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The realisation sobered him. He didn’t know what would happen to their marriage, but he suddenly wanted to go back to the ballroom to watch over Charlotte. Maybe they could find another way, perhaps build something stronger.

Lenora softened her voice and went to touch his arm. ‘You’re wrong, you know. When you courted me, it was real, for a time. I cared for you then, and I still do.’

A soft sound caught his attention, and God help him, he saw Charlotte standing at the doorway. She had undoubtedly heard Lenora’s words and now believed the worst.

‘Charlotte—’ he started to say, but she turned and fled.

He let out a curse, and Lenora said, ‘I’m so sorry. That probably sounded awful. Do you want me to go and talk to her?’

‘No. Go back to your husband. I will talk to my wife.’ Dread washed over him, along with the need to reassure Charlotte of the truth.

He pushed his way past Lenora, returning to the ballroom. Several guests seemed startled to see him, but he ignored those who tried to speak to him. There was no sign of his wife anywhere—and his brother was also gone. He had no idea where they were, but they couldn’t be far away.

As he reached the opposite side, he encountered Mr Virdon. The man’s expression was smug, and Alaric paused for a moment.

‘Were you looking for the duchess?’ the gentleman asked. ‘Or perhaps you found someone else instead?’ His gaze drifted behind Alaric, but he didn’t turn.

In a low voice, he said, ‘Where is she, Virdon?’

‘She left with your brother.’ His thin smile turned knowing. ‘But I imagine you knew that.’

Alaric’s tension didn’t ease. He stared at the man and said grimly, ‘If you try to harm my family, you will regret it.’

‘No one will come to harm if your family’s debts are paid,’ Mr Virdon answered.

He’d had enough of the veiled threats. ‘They were already paid.’ Alaric reached out and gripped the man’s arm in warning. ‘Stay away from my family, or I will see to it that you cannot show your face in London again.’

Others were starting to stare, so he let go of the man and left the ballroom. But he had the feeling that this wasn’t finished yet.

Chapter Eleven

Rule 11: We will not fall in love.

Charlotte couldn’t stop crying. She’d wept in the coach all the way back to the townhouse. Wisely, Thornton hadn’t asked why. Undoubtedly, he’d seen his brother storming across the ballroom and had likely assumed they’d been fighting.

A fight would have been easier to handle than what she’d seen—Lenora touching Alaric’s arm and telling him that she still cared for him. And the duke hadn’t pulled away or discouraged her. His expression had been utterly unreadable—as if he hadn’t known how to respond.

When he’d seen her standing in the doorway, Alaric had spoken her name quietly, like an apology. That was the worst thing of all. It wasn’t that she’d caught them in a tender moment—she knew they hadn’t wanted her to witness it. But it was the regret in his voice that broke her.

It felt as if he were saying, I’m sorry you cannot be the woman I love.

No, she couldn’t. She could only be herself, and if that wasn’t enough for him, then there was no means of saving their marriage. The only way to protect her broken heart was to completely shut him out.

She’d been such a fool to fall in love with the duke. He would never love her back, not really.

Her fragile hope, that they could be something more, was utterly shattered. She’d already tried to remove the imaginary walls between them, to be the sort of wife he wanted. And the gift he’d given her, the beautiful ballgown, had made her heart soar with such hope. But that hope had died the moment she’d seen them together. Now, she understood that she wanted too much from him—a love he couldn’t give her.

Not even your parents loved you, a voice inside her dared to say. She was starting to realise that now. They had only wanted to see her for an hour out of every twenty-four; otherwise, she was nothing but an inconvenience to them. That had been her predictable pattern each day, and she’d never thought anything of it because it had been the only life she’d known.

She’d mistakenly thought it wouldn’t matter if her marriage was the same. The garden was supposed to fill her time, giving her joy. But it wasn’t enough any more.

Her husband wanted to see her at meals, wanted her to share his bed, but he refused to consider loving her. And she simply couldn’t bear to live that way. Not again.

She had wanted to fight for her marriage in the hope that it could become something more. But how could she fight for the husband she loved when his heart still belonged to someone else? It was a losing battle.

And so there was no choice except to retreat and plan her next strategy. She would do as he asked and return to Severn—but she refused to surrender and let him love someone else while he was married to her.

A knock sounded at her door. Charlotte didn’t want to answer it. She couldn’t stand to see the pity in her husband’s eyes, nor did she want to hear any explanations. It didn’t matter.