Authors: Tracy Goodwin
Damn that man
.
Lachlan MacAlistair deserved nothing less than to rot in hell.
Sebastian issued an order to have his butler call for Dr. Danbury. He then took great care as he placed his wife in her bed and covered her with the ice blue duvet. He stayed by her side until Dr. Danbury arrived and examined her.
The good doctor assured him that his wife would make a complete recovery; however, he thought it best that she awaken in her own time.
Dr. Danbury exited after promising to check on his patient the next day, then closed the door behind him. Sebastian reclined beside his duchess, watching the gentle rise and fall with her every breath.
He thanked God that Gwen was still breathing.
Time passed in an eerie silence. As the hour grew late, cool moonlight illuminated the room through the bank of windows at the far end of the wall, the previous cloud cover having dissipated.
Sebastian made a deliberate decision against lighting any of the wall sconces, instead preferring the semi-darkness. He couldn’t tolerate the light. It was easier preparing to face his demons in the dark.
Dear God, why didn’t I tell her when I had the chance?
Sadness filled his heart as he traced Gwen’s lips with his finger, wondering when his wife would
ever again let him touch her.
Sebastian should have told her the truth. God knows he’d come close to admitting it many times, yet he always postponed the inevitable. Now, it was too late to confess his sins. Her poor excuse of a father beat him to it.
Fear gripped his chest and Sebastian found it difficult to catch his breath.
What if she doesn’t forgive me?
He studied her, noting that her long, fanned eyelashes had begun to flutter.
Lying on her back, Gwen awoke as confusion clouded her vision. How did she get to her suite? She squinted in the semi-darkness then turned on her side to discover her husband lying on his side next to her, meeting her gaze.
His stare was different than she’d ever seen. For the first time since she’d known him, fear shone in his indigo eyes. It unnerved her so much that she didn’t move at first, oblivious to the fact that his fingers had stilled on her jaw line.
“What time is it?” she asked in a raspy voice.
“I lost track of time.” Sebastian’s voice was rough. “Dr. Danbury said we should let you sleep.”
She blinked back the hot tears that stung the backs of her eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”
“Please believe me, I wanted to and I planned to.” He opened his mouth to continue but instead remained silent, as if he decided better of it.
Gwen sensed that he didn’t know what else to say. Perhaps his explanation sounded as weak to his own ears as it did to hers?
Gwen’s voice quivered, “I want to believe you, but how can I now?”
“I’ll help you.” His anguish was evident as he kissed her forehead. “My love for you hasn’t changed.”
“So much has changed.” Gwen pulled away, pushing the satin coverlet aside as she rose. She then walked to the window.
Nothing was the same as it had been this morning. Her entire life, entire family, was one fabrication after another.
Sebastian followed her, still trying to convince her. “Gwen, I never meant to hurt you.”
She stared out at the moonlit grounds, her head spinning.
“I did what was best for you,” Sebastian added.
He sounded so convinced by his last statement that it made her want to retch. So many people claimed to want what was best for her … her father, her brother, and now her husband.
Realization hit her like an icy winter wind. “Tristan knew about your deception, didn’t he?”
Sebastian remained silent. It was all the confirmation she needed.
Gwen squeezed her eyes shut. Every one she trusted, every man she loved had lied to her in one way or another.
“Look at me,” Sebastian beseeched her.
When she at last complied, her expression was as menacing as her tone. “You should have told me.”
“I wanted to. I couldn’t—”
“Why?” She longed to understand his
reasoning. “Didn’t you have enough faith in my love for you? I chose you, for God’s sake. I chose you over my father, over the man he intended me to marry. I chose you.”
“I know.” His brow furrowed. With guilt and shame she supposed.
“You debased our love.” Gwen’s anger now overpowered her broken heart. “You tainted our marriage with deceit and allowed my father to ambush me. Do you have any idea how much pleasure he derived from telling me the truth? God, my father reveled in my stupidity and naïveté while I defended you.”
“I thought I had your best interests at heart,” Sebastian’s usually strong baritone shook with emotion.
