Unmasking the Duke's Mistress (Gentlemen of Disrepute #1)(57)

The words hung in the air between them. Words that, had he uttered them yesterday, would have filled her with such joy. Now they broke her heart.

She gave a strangled breathy laugh at the irony of it and squeezed her eyes shut to stop the tears. ‘Now you tell me.’ She felt a tear escape to trickle down her cheek and wiped it away with the heel of her hand.

‘I’ve never stopped loving you,’ he said.

‘You never told me. You never said it.’ Her self-control was stretched so thin she could not think ahead, could only handle the awfulness of the situation one second at a time.

‘I am sorry that I made such a hash of the proposal.’ He raked a hand through his hair. ‘But why else did you think that I asked you to marry me?’

‘For Archie. Out of duty.’

‘That is only a part of it. I am marrying you because I love you, Arabella. I should have told you.’

‘Oh, God,’ she whispered. ‘Please do not make this any harder than it already is. I cannot marry you, Dominic.’ The tears were running down her cheeks now and she could not stop them. ‘I cannot.’


He moved to her.

She backed away, stumbling, as she bumped against an armchair. Dominic caught her and pulled her to him, his hands gripping her upper arms tight as he stared down into her face.

‘I know that you love me too, Arabella.’

She shook her head, but could not say the words to deny it. ‘I cannot marry you,’ She clung to the mantra, knowing that she dare not trust herself to say much else.

‘You are out before all of society. Fading into the background to be my mistress once more is not an option.’

‘I cannot marry you and I cannot be your mistress. I have to go away, Dominic, away from you and away from London. Tonight.’

He gave a hard-edged laugh that rang with incredulity. ‘And you think I will let you go, just like that?’ He shook his head and she could see the determination in his eye. ‘I do not know what this is about, Arabella, but I told you before and I meant it, I have no intention of losing you again. And I have no intention of losing the son that I have only just found.’

And she was more afraid than ever because she recognised that implacable look on his face. ‘You have to release me and Archie, Dominic.’

‘No, Arabella, I do not.’ His jaw was set firm.

‘Please.’ She looked directly into his eyes for the first time. His life and that of their child hung in the balance. ‘I am begging you, Dominic. Believe me when I tell you that it is better this way.’

‘Better?’ His eyes held hers with possession and fierce protectiveness and suspicion. ‘You know that I love you. I would make you my wife, my duchess. I would give you and Archie everything you desire. And I know that you love me. So what are you running from, Arabella?’

He was coming too near the truth without even knowing what it was he was risking. She looked at him, this man that she loved so much, and she knew what she had to say to make him release her. To say it would kill a part of her for ever. But it would save him. And it would save Archie.

She looked into his eyes, so like those of their son. Inside her chest she felt the slowing of her heart. And inside her mind she felt a shutter close.

‘You are mistaken, Dominic. I do not love you.’ The words slipped from her mouth, slowly, quietly, to lie in the room between them. She felt as if she had screamed them at the top of her voice. She saw the shock in his eyes, the hurt, the pain, the disbelief. And it was as if she had taken a knife and plunged it into her own heart, and twisted that blade as cruelly as she could.

The clock on the mantel marked the seconds.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

‘I do not believe you,’ he whispered.

‘I do not love you,’ she said again, and her heart beat once…and twice…and a third time. There was nothing of warmth left in her. Where once blood had flowed in her veins there was only ice.

He stared down into her face and she saw the depth of the wound she had dealt him. She realised that in hurting him so badly she was destroying herself.

And still she stood there, so still, so immobile, and she did not allow herself to think, only to speak the lies.

‘And you have only just decided this?’ She saw the dangerous darkening of his eyes and the slight raising of one of his eyebrows. The hurt was still there, but there was anger before it, vying with incredulity. If she weakened in the slightest, if she gave him one sign of the truth… She grasped the handle of the knife that was already within her heart and stabbed it even deeper.

‘I should not have pretended otherwise.’ Her heart broke apart. She looked away because she could not bear to see the raw pain in his eyes. ‘You pretended?’ She could hear his anger. But she could bear his anger better than his hurt.

‘Yes,’ she said and forced herself to meet his eyes.

‘When we were making love? When you cried out your pleasure as I spilled my seed within you? When I lay with you all the night through?’ he demanded savagely.

‘Yes,’ she said again. And it was easier now that she could see his fury was taking over. She had to make him believe her.

The silence hissed between them. The seconds seemed too long. She stood there and waited, waited and waited, beneath the blast of his scrutiny, until at last he said,