The Duchess War (Brothers Sinister #1)(98)

Her head was ringing. “Just like that?”

“No scenes. No arguments. No need to throw anything.” He finally looked up and gave her a tired smile. “You’ll have anything you want; just ask for it.”

If anything, the footmen had begun to pack faster, as if to prove that their ears could not hear what was being said.

Minnie walked slowly into the room to stand before him. “I don’t understand. Are you saying—”

“I know what happened out there. You only married me because I told you that I would protect you. And I just—”

“One moment, Robert.” Minnie waved her hand at the servants. “I think you’d all best go now. In fact, I think it would be best if you could clear the wing for the next hour or so.”

A pause. One footman looked at the cravats he carried. Another glanced at the duke, who squared his jaw and said nothing.

Minnie clapped her hands. “Leave everything and go.” They scattered.

Minnie turned around. Lydia was still standing in the doorway connecting their two rooms, watching with wide eyes. She held up her hands. “I am already gone,” she said. “Come see me later, Minnie.”

She cast Robert a hard glance and then she, too, disappeared.

They waited, listening, until the retreating footsteps faded into the distance.

And then Minnie set her hands on his chest, and gave him a hard shove. “Robert, you idiot, what in blazes are you thinking?”

“I had to.” He stared at her. “I had to. He was my brother, and I had to—”

“Oh, you stupid man.” She gave him another shove, and he stumbled back, his legs hitting the bed. “That is not what I’m talking about.”

“I left a note,” he said. “This morning. I should have talked to you about it sooner. I should have woken you up. It took me that long to come to my senses. I feel sick, thinking that you were exposed to that simply because—”

“I got your note,” Minnie said. “I read it. I decided you were right.”

“You did…you did what?” He blinked at her stupidly.

“I got your note,” Minnie repeated. “I read it. I decided your initial impulse was right. There was no hiding the truth of my identity. It was going to come out no matter what we did. That meant the only thing on the line for me was a little humiliation. Compared to your brother’s life, what would that mean?”

“Minnie!” He sounded horrified. “But you—”

She put her hand on his shoulder. “You had to tell everyone the truth of my past to save your brother from being ostracized. Do you imagine that I would have insisted on your silence, with that at stake? Yes, that scene was awful. Yes, I never want to do anything like it again. I don’t like it when people look at me. I can’t breathe. I can’t see straight.” She looked at him. “It was awful, but it was not the end of the world. And you think it means the end of our marriage?”

He blinked. “It…isn’t?” Finally, he looked her in the eyes. He looked surprised, stunned even. “But you’re angry with me. I can see it.”

“Of course I’m angry.”

He shook his head. “Then… Aren’t you going to leave?”

“Of course I’m angry,” she repeated. “Because I thought I meant something to you. And you’re willing to walk away simply because you can’t be bothered to patch things up.”

“Can’t be bothered…” he repeated in a stunned voice. He looked at her. He turned and looked at the half-packed trunks, at the pile of cravats the footman had abandoned on a chest of drawers.

“I just…” His voice was soft and tired. “I don’t understand. I hurt you. I knew I was going to do it, and I did it anyway. How can I make that right? I can’t tell you not to be angry. You should be angry. You deserve to be angry.”

This was the man whose mother had walked away from him as a child. This was the man whose father had seen him as nothing more than a tool to extract money from other pockets. Robert had forgiven Minnie for her earlier deception. But he had so little expectation of forgiveness for himself that he couldn’t even ask for it.

Minnie reached out and took his hand. “Do you know why I am furious? Because you would rather leave than try to make our marriage work.”

He searched her eyes. “I…”

“I know. You don’t want to fight. But fights don’t destroy a marriage. Not making up does.”

He swallowed. “You want to fight?”

“Yes. And I want you to say that you were terribly, desperately, sordidly wrong.”

He flinched. “I was. I know I was.”

“I want to believe you when you apologize. I want to know in my soul that you would never do anything to hurt me. I want you to promise me that next time this happens, you’ll come talk to me first, and we’ll decide what to do together.”

He was looking at her, his head cocked.

“And then, when you’ve done all that, I want to forgive you.” Her eyes filled with tears.

“But why do you want to do all that?”

“Because I love you,” she said. “I love you. I love you.”

He let out a deep breath. “You’re certain?” he said quietly.