Page 86 of The Duke’s Wager

Each word she said felt like a stab to his heart and Edward reached forward, trying to pull her back into his embrace – hoping against all logic that he could somehow get rid of the mask she had put on once more, that he could get the Lucy he had come to know back.

“Lucy…”

“Do not dare lie to me, Edward!”

Her voice shook, and the realization stabbed through him. He should have told her – he should have told her ages ago, long before tonight. There was only one possible explanation for her fury.

She knew. She knew about his daft wager with Julian Pembroke, she knew how all of this started, she knew everything… Everything, save for the most important part: the truth, that he had grown to truly love her.

“Lucy, please…” His eyes were searching hers frantically – hoping for some sign of love, some expression of tenderness. “Let me explain.”

She did not seem inclined to allow this. Her arms were crossed over her chest and her eyes were closed. Yet, she nodded stiffly, her lips pursed.

“Explain then.”

How? How could he explain the gravity of the mistake he had made? How could he explain that he knew he ought to regret it, but he did not for it brought him her? Where could he start?

“My mother died giving birth to me…”

Great job, he scolded himself. Try to get her to feel sorry for you. That is bound to work, you fool! She deserves better, knows better.

“My mother died giving birth to me… I did not know my father before her death, naturally, only from stories. But it was understood that her death had broken him. That my birth, effectively, had turned him into a husk. When I was old enough to read his emotions, it was not sadness or anger that I saw in his face… It was nothing. He was empty. A look of pure nothingness and that was the moment I lost him too, really. He held on for a decade, barely, which is a feat in and of itself. Existing rather than living, becoming a shadow of his former self…”

He shot her a desperate look, hoping for some sort of forgiveness or sympathy. She had not moved.

“Ten years later, on the anniversary of my mother’s death, on my birthday, my father took his own life. Everyone…”

He laughed bitterly, almost forgetting that he was telling her this to try and get her to understand – too overcome by the emotion of what had happened to him. “London was shocked and appalled. I was neither deaf nor stupid. I heard the whispers. Weak, they called him. What man, what father is spineless enough to take his own life? I was a mere child when I heard these things, and I must admit, Lucy, that it truly warped my thinking. It… it gave me the wrong idea of love.”

She opened her eyes slowly, though they were still void of emotion. Edward talked even faster, babbling desperately in a futile attempt to regain her trust.

“Lucy, I believed that it was love that made him weak. I believed that love destroyed him. That he loved my mother so much it gave her complete power over him, and that when she died, he died too. It broke him. I vowed then that no woman… no woman would ever have that power over me.”

Lucy blinked at this – only once – and cast her eyes downward. Encouraged by this near-show of emotion, Edward took a stride forward and grabbed onto her hands desperately.

“All that changed, Lucy, when I got to know you. You… you changed what I believed about love, how I felt about life. Lucy, you changed me. You… what I feel for you… I…”

Words evaded him, and he shook his head, hoping that he could find another way to make her understand. He leaned forward to kiss her, but she stepped away.

If hearts could shatter, Edward was certain that his had in that moment.

“Lucy, please… What I feel for you… The love… What I believe I—”

She shook her head, her mouth curled in an angry sneer.

“You almost had me fooled. For a while… I must admit you did.”

He had never heard her voice sound so devoid of emotion, so cold. Edward opened and closed his mouth, unable to find the right words to say.

It proved wholly unnecessary. Lucy was speaking now, in that cold, dead tone that shot through his heart like arrows.

“I believed you. I gave you everything.” The mask slipped. Her voice cracked. Though Edward had hoped for her to show emotion, this was far worse than the coldness she had exuded.

She was heartbroken, hurt – and it was all his fault.

“I gave you my heart. I gave you…” Her voice broke and he reached for her in an attempt to comfort her, but she stepped out of reach quickly. “I gave you my body… and my soul, and you—”

The tears that flowed from her eyes stabbed at his heart accusingly, and Edward trembled, biting back his own tears. He wanted nothing more than to comfort him, but she had made it clear that she would not allow it.