Forgotten & Remembered - The Duke's Late Wife

by Bree Wolf

  As he remembered her words, Graham realized that she had not spoken them in anger. She had not thrown the truth at his feet in order to humiliate and shame him. She had only revealed her knowledge of Georgiana’s fatherhood to make him understand her situation. And she was right. Sending Georgiana away would hurt him as much as she said it would hurt her, but for once, he could not be selfish. He had made this decision because he believed it would be the best course of action for Georgiana and in the long run maybe even for all of them.

  However, from the desperate hope in her eyes, Graham could tell that she did not see it that way. She was exhausted, yes, but determination held her upright, and he knew that she would fight him every step of the way.

  Feeling his own energy resources depleted, Graham sank into his chair. Resting his elbows on the desk, he laced his fingers and bent his head. Just for a moment, he wanted to pretend that none of this had happened.

  Silence settled over the room, and he almost believed that she had left if it were not for the warmth that radiated from her body. It flowed to him in waves, washing over him, comforting, soothing. He closed his eyes and held on to the feeling of peace that invaded his soul. It had been a long time since he had felt at peace.

  She knew the truth, and she didn’t judge him. Never had he spoken about this situation with anyone. More than once he had been tempted, feeling the desperate need to voice his struggles and find comfort in another’s understanding. And yet, he hadn’t.

  However, he knew he couldn’t let that change anything. He had to put his emotions aside one last time and do what was best, what was right. He never should have agreed to marry Leonora in the first place. He knew that now. As much as he had loved her, she had only ever seen him as a friend. By pretending he would eventually win her heart, he had made them both unhappy.

  Out of nowhere, a small weight descended on his head. A delicate hand brushed back his hair, again and again, stroking his head as the other settled on his shoulder. He held his breath as her fingertips touched his neck.

  Instantly, goose bumps rose on his arms, and he had to suppress a moan that rose from his throat.

  Graham knew he needed to stop her before he revealed feelings he hadn’t even acknowledged to himself. He needed to get up and put some distance between them, and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to look at her, afraid to find understanding replaced by pity.

  “You must have loved her beyond hope,” she whispered, her voice breaking the silence. “She needed you, and you didn’t hesitate. You married her even though she carried the child of another man.” Head still hiding in his hands, Graham wondered how she knew all this. “You wanted to protect her, but you forgot what this would do to your own heart. And now you’re a father, and your child’s heart is the one to consider. I know you would never hurt her, not intentionally. You believe what you’re doing is the right thing, but…”

  He drew in a sharp breath. Could she really understand his motives? Did it matter? She still wanted nothing more than for him to change his mind, didn’t she?

  “But you’re wrong,” she said, confirming his suspicions. “What she needs are parents who love her, and I know that you do. Just like I am her mother, you are her father. If you could only see that. Do you really want her to live without family? All by herself? With no one to take care of her but servants?”

  “I do not,” he whispered and took a deep breath. Then he raised his head and looked up at her. As she withdrew her hands, he spoke, “And that is not what I have in mind.” He rose to his feet, and she took a step back. Again shame flooded his heart, but he pushed on before he could lose his nerve. “You are right. Georgiana deserves to be with her family.” At his words, relief washed over her, and her features began to relax. Cringing, Graham berated himself for phrasing it the way he had and giving her false hope. “But we are not her family. I am not her father, and you are not her mother.” Her face went white as his words pierced her heart. “She does not have a mother anymore. I cannot change that.” Again he took a deep breath, bracing himself for what was to come, knowing it was inevitable. “But she has a father.”

  For a while, she just stared at him, her mind working to make sense of his words and grasp the meaning they implied. Watching her closely, Graham saw the very moment as understanding filled her. Her eyes grew big, and all blood drained from her face. She swayed on her feet, and he wanted to reach out and steady her. Instead he remained where he was.

