Duke Ever After (Dukes' Club Book 5) (19 page)

“Then we’ll live as most couples do. Apart. And you can do whatever you bloody well like anyway.”

She nodded, tears stinging her eyes. She turned on her heel and stormed back towards the house without a backward glance.

If Derek truly thought she’d put up with such a thing, he was sorely mistaken. And she was going to have to take things into her own hands because, clearly, Derek had no idea how to behave.

***

D
runk.

He was exceptionally drunk and to be quite frank, he’d every intention of growing drunker still. As he wandered down towards the docks in the darkened streets, gin bottle in hand, he didn’t give a bloody fig for the pickpockets and footpads giving him the eye.

None of them approached in the barely lit warren of streets. He had a feeling he looked rather murderous.

He’d just had a particularly troublesome conversation with the Duke of Blackburn.

In the days since his wedding and Rosamund’s revelation, Blackburn had avoided the Scottish people, the mad people, who had set his life to rack and ruin. After all, Derek had promised Rosamund he’d give her time to tell her brother that, after several weddings amongst their acquaintances, they would be next.

But apparently, she’d turned coward and was running.

Egypt!

Bloody Egypt with the Basingstoke brothers!

Ha! If she thought she was going to give him the slip all because she had some ridiculously romantic notion of marriage then she had another thought coming.

He didn’t know why he hadn’t just told the Duke of Blackburn right then that he was father to Rosamund’s unborn child. Perhaps because he didn’t wish to put a burden on the relationship of brother and sister.

The only family he’d ever had was his son and he’d always felt a twinge of jealousy for those who had close family.

But presently? If Rosamund didn’t confess, he was going to stand at Hyde Park corner and shout to anyone who would listen that she was carrying his child and that she was going to be his duchess.

He didn’t care if it made him a blackguard. As far as he was concerned all rules of decorum need not apply in this. He was battling for his last chance with the only woman who might make him happy.

He just had to find a way to do it without telling her the truth. Because once she knew the truth. . . She’d look at him like his father had done. Like he was worthless and he didn’t think he could bear that.

Not from her. Anyone, but her.

His legs wobbled as he found the right gangplank and he grabbed hold of the rope railing as he ascended to his ship. He could have returned to his townhouse, but tonight he needed the security and comfort of the only place he’d ever felt accepted and at home.

Besides Rosamund’s arms.

The ship was largely silent except for the few men on watch and they tipped a hand to their foreheads as he shuffled past them and to his cabin.

He shoved the door open and flung himself onto his bed.

He’d always insisted on a bed on his ships. Large, and anchored to the wall, it allowed him to stretch out in a way a hammock simply couldn’t do with his massive frame.

“What the devil is going on, Da?”

Derek groaned. Tony.

His son had never seen him wallowing in self-pity and he wasn’t about to let him see such a thing now. Still, he contemplated for one brief moment ordering his son out and burying his head into the blankets.

“Your dear friend is making my life a living hell.”

“Rosamund?” he scoffed. “Impossible.”

“Wait, lad.”

“Wait for what? An angel?”

“Do you know what angels are really like?” He stared at his son and said pointedly, “They’re fiery and furious and God’s avengers. They destroyed cities, lad. Decimate everyone around.”

“Rosamund is kind and good natured,” Tony said calmly.

“Well, that’s probably why she’d rather go to Egypt than marry me.”

“Pardon?”

“You heard me.”

“Well, perhaps she’s not ready—“

“She’s with child,” he slipped. He shouldn’t tell Tony. He shouldn’t. But he needed to tell someone and, frankly, his son was the only one he trusted.

“Oh, Da. What did you say to her?”

Derek sighed. “I told her we should marry.”

“I don’t understand the dilemma then.”

Derek felt a wave of self-pity. “She won’t have me.”

“Did you tell her the truth about you then? She rejected you?”

Derek let out a laugh that had no mirth. “Never even got to tell her my deep, dark secret, my boy. She doesn’t want me.”

