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That done, he nodded grimly and rose to standing. Before he could turn away, however, she reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing it.
“Please take care of yourself, Daniel.”
“I will,” he said with a smile that felt so stiff he thought his cheeks would fracture. Then, bending to kiss her, he was off, down the hall to his room. Trying not to notice how his steps faltered as he passed by Margery’s door.
All too soon he and Wilkins were off. The carriage rattled down Seacliff’s drive, and Daniel kept his gaze out to the horizon, refusing to look back at the manor house. He didn’t know what would be worse: seeing her there, watching him leave, or not seeing her at all.
He sat in silence for a time as the carriage rattled down the gradual incline from the cliff-top house, feeling his loss like a leaden cloak about his shoulders. Memories swirled: Margery that first night when she’d asked him to hire her; her smile when they’d attended the Assembly Rooms concert; that first kiss at the tide pool; the determination in her eyes when she’d suggested they conduct an affair. And then, so vibrant it stole the breath from his lungs, making love to her, feeling her come alive in his arms, even as she’d broken down the barriers that he’d so carefully built up about his heart.
But soon the memories were supplanted by other harsher memories: their fight after she’d defended him from Mr. Pickering; her seated beside Gregory; the anguish in her eyes when he’d revealed his part in Aaron’s death. He ran a hand over his face, trying to erase the memories. But he knew, deep in his heart, he’d never be free of them.
Impotence reared up in him, that he could never repair the pain of the past, could never fix what had been broken.
Suddenly he straightened, determination racing through his veins, an electrical current. He might not be able to turn back time. But he’d be damned if he would go forward without rectifying some of the past wrongs.
He reached up and knocked on the roof. Wilkins gave him a curious look but said nothing as the coachman slowed the carriage and opened the trap door.
“Your Grace?”
“Please make a stop at the Master-at-Arms Inn before we leave.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
As Daniel settled back against the squabs, he caught Wilkins’s gaze again. A quiet pride shone from his eyes, satisfaction fairly oozing from him. Though humor was the last thing he was feeling just then, Daniel’s lips quirked. “You approve?”
“I do,” the man said with a small smile.
In no time they had pulled up to the inn. “I’ll be back momentarily,” he said to the coachman before making his way inside, Wilkins behind him. Gregory’s room was easy enough to find out from the harried innkeeper. It seemed his cousin had not made any friends in his short time on Synne. Soon Daniel was making his way up the narrow stairs, the key he had paid to obtain clasped tightly in his fist. A swift turn in the lock, and he sent the door crashing against the wall.
Gregory, sprawled amid the rumpled sheets, a naked woman curled against his side, startled awake. Arms and legs flailing, he lurched to sitting, pointedly ignoring the shrieking woman as she tried to drag the sheets over her body. “What the hell…? Danny?”
Daniel glared down at him. “I am Carlisle to you. Or Duke. Or Your Grace. But never refer to me by that name again.”
His cousin scowled, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “Damnation, what the devil is wrong with you, man?”
“I’m waking up, finally, to the person you are. And that you won’t change.” Limping to the bed, he reached down to the floor and took up a blanket that had been thrown there. “Miss?” he said, offering his hand to the woman, who was looking at him in shock. When the woman continued to stare, he gently placed the blanket about her shoulders and, taking her arm, helped her to stand.
“Wilkins,” he said over his shoulder, “please retrieve the lady’s clothes, and provide her with coin to get home safely.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“I say,” Gregory scowled, lurching after the girl. “You can’t come in here and take my whore from me. I paid for her time, and it’s not yet up.”
Daniel took his cane and pressed it against Gregory’s chest, sending him falling back among the sheets. “You will not refer to the lady as such in my presence, is that understood? Your time is done; she is free to go.”
Gregory merely stared in outrage, his handsome face flushed bright pink. Behind Daniel he heard Wilkins talking in a low voice to the woman as he helped her dress, the clink of coins as he passed them over to her, her hasty thanks. And then the door closed, leaving him alone with his cousin.
“I came here to tell you I’m leaving for London. Also, I do not want to ever see your face darken my door again, is that clear?”
Gregory’s mouth dropped open. “You’re cutting me off?”
“You’re very perceptive.”
“But…I’m like a brother to you!”
A snarl curled Daniel’s upper lip. He felt it tighten his scars, but for once he relished what it might do to his features, at the danger it might lend him. “You were never like a brother to me. You took my only brother from me. You’ve been a devil in our midst this whole while. And, God help me, I didn’t see it until it was too late.”
For the first time in the exchange, the hint of uncertainty was finally seeping into his cousin’s eyes. He gaped at Daniel like a fish. “What the ever-loving—I don’t know who the hell you think you are—”
