Loved by a Duke (The Heart of a Duke #4)(81)

Daisy groaned. The sound tore from her throat, painful. “No. No. No,” she moaned, tossing her head back and forth. She released the journal and clamped her hands over her ears to blot out his voice.

A heavy sheen of tears filled his eyes, those useless, empty, meaningless expressions. More lies. “I didn’t kill him.” He dragged a hand over his face. “But he was there because of me…and, ah, God Daisy the guilt of that will always be with me.”

Tears flooded her own eyes and she blinked them away. A drop streaked a path down her cheek, followed by another, and another, until the torrents opened, and she openly sobbed. She folded her arms about her waist and hugged herself tight, but it did little to drive back the pained agony threatening to rip her apart. She’d heard nothing more than faint whisperings about that dark night. For what had transpired had been too dark and too vile for even the gossips to boldly bandy about before polite Society. Now, she knew the truth. Auric and Lionel and Marcus had gone to the unfashionable ends of London…to know the pleasures of a whore and, in the end, her brother, who by Auric’s account had not wanted to go, had paid with his life.

She pressed her eyes closed, her body wracked with silent sobs, as at last it all made sense. “Th-that is why y-you came around,” she managed to rasp out between shuddering cries. That loyalty, that sense of obligation to her, and Mother, and Father, had been his attempt at an absolution of his guilt. And ultimately, that guilt had led him to marriage—to her, neglected and uncared for, sad, lonely Daisy Meadows.

Auric reached out for her and she swatted his hand away.

“Is that why you came ’round all these years?” she demanded in a soft, steady voice.

He allowed his fingers to drop to his side. “At first,” he conceded, his eyes tortured. He was tortured? He who’d lied, and then ultimately wedded her, out of guilt, was tortured? He cared nothing more than she’d discovered the truths of his deception.

Daisy wrenched her gaze from his and alternated it to the book in her hands. “Of course, how stupid I was to not see,” she whispered to herself. “You all but threw suitors into my proverbial path, coming by with Lord Astor and speaking to me of marriage…because you felt obligated to see me cared for.” If she’d been married, then he’d not have to pay her visits.

“I enjoyed seeing you, Daisy,” he said lamely.

A mirthless laugh bubbled past her lips, scaring her with the vitriol there. “You enjoyed seeing me?” Her laughter redoubled.

Auric took another step toward her and when she again held her hand out to stop him, this time he continued coming anyway. “Stop,” she pleaded. He captured her shoulders in a grip that was both gentle and firm, staying her retreat.

“I’ll not lie to you.” He flushed again. “Any more than I already have. Guilt brought me to visit. When I saw you, I remembered everything I’d cost you and your family.” And still he’d wed her anyway.

Goodness his guilt must be great. She slid her gaze away from his. Bitterness tasted rusty and dry in her mouth.

Auric spoke on a rush. “Then I saw you at Gipsy Hill and initially I was fearful of your well-being, but then I saw you, Daisy.” He gave her a gentle squeeze. “I truly saw you. And I hated Astor and every other man who might be a husband to you, because I wanted that role.”

She shook her head, dispelling more of his lies. How could he expect her to believe anything uttered from his traitorous lips?

“I love you,” he said, lowering his brow to hers. “I always loved you, Daisy, even when you were a girl dogging my footsteps. It just took me a bit longer to open my eyes and see you’d become the woman I adored, the woman I could not live without, the woman—”

She wrenched herself from his grip and spun away from him, needing to put distance between them and the riotous emotions churning through her. “Stop,” she pleaded. For when he spoke he made her want to forget everything that had come to pass and continue on as the couple they’d been last night. Had it only been a night ago?

Daisy retreated another step and another, until she’d placed the leather, winged back chairs between them. She glanced blankly down at the damning pages that contained more truths than anything else Auric, the Duke of Crawford, had uttered in the past seven years. “You didn’t love me,” she said softly, to herself. “Not truly. You never saw me as anything more than Lionel’s sister.” She closed her eyes. “Where I, I only saw you.” All these years she’d simply wanted someone to see her, truly see her, Daisy Meadows. She’d not wanted to be an object of pity or sympathy. In the end, with Auric’s obligatory offer of marriage, he’d consigned her to a marriage based on those very sentiments she detested. Daisy opened her eyes. Auric stood, commanding and powerful in all his masculine glory. She bit hard on the inside of her cheek, wanting him to say something, anything. Except no words were coming. No profession of love. As much as she would hate him for his deception, he would always own her heart. “What a fool I’ve been,” she whispered.

“No.” That word emerged a garbled croak.

Daisy tightened her grip on the leather volume. “You speak of love and obligation, but none of that was ever about me or love, Auric.” Her lip peeled back in a sneer. “It was only about you. It was about your guilt and your regret and trying to find peace inside yourself.” She tossed the book at him, where it landed ineffectually at his feet. The thick sheen of tears blurred his image and she swiped angrily at the flowing signs of weakness. “You sought to replace Lionel, failing to realize that I didn’t want a brother. I had a brother. I had a brother and he died.” Daisy held his gaze. “I wanted a husband, Auric.” I wanted you.