He couldn’t quite bring himself to say that she’d demanded his honesty and he’d been unable to give it. But if he was honest, she’d never have him. Not when she’d not wanted him before for no more particular reason than his possibly dangerous past.

“I’m sorry, Da.”

“Thank you, lad. But none of your pity. We are made of sterner stuff, after all.”

“What are you going to do?” Tony asked, wiping a hand over his face.

“Well, I can’t let her go,” he said at last.

“You love her, don’t you?”

Derek smiled a hollow smile. “Everyone insists I do.”

“Don’t mock, Da.”

“Yes, Tony,” he said softly somehow able to confess it in the dim light of his ship’s cabin. “I love her. I love her obstinate, head-strong, red head and I love the way she won’t yield. I love the way she isn’t afraid of me and how she sees that the Duke of Aston is nothing but a giant show.”

“If she sees that, then she’s a wiser woman that I’ve ever known.”

“Can she grow higher in your esteem still?”

Tony grinned. “Yes. She can marry the best man I know. You.”

Tears stung Derek’s eyes. “How was I ever so blessed to have you in my life, Tony?”

“Don’t know. It’s a mystery. But you
are
the best man I know, Da. Despite what you think about yourself.”

Derek shoved himself to his feet. “Come here, lad.”

Tony crossed the room and Derek held out his arms.

They embraced and Derek held on to his son, savoring the love between them and the honesty.

That’s what she wanted, he suddenly realized. The way Tony and he could speak would never be possible if Tony didn’t know the truth.

And there it was.

Come hell, come whatever may, he’d never find the kind of love, the open love he had with his son, with her if he didn’t tell her the truth.

Oh, there might be passion, but as the years stretched that would never be enough.

They had to be together with no secrets. No lies. And so, he was going to have to stand before her, heart in hand, and confess that all his life had been a sham. That his father had hated him.

That he was exactly what she’d called him.

A bastard.

Chapter 20

You’re being a coward.

Those were the last words her usually vivacious friend, Lady Gemma had uttered to her as she’d stepped aboard the Dolphin.

Without her even confessing, Gemma had deduced her predicament and she’d not held back as she’d passed judgement.

The sea salt air brushed her face and she drew in a deep breath. Neither did much to fortifying the aching emptiness twisting her heart.

Luckily, her morning sickness had faded a bit and as long as she stood on deck in the fresh air she felt mostly well. At least physically. Her spirit was entirely out of sorts.

It would be several days before they reached Naples which was perfect. She needed days of nothing to think. Then. . . Then she’d decide what to do because while she had told the Basingstokes that she was going to go to Egypt, that was an impossibility in her condition. It would be far too dangerous. She could not risk contracting a serious illness. And such travel to such places often meant the chance of illness. . . Even if she was usually as healthy as a plow horse.

And so, once she had reached the Neapolitan city, she’d find suitable, quiet lodgings and allow herself to decide if she was going to stay in Italy.

That’s all she truly longed for. Time to think. Time to resign herself to the marriage she’d never wanted to the man she’d dreamed about. Or a life lived in scandal.

She clutched the railing of the ship and gazed at the last shadowy vestiges of England as they sailed away.

Those last thoughts hadn’t been quite right. She wanted to marry Aston. Oh dear lord, how she longed to! But not with those unscalable walls between them.

Somehow, she knew if she was to marry him as they were now, they’d grow farther and farther apart and that closeness that had been inherit to their relationship would vanish. They would be strangers on separate shores with a great sea of loneliness between them.

She refused to be one of those cold
ton
wives who had affairs by the dozens. . .

Tony was right. There was a certain hardness to those women as if they’d realized that love was never going to be theirs and they were required to settle for temporary pleasure, instead.

Well, she would settle for nothing less than love.

Or so she told herself. She had wavered several times in the long nights in the last days as she had imagined raising her child with no father and no name.

She’d never be able to return to England unless she gave the baby up or came back insisting she had adopted some charming child from a ghetto. 

She would never give her child up. Of that, she was certain.

And so, it had also become clear to her that if she didn’t marry Aston she might be making an irreparably selfish decision. She had so much more to consider now than just her own wishes. She had a beautiful baby to think of and its future.

