Page 74 of To Dare a Duke

Helena’s voice was low and soft and full of reassurance. “You’ll never know unless you speak to her, Robert. You’ll figure it out, but I don’t think you’ve got anything to worry about.”

Robert nodded, squared his shoulders, and followed the butler down the hall to the woman he loved.

She was facing away from him, staring out of a window at the gardens. The weather was still foul, rain lashing at the glass, the wind howling like a tormented soul as it funnelled around the great house. Robert rather thought he might do the same if the next few minutes didn’t go as he hoped.

“Prue?” he said, his voice soft as the butler closed the door on them.

She almost jumped out of her skin at the sound of his voice and then turned and gave an awkward curtsey. “Your grace,” she said, head bowed, not meeting his eyes.

Robert’s heart sank. That was not an auspicious beginning.

“Thank you for seeing me,” she said in a rush.

Her posture was rigid, her gloved hands gripping the handle of a small reticule, her complexion pale. She looked tired, he thought, as if she’d slept little of late, and badly at that.

He knew how she felt.

“I won’t take up much of your time,” she hurried on, still avoiding his eye. “I just wanted to come and face you and tell you I was sorry, so… so sorry, for what I did. I believed everything that was said about you. I listened to gossip, and I believed you were a villain and that you deserved all the wicked things I wrote about you, but then I met you and… and I realised, almost at once, that it wasn’t true.”

She stopped, swallowing hard and staring down at her toes. Robert waited, sensing she needed to say this, that she had been waiting to say the words that poured from her now. He watched as she drew in a deep breath and stood a little straighter.

“I tried to stop the worst, the most damning chapter from publication. You must understand, I did not know the circumstances of your wife’s death. If I had… but in any case, I should have tried to stop it sooner… but it was so hard to believe… to believe in you. I wanted to believe in you so badly, you see.”

She looked up then, meeting his eyes and flushing hard, the colour vivid against her pallor until she turned away, turning her back on him. As she spoke, she stared out at the storm, which grew ever fiercer, skies darkening further by the moment.

“My father was a charismatic man. Charming and funny, so very likable, and such a liar. My mother believed in him, over and over she believed in his lies, but they were always lies. He always smiled and promised her the world, that she’d be safe, that she could trust him, that they would be happy. The world thought him a good man, they thought my mother a lucky woman, and as he ground her into the dirt, everyone felt sorry for him for having married such a faded, listless creature,”

Robert’s heart clenched at the sorrow in her voice, his chest aching as he heard her voice tremble, heard her strength as she continued.

“But he did it. He broke her heart and her spirit. She was clever and bright and loving, and he took that from her. He took her from me. I swore no man would ever do that again, not to me. I would never marry, never believe the lies men tell. I would live my own life, alone and stronger for it. Except… all men are not the same, and I forgot that. I forgot that everyone deserves a chance, everyone deserves a second chance, too, and I didn’t give you one.”

Robert waited, but she didn’t speak again, and he dared to move a step closer.

“Yes, you did,” he said, wishing she would turn around so he could see her face. She gave a humourless huff of laughter.

“Too late,” she said, the words heavy. He could see the weight of them crushing her.

“No,” Robert replied, taking another step, longing to just pull her into his arms and kiss her, but aware that she was fragile, and too full of pain and guilt to allow him that. “Not too late.”

She nodded, and he saw her raise a hand and wipe her cheeks with a brisk, no nonsense movement. “Good,” she said, the word decisive. She turned then, shoulders square, chin up. “I’m glad the ending put things right, how they ought to be. You’re a good man and… and I hope that people will see that now.”

To his astonishment, she held out her hand to him, as if he might shake it. Robert frowned down at it.

“Well, that’s all I came to say. I’ll… I’ll not take up any more of your time.”

She stood there, pale and trembling, expecting him to shake her hand and dismiss her. As he made no move to take it, her hand dropped and she flushed, dipping into a curtsey instead.

“Good afternoon, your grace.”

His heart gave an uncomfortable thud in his chest, kicking at his ribs at the idea she might walk out of the door again, jolting him out of his shock.

“Don’t go.”

She paused, daring to look up at him.

“Didn’t you see it?” he asked, his voice gentle, smiling at her now. “I thought I’d been so clever in telling you how I felt, but… but you didn’t see it, did you?”

“S-See what?” she stammered, her colour rising, one hand moving to press against her heart.