping to his chest.

Octavia frowned and tipped her son’s head up. “What? No, of course not. Why would you say that?”

“I… called him nasty,” the boy murmured, rubbing his eyes. “He hurt me. He didn’t mean to. Millicent said… I was lucky. She said papa saved me, but I was sore. I was mean.”

Her frown deepened. “What? Your father hurt you? What are you talking about?”

She thought back to Malcolm’s words earlier, how sorry he was that he had hurt Simon. She had assumed he meant that Simon would be hurt by him leaving, not that he had caused any actual harm.

“There was an incident by the river, Your Grace,” Millicent jumped in. “The young master didn’t want to come back to the manor for his luncheon. He wanted to play another game with his father, and when His Grace tried to encourage Simon to come back here, Simon ran. He slipped, Your Grace, and the duke caught him before any harm could come to him. Unfortunately, there is a slight mark where the collar rubbed against his skin.”

Stunned, Octavia pulled aside the collar of her son’s shirt and saw the mark for herself: a faint pink line against his pale skin.

Is this why he is leaving? The thought was so outlandish that she immediately shook it off. Accidents happened. Children were unruly sometimes. Surely, that would not be reason enough for Malcolm to suddenly depart Huntfield.

“I was naughty,” Simon admitted, chagrined. “Papa was cross. That’s why he… goes.”

“No, my darling,” Octavia urged, putting her arms around her beloved boy. “Of course, that is not the reason. He is just a very busy man, and he is not unwell anymore, so he has to go home.”