  “You…” Her voice rang too weak to form a complete sentence. Extending a hand, she held on to the bookshelf beside her. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and tried anew. “You want to return her?” she breathed, shock all but audible in her voice. “You want to take her back? To her father?”

  Not saying a word, Graham just nodded.

 

  Chapter Thirty-Five − A Crippling Fate

  Seeing his head bob up and down, Rosabel still couldn’t believe what he was saying. She had known that Georgiana was not his child for a while now, and yet, it had been far from her mind, everyday life keeping her too busy.

  Trying to understand what this strangely complicated situation felt like for him, Rosabel walked back around the desk, and, feeling her knees about to buckle, sank into the cushioned armchair.

  Watching him closely, she found him standing with his shoulders squared, chin raised as he looked down at her. His eyes remained calm, and not a muscle twitched out of place. Nothing betrayed that he was emotionally involved in this matter. In that very moment, his mask was perfect, and Rosabel feared that he, now more than ever, had made up his mind. This was his final decision.

  “Why?” was all Rosabel’s aching heart wanted to know.

  Pressing his lips together for a second, he placed his hands on the desk, leaning forward. Then, as though changing his mind, he sat down, elbows resting on the table top. “As I said before, this is the best course of action for all of us.” He sat back, regarding her with a levelled gaze. “You will come to see it in time.” He nodded to the door. “I suggest you say your goodbyes.”

  Rosabel drew in a deep breath. Unable to fight, for her knees were still as soft as pudding, and yet, unable to give up, Rosabel shifted in her chair to get more comfortable, eyes gazing out the window as memories flooded her mind.

  ***

  “I know what it is like to lose someone you love.” Eyes distant, she spoke as though recounting the memory of another, not her own. At least for now, her voice held no sadness, no pain. Only the distance that time offers, and for it rang all the truer. “My mother died when I was barely six years old. I had hoped for a brother or sister. Instead I lost my mother. And all of a sudden life changed.”

  As she stopped and her eyes closed for a moment, Graham knew he should interrupt her. He knew if he didn’t, her words would affect him. And yet, he did not move. Did not speak up. He just sat there watching her and realized he knew nothing about the woman he had chosen for his wife.

  Her eyes opened again, and she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. Then her gaze turned to him. “All that was left to me was my father.” He swallowed as her gaze seemed to drill a hole into his soul. “I know that he tried his best. He tried to smile and laugh, and he tried to make me smile and laugh, but in the end, it wasn’t enough.” A slight tremble shook her small frame. “He died not two years later. The doctor said he’d caught pneumonia.” She shook her head. “But I knew that it had been his heart. His heart had stopped beating the day my mother died, and without it, he could not go on. Not even for me.” Her eyes focused on him, and he fought the urge to look down. “I wasn’t enough to keep him in this world. And like my mother’s death, it changed everything.” Her hands entwined, she held on to something, anything that would give her the strength to go on. “I was alone.” Her gaze moved over his face then, and he felt himself wanting to squirm. “Maybe you know what it is like? To know that, all of a sudden, you don’t matter anymore, that no one in this world would be willing to wal
k through hell and back for you, that no one loved you without condition, without restraint. It is a terrible fate. Crippling and not easy to recover from.” Abandoning her scrutiny of his face, her eyes looked into his as she leaned forward, emphasizing the words she was about to say. “Do you want that for Georgiana?”

  Feeling the stare of her eyes like little needles piercing his heart, Graham swallowed.

  Then he rose from his chair and, without saying a word or even looking at her, fled the room.

  ***

  Dumbfounded, Rosabel stared at the empty seat as silent tears ran down her cheeks. For a long time, she just sat there, unable to get up, unable to form a coherent thought. What now? What would she do? Would he really take Georgiana away? Would she lose yet another loved one? After her mother and father, now her daughter?

  As the sun shone in the window, mocking the clouds settling over her heart, Rosabel wept, all fight leaving her body. She had tried. She had fought so bitterly, and yet, it all had been in vain. What was she to do now? Again and again the question assaulted her mind, and again and again she pushed it away, unable to face the future that lay ahead.

