Page 42 of An Orphan for the Broken Duke

In response, those around the table muttered their apologies, but none were able to look Rhys in the eyes as they did.

As for Violet? She stared in bewilderment at her husband.

It might have been easy for her to dismiss his comments as a simple desire to protect his own reputation, because what people said of her was reflected on him. And as their marriage was one of convenience, there was every reason that she ought to have assumed that was why he said what he did.

But she looked closely at Rhys. She saw his anger, just as she felt his need to protect her. It was more than words. It was more than embarrassment or pride. It was, in her opinion, proof that he cared for her, that he wanted to protect her, and that there was little he would not do to prove that he would.

Violet smiled as she came to realize this. It stood in stark contrast with the unabashed looks of horror and shame on the faces of those around the table, but she did not care. She smiled so that her husband saw it, and she smiled so that he might feel how grateful she was.

This marriage—one started for convenience—suddenly felt like so much more. And stranger still, Violet did not mind that one little bit.

Once supper had ended, she and Rhys did not stay for drinks. They were quick to leave, led by Rhys, who strode from the dining room as if fleeing a crime scene.

Violet hurried in beside him, thinking of taking him by the arm but resisting that urge. He visibly trembled, and he was red in the face.

“You did not have to do that,” she said to him as they crossed the foyer. “Truly, there was no need.”

He sneered. “I will not have my wife spoken to like that.”

She hesitated. “I suppose it would have reflected poorly on you.”

At the door, Rhys stopped suddenly. Then he turned and looked at her as if her words had upset him. “That has nothing to do with…” He clenched his jaw and bit back his rage. “Violet, when I married you, it was not just Lucy who I swore to protect. You are my wife. I care for you, and I will do anything I can to make sure that you feel safe. That is why I said what I did.”

Again, Violet smiled. It came from her chest; her heart rising from her throat and spreading across her face so that she wondered if she glowed. “Thank you, Rhys. For… well, for everything.”

“Of course,” he said, sighing with relief. “Now, shall we leave this place? It is funny that I worried about what you might say, when I was the one who…” He shook his head to himself. “Perhaps we are more alike than I care to admit.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No,” he said, allowing a soft smile. “Not at all.”

Fifteen

Rhys ought to have been in bed. Sleeping. It had been a most troubling evening, one that he wanted to put behind him, and possibly even forget. While he had known that going to supper at Lord and Lady Fairview’s home had been a risk, he had not considered just how risky it would be… and how much worse it would make things for him.

What else could I have done? Should I have said nothing? Should I have let them mock her?

That was an option that did not much appeal to Rhys, and while he did not regret what he had said, he knew that he would likely come to regret the consequences of his words.

Unable to find sleep, he found himself wandering through his home. He had nowhere to go, so he let his feet lead him, and it was not a surprise when they saw him enter Lucy’s nursery.

Although the room was dark, he could not ignore how much brighter and warmer it felt than when he had first had it made. The white walls were painted now; one blue, one yellow, one green. And on the fourth wall was a mural which depicted a fairytale scene of various mythical creatures playing together under a rainbow. It was unlike anything that he could have devised, which was not a surprise, and only served to remind him further just how out of his depth he was.

Nonetheless, he crept across the room to Lucy’s cot. She was fast asleep, but she held in her arms that same wooden horse that she had given him a week ago.

He smiled as he watched her sleep. And he smiled further when he imagined what her dreams might be. She looked happy and perfectly at peace, as if she did not have a care in the world.

How nice that might feel.

Rhys had done so much wrong in his life. Always, his thoughts returned to his sister and how he had driven her away. Had he been a different type of man, he would have stopped and listened to her, he would have considered her position, he would have…

No, there was no point thinking about what ifs and maybes. The sad fact was, Rhys was not that person, and what he did was done precisely because he did not know any other way.

But he wanted to do better. He was determined to change. And as he looked down at Lucy, as he saw her smile and sleep peacefully, he dared to tell himself that he was changing.

For all the wrong that he had done, adopting her was the right thing. And while it might not bring Eleanor back, while it might not help him to find his nephew, it would at least ease some of the guilt that he carried daily.

But is it too late? No matter how much good I do now, does it even matter?