Page 60 of An Orphan for the Broken Duke

Every piece of good sense that lived inside of him screamed at him to do so. The nightmare from the previous night meant he did not go back to sleep, and those visceral images and the memories that they scarred through his brain sat with him as night turned into morning.

To go back to how things had been was safer. To simply cut Vioet from his life was surely the right thing to do? Not the easy thing, but in the long run, he had to believe that he was doing it for her.

Or am I doing it for myself… and does that even matter? As long as she is kept safe from me?

In the end, he could not resist the urge to see her again. It really was that simple. Despite his reservations and his fears, the thought of not looking upon her perfect face and seeing her in the clear light of day was haunting unto itself, and Rhys hoped that perhaps in so doing he might be afforded some clarity.

He did not want things to go back to how they had been, ignoring Violet, cutting her from his life completely. But he did not want to risk hurting her with the inevitable misery and pain that was sure to come if they grew too close… if they cared too much.

So, he determined to see her, and then he would decide.

“Good morning!” Violet was already seated for breakfast, as was Lucy. And when Rhys walked into the breakfast room she sat up, a smile broke across her face, and the sun which broke through the window seemed to shine that little bit brighter. “Someone slept well.”

Rhys balked in the doorway.

As expected, Violet was even more beautiful than he remembered. And it went beyond physical beauty. There was just something about her presence that pierced him through the chest so that his heart exploded. It was how she looked at him that did it, that sense of trust that she afforded him for reasons that he did not deserve.

No… I did this. I wormed my way into her trust. I trapped her without her even knowing it.

“Are you going to join us?” she laughed because Rhys stood frozen in the doorway. “Lucy has been speaking of nothing but you all morning.”

“I have not!” Lucy cried while also giggling.

Violet winked at her. “Oh yes, you are right. That was me.”

He wanted to sit and join them. He wanted to renew those feelings that had been shared last evening. He wanted to prove to himself that they were not fleeting, and that if he dared to try, that he and Violet might see them grow like well-watered roses basking in the summer sun.

But then his memories attacked him… washed over him so that he stumbled back. His sister’s tears. His anger. And the sadness felt when he learned of her fate… a fate that he had caused.

What Rhys wanted did not matter, and that was a truth he had accepted long before Violet came into his life. Worse still, to lie about it, to try and fix it, was wrong and selfish, because some wounds were beyond healing. Some scars simply ran too deep.

I am sorry, Violet. Please, forgive me…

“Not today.” Rhys straightened up and forced himself to look plainly upon Violet; no indication of all that he could hardly stop himself from gaping. “I am busy.”

“Oh.” She blinked at the sharpness of his response but then laughed it off. “A shame, as for the first time in weeks I find myself with nothing but free time. I wonder what I will do with it…” She let that question trail and looked expectantly at him.

“I am sure you will think of something,” he said simply.

Again, she blinked, and that time she did not laugh it away. Rather, she looked at Rhys with confusion; only then did she seem to notice how strangely he was acting.

“Rhys, is something the matter?” she ventured.

“Not that all,” he said. “Why would it be?”

“I…” Her brow furrowed. “No reason. Perhaps later we might go for another walk? I rather enjoyed our one last evening.”

Rhys resisted the urge to grimace. His thoughts tried to return to the garden last evening, the moment they shared, and that kiss. His body tried to react to it, pulses erupting, tingling cascading across his skin that had his heart soaring. But he pushed those back.

“Unlikely,” he said stiffly. “I will be busy all day. I just wished to let you know.” He looked pointedly at her, no emotion on his face, as removed as was possible.

Violet finally seemed to understand what was going on. And while he might have liked to have seen anger flare behind her eyes, what he saw instead was worse: acceptance and complete understanding, as if she ought to have known this was going to happen.

“Thank you for letting me know,” she said.

“Of course, and if you need anything, I would prefer you ask the staff first and have them sent to me. Mr. Marrow would be best.” He nodded once, refused to meet Violet’s eyes, then turned and walked from the room.

He did not stop walking until he reached his office.