  Until a horse’s whinny reached her ear.

  Instantly, her head jerked up, tears brimming in her eyes. The carriage, her mind screamed. He is taking her away.

  Jumping off the chair, Rosabel flew out of the study and down the hall. Setting one foot in front of the other, she ran as her heart beat in her chest as though trying to outdistance her.

  When she reached the entrance hall, panting for breath, all the luggage was gone. And Georgiana was nowhere in sight.

  Brushing by Hanson, Rosabel almost tripped as she hastened out the door and down the front steps.

  While one carriage still stood by the windows of the front parlour patiently waiting, the other was slowly making its way down the drive. Without hesitation her mind urged her forward.

  The gravel churned under her feet, hindering her progress, but determination gave her tired limbs the strength they needed. Each step carried her closer to the door. Soon the handle was within reach.

  Before the carriage could pick up speed and leave her behind, Rosabel lunged forward, her hand closing around the handle and yanking open the door. Holding on as though for dear life, she pulled herself forward and set a foot into the carriage.

  Instantly, a hand grabbed her, pulling her in. Falling forward, Rosabel almost landed on the carriage floor if it weren’t for her husband’s arm steadying her. “What the blazes are you doing?” he asked, his eyes open wide in shock, matching Georgiana’s.

  Rosabel took a deep breath, “I’m coming.”

  He stared at her for a long time, but didn’t say a word as the carriage rattled down the drive, soon leaving Camden Hall behind.

  While Georgiana happily prattled on about the adventures that awaited them, her parents sat almost motionless, staring out their respective windows at the scenery before their eyes, not seeing anything though as their minds kept them occupied.

  Occasionally, Rosabel glanced in her husband’s direction, finding him equally lost in thought, wondering what his plans were. Whenever her eyes fell on Georgiana, a delighted smile on her lips as she read or played with her doll, Rosabel’s heart cringed at the mere thought of losing her little girl. How long had it been since she’d first thought of her as her daughter? Rosabel didn’t know. Didn’t care. Because it didn’t matter. She was Georgiana’s mother, and she would fight for her.

  Again glancing at her husband, Rosabel once more wondered what he planned to do. Surely he had to know that she would not relinquish her daughter willingly. Did he plan to leave her behind at some point on their journey? Did he mean to lock her up when …?

  Suddenly Rosabel’s mind stopped, realizing that she had no clue where they were headed. While she felt relatively certain that Georgiana had been named for her father, which would mean he carried the name George, she did not know who he was. There had to be a thousand Georges in England.

  Silently cursing herself for not inquiring after Georgiana’s father when she had the chance, Rosabel leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms, disgusted with herself. Watching Georgiana’s eyes light up as they passed a small clearing where a doe was tending to her fawn, Rosabel knew she could not ask with the girl present. She would have to wait.

  Oh, how she hated waiting!

 

  Chapter Thirty-Six − Answers Revealed

  Shortly after darkness fell, they reached an inn, its lit windows shining like beacons in the blackness of night. Muscles sore from the rattling of the carriage and her own pent-up tension, Rosabel sighed as she took her first steps outside, stretching her tired limbs.

  Georgiana had fallen asleep with her head in her father’s lap. At first, he had seemed highly uncomfortable, trying to extract himself without waking her. When that, however, had proved impossible, he had settled into his seat, a hand on her shoulder. Out of the corner of her eyes, Rosabel had watched his posture relax before long, his hand occasionally caressing her head, stroking her hair absentmindedly.

  More than anything else, this sign of his affection for his daughter, blood-related or not, had lifted Rosabel’s spirit. There had to be a way she could make him see the error of his ways.

  Gently, her husband carried Georgiana into the inn, up the flight of stairs and carefully laid her down on her bed. While Rosabel quickly removed the most uncomfortable items of the girl’s clothing like boots and coat, her husband stood beside the bed, eyes focused on his daughter’s sleeping face.