“I say, should I be concerned? You’re not thinking of pitching yourself over are you?”

Mr. Basingstoke, the Basingstoke who had helped drive Derek mad just weeks ago, approached her.

“Do I look so desperate?” she asked, unable to keep a slight strain from her voice.

“You don’t look at peace.”

“Just nerves,” she said with forced cheer. “You see, unlike you, I am unfamiliar with traversing the globe.”

He nodded but his beautiful mouth was pursed with skepticism.

She stared up at him then said, “You don’t believe me, do you?”

He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Not a whit. But I won’t force a confidence.”

What the devil was it about this man that made her wish to tell him every secret? “Do you have this effect on everyone?”

“Which effect?”

“Does everyone cast up their innermost thoughts to you? Every time you’re nigh I feel the urge.”

“Yes,” he replied with a dry laugh. “There’s something about my face. It can be most trying, if you must know.” He leaned down and gave her a conspiratorial wink. “Ever so many secrets to keep, don’t you know.”

She laughed. “How exhausting for you.”

“Feel free to unburden yourself,” he said softly. “I’d quite like to hear your secrets.”

“I think I’ve mucked up any chance of happiness I have.”

“My God, what a dramatic claim from someone of your years.”

She scowled. “This is hardly drama. This is life changing. This is scandalous.”

She tried to continue. “I’ve. . . “ She blinked tears from her eyes. Why was it always so bloody difficult to speak about?

“You’ve had an affair with Aston.”

“How the devil did you know?” she sputtered.

He arched a brow. “Please do not ask such an insulting question of one with my perception and observation.”

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry.”

He looked like thunder for a moment before smiling. “Forgive me. I couldn’t resist teasing you. Anyone who sees you two together and has half a brain, which most don’t, would see it. You two are ablaze when together. Alive, don’t you know? He is the tinder and you are the match. With each other, you make a stunning fire.”

A rueful smile tilted her lips. “He said something similar.”

“You see?”

“He also stated that such a blaze would consume us.”

“Oh dear,” he groaned. “He didn’t quote
Romeo and Juliet
, did he?”

“Yes.”

“I never would have guessed Aston to be so nauseatingly romantic and, I might add, self-pitying.”

She blinked.

“I beg your pardon if I’m being too blunt,” Basingstoke said factually but with growing indignation. “It’s nonsense. When there’s an obstacle, one overcomes it. One doesn’t wallow in poetry and self-slaughter painted as romance.”

Rosamund glanced out to the horizon which was now a soft glow of slate gray sea and hazy sky. “You’re not too blunt. I welcome your honesty. I suppose I never considered that he was wallowing in anything.”

“Well, he may not be entirely alone in that.”

She snapped her gaze back to Basingstoke. “Indeed?”

“You are standing here looking longingly back towards England as if you’ve left your soul there. I haven’t seen such a hangdog look since—“

“Sir, you’re about to overstep.”

Basingstoke laughed. “Ah. Yes. But if you ask me, you should depart this ship at the first port and turn about.”

“I—I can’t.”

There must have been terror in her face because his gaze softened and understanding dawned on his features.

“I see.”

“If you do, I pray you keep it to yourself.”

“I give you my promise. And I’m here if you need anything, but dear girl, I do think you’ve made a tremendous error.”

Tears stung her eyes. “Thank you. You are no doubt right.”

“Whatever the case may be, you do not need to feel adrift. I’m happy to be your friend.”

She tried to smile through her tears but failed. Perhaps she wasn’t entirely alone. If she allowed it. Still, the man she longed for wasn’t standing beside her. Oh, no. He was miles away in the greatest city on earth.

And she’d left him. Not the other way around.

That was something she’d have to live with for the rest of her empty life.

***

A
ston had barely slept in days. He kept waiting for word from Ros. Since the drunken night on his ship, he’d literally stayed in the room by his front door, leaving only to use the necessity and bathe. He’d been certain she’d send a note around, asking for his help. Accepting his hand.