She began to walk away then turned on her heel to face him. “You think your actions were for the best? Well, so does he. That makes you no better than Lachlan.”
Gwen refused to refer to the man as “Papa” or “Father.” The monster deserved no such respect. Besides, her father was officially dead to her.
Sebastian spoke as if he were appeasing an angry child, “As I explained, I planned on telling you.”
“I no longer believe you,” Gwen lashed out.
He cringed at her icy tone. All he wanted was to explain his motives to her, make her believe that he never meant to hurt her.
Narrowing the gap that separated them, Sebastian reached for her. Gwen recoiled from his touch. “Don’t!” She glared at him, her tears now
replaced by venom dripping from that one command.
He was taken aback by the sight of her beautiful features distorted by a mask of such anger.
“Both you and that monster who sired me justify your manipulations by saying they were for the best.” Though tears welled in her eyes, Gwen was quick to wipe them away with the back of her hand. “You are wrong! It was best to trust me with the truth instead of treating me like some immature child.”
Sebastian recognized too late that he shouldn’t have pushed things. He had wanted to comfort her with his body and make everything up to her. Instead, he had pushed her even farther away from him.
Her unwavering glare made him feel as if she were examining his very soul and it unnerved him. Averting his gaze, he instead studied her satin bedspread and smoothed a crease with his palm. “I swear to you that I’m telling the truth.”
“Truth,” Gwen mocked. “Do you even know what that is?”
“Gwen—” He turned toward her but she silenced him by raising her palm to him.
“Not one more word, Sebastian!”
Sebastian winced at her tone. She’d never said his name in such a cold, uncaring manner. It sounded almost mangled now.
She despised him, Sebastian realized as he raked his hands through his hair, his mind racing to find the words to explain. All he could muster was, “It’s not what you think.”
“It’s not?” She shrugged her shoulders. “I think that you lied to my father and told him I was a whore carrying your child, knowing that it would force him into accepting our marriage. The Duke of Davenport always gets what he wants, right? Everyone else be damned?”
Taken aback by her crass choice of words, Sebastian immediately became incensed by her accusations. “I married you!” His tone was harsh, more so than he intended. “For God’s sake, I didn’t ruin your reputation. I made you my wife. I gave you wealth and a title.”
“I believed in you.” Gwen pointed to her chest. “I defended you against his accusations – even when my own father called me a whore. You made a fool of me.”
He remained silent, his pulse slamming against his temples with a violent force.
“I was foolish, wasn’t I?” she asked, although Sebastian knew her question to be rhetorical. “On that my father was again correct. I was stupid to have believed in you, to have expected more from you.”
She turned her back to him. It was akin to her slapping him in the face. Stung, Sebastian grabbed her arm, whirling her around to face him. “Did it ever occur to you that your expectations were too high?”
Scoffing, Gwen attempted to pull away but Sebastian wouldn’t release her. “I am human, Gwen. No man could have lived up to your idea of perfection.”
“Don’t blame me for your actions.” She jerked
her arm from his.
“It’s true,” he asserted. “It was a long, hard fall from that pedestal you placed me on.”
She shook her head as if to clear it. “I see. The fault lies with me because I believed in you?”
His voice raised an octave. “I never claimed to be noble or chivalrous. That was your fantasy. I’m flesh and bones, just like you. No better, maybe worse.”
“Maybe worse?” Her lips twisted into a sardonic smile. “You lied to me and made me look like a common tramp to my father.”
“Don’t you think you’re being too hard on me?” he asked. After all, he did save her from an unwanted marriage to a disgusting man. Did that not garner him a little forgiveness?
She stood with her hands on her hips, her eyes flashing with anger. “Why? Because I believed you capable of rising above my father and Keir?”
“Yes, because of all of it.”
“Was winning this battle of wills with my father worth it to you?” she asked, her hands remaining on her hips.
He remained silent as a vein pulsated in his neck, his rage heightening.
“Answer me,” Gwen demanded, bridging the gap between them in two swift strides. “Was trouncing Keir worth my contempt?”