  Sighing in her dreams, a smile lifted the corners of her mouth, and her father’s eyes lit up, a smile of his own curling his lips.

  In the end, Rosabel had to take him by the arm and lead him out into the hall. Quietly closing the door, she turned to face him. A smile on her lips, she gazed into his eyes. “You love her. Do not deny it?”

  Instantly his face changed. The quiet, serene joy that had illuminated his eyes turned dark. His lips thinned and he swallowed, brushing a hand through his hair. “Your room is next to Georgiana’s.” He quickly bowed to her. “I bid you good night.”

  Before he could take two steps, Rosabel brushed past him, stepping in his way. Holding out a hand, she stopped him in his tracks, his chest slamming into her outstretched arm. “If you insist on pretending that this,” she pointed to the door Georgiana lay behind sleeping, “is not breaking your heart, I have to tell you that I do feel sorry for you, my lord.” His eyes narrowed, but she hastened on before he could comment, “But I do insist you tell me where we are headed!”

  A frown settled on his face. “I did tell you.”

  “You merely hinted at returning Georgiana to her real father,” Rosabel corrected, squaring her shoulders. “But you failed to explain who he is and where he resides.”

  Crossing his arms, her husband eyed her carefully. “That does not concern you, my lady. You should not even be here.”

  “But I am.”

  “So?”

  “So, tell me!”

  Hesitating for only a second, he whispered a quick good night, brushed past her, opened the door to his room and vanished inside.

  For a moment, Rosabel just stood in the hall, cursing herself for allowing him to run off yet again. However, as she turned to enter her own room, she realized that he had indeed not escaped yet. He had merely retired to his room, and Rosabel did not remember hearing a key turning in the lock.

  A triumphant smile on her face, she stepped forward and, without knocking, pushed open the door and stepped inside.

  Hearing her steps, he spun around, surprise visible on his face. “What the blazes are you doing in here? This is hardly proper,” he said, fingers working to re-button his shirt.

  Rosabel snorted, closing the door behind her. “I doubt that. I am your wife after all.”

  “That may be true, but your room is still across the hall,” he said, pointing past her shoulder. “Do you need further directions?”

>   Her back brushing the door when she shifted from one foot to the other, Rosabel crossed her arms, fixing him with her eyes. “Speak of what you like, but I assure you I will not leave this room until I have answers.”

  Jaw tightening, he once more raked his hands through his hair, eyes frantically searching for a way out. “Why do you insist on knowing?”

  Rosabel could hear the desperation in his voice. “Because she is my daughter.”

  “She is not−”

  Lifting a hand, she stepped toward him. “I know, but she is. We can argue about this all night if you prefer, or you could tell me now and we can both get some sleep.”

  Exhaling slowly, he closed his eyes. When they opened again, Rosabel knew she had at least won this battle. “We are going to London.”

  Rosabel nodded. “I suspected as much. But where exactly? Who is he?”

  “He is an old friend.” Wringing his hands, he started pacing. When he remained silent, Rosabel asked, “Fine. But what makes you think he would even take her back? If he cared about her at all, would he not have married Leonora back then? I still don’t understand why they could not get married. I mean, I know his father had objections, but what could they have been? She was the daughter of a family of the peerage, a family of means. How could that not have been enough?”

  Staring at her, he shook his head, probably wondering how she knew all that. “It was not that simple. He had…a duty. He could not marry for love.”

  “Fine, even if it wasn’t for love, she was still a good match. Why would his father have objected? Was there some kind of family feud?”

  He shook his head. “No, their families had been close for generations. Allies even.”

  “Then I don’t see the problem.”

  Sinking onto his bed, he hung his head as though unable to hold himself upright any longer. “It was complicated. Their families had been connected for generations. They did not need to marry their children to achieve this. Instead, they sought other connections.”