Contempt? Had he heard her correctly? The expression on his wife’s face confirmed that Sebastian had indeed understood her meaning.
Sebastian’s voice erupted, “Ah, Keir. Is that who this is about? Perhaps you enjoyed his leering
at your cleavage? Did you want more?”
Without warning, Gwen slapped him across his face. Her hand made such a forceful impact with his jaw that it caused his ears ring.
“Get out and stay out,” she ordered, pointing toward the open door that connected her suite with his.
He wanted to grab his wife and shake some sense into her. Instead he chose to stand still and flog himself in silence. Damn him, he shouldn’t have lost his temper. Gwen had suffered a great shock. She should have been allowed some time to process all she had learned. Instead, Sebastian realized with disgust, he allowed his anger to boil to the surface making everything worse.
Rubbing his sore jaw, he inhaled a deep, cleansing breath before trusting himself to speak. “I am sorry.” His voice was calm, much more so than he felt. “We’ll discuss things tomorrow, after we’ve both had a chance to compose ourselves.”
Gwen didn’t answer him. Instead she stormed to the doorway that connected their bedchambers. Glowering at him, she held onto the gilded knob with one hand, pointing to his exit with the other.
Sebastian walked through the doorway and turned toward his wife just in time to see the wooden door slam in his face.
Just when he thought things couldn’t get worse, he heard her key turn in its hole.
He stood rooted to the very spot as the absurdity of his situation hit him. No woman had ever rejected him before yet his wife had done just that. Come to think of it, no woman had ever slapped
him, let alone slammed any type of door in his face, certainly not a bedroom door!
Muffled sobs came from his wife’s suite, sobering him.
Sebastian placed his palm flat against the wood that separated him and his wife. More than this door separated them, he realized. His own lies separated them and they formed a much stronger, much thicker barrier to cross.
With his hand resting against the door, he stood stock-still, listening to her sobs with a heavy heart, guilt churning within his abdomen.
Minutes passed and Sebastian leaned his back against the door before sliding down to the floor, his head in his hands. Each sob tore at his mangled heart.
What if Gwen doesn’t forgive him? How could he live under the same roof with someone he loved to distraction yet who no longer loved him?
On the other hand, how could he ever live without her?
He had been granted heaven for one brief, shining moment in time and shattered it into a million pieces with his deception.
Sebastian leaned his head against the door until her tears had subsided then pressed his ear to it, listening for any sign of her.
His wife’s room remained silent.
Rising, his posture was limp as he strode downstairs and straight into his study. He reached for the decanter of brandy, pouring himself a large snifter. Upon emptying his first glass in several large swigs, he then poured himself another,
swishing the amber liquid back and forth before taking another hefty swallow.
It burned a path down his throat but didn’t offer him any comfort so Sebastian decided to move onto whiskey. Maybe, just maybe,
it
would dull his pain and ease his guilt if only for a short time.
When it didn’t work either, he knew what to do next.
In no mood for company, Sebastian found himself grateful for the late hour, relishing the fact that he could saddle his own stallion. He then rode through the dewy fog, Gwen’s words haunting him, chasing him through the misty air.
By the time he reached his destination, the sun was lying dormant on the horizon, threatening to burn through the gloomy vapor. He cursed the sun, choosing instead to wallow in the murky darkness that had surrounded him ever since his heartbreaking confrontation with Gwen.
As he rode up the gravel drive to the limestone fortress before him, Sebastian was well aware of the early hour. He was also aware that the mistress of the estate would be awake and in her gardens as it was her ritual to watch the sunrise over her grounds.
She was the sole person who could give him the solace he so desperately sought.
After tying his horse to the post, he walked down the flower-lined path toward the garden. Sebastian knew this estate as well as his own, just as he knew its owner like the back of his hand.
As sure as the rising sun, sitting on a stone bench with a shawl draped over her regal shoulders was his salvation.
“Good morning, Fiona.”
She turned, a loving smile on her face, “Sebastian, my dear. It is wonderful to see you.”
He walked out of the shadows and she rescinded her statement. “No, it would be wonderful if you didn’t look like hell.”