Page 74 of More or Less a Countess
Perhaps it was still broken.
Lord Derrick. Graham’s best friend, and so like Graham one could hardly tell them apart when they were boys.
Lord Derrick. Such an ideal gentleman. So perfect in every way.
So much more like Graham than Nick had ever been.
Than he ever could be.
Whatever the state of his wife’s heart, it didn’t belong tohim. She might feel affection for him, attraction even, but no lady who’d loved Lord Derrick could ever fall in love with him. It was absurd to even hope for it, as absurd as…
As imagining he could take Graham’s place.
He’d already tried, and he’d failed, and his father had never forgiven him for it. He’d learned to live with the burden of his father’s disappointment, but if the same were to happen with Violet, if he should fail her as he’d failed his father…
If?
A bitter laugh broke from his lips. There was no question he’d fail her. How could he not? He couldn’t be Lord Derrick, any more than he’d been able to be Graham.
Nick tapped his clenched fist against his forehead. Just thinking about Violet and Lord Derrick drove him mad. It made him want to hurt Violet as badly as she’d hurt him. Last night he’d succeeded, but her tears hadn’t made him feel any better.
They’d made him feel as if his heart were being ripped from his chest.
What a pity his father wasn’t still alive. The old earl would have been so gratified to find he’d been right all along—that Nick was no better a husband than he’d been a son.
There was no future for him and Violet now—no going forward from this. He’d been a fool to think a marriage that began with a lie would ever become anything other than that. He’d done as his aunt asked. He’d married, and he’d remain in England long enough to fulfill the rest of his promise to Lady Westcott, but after that he was leaving England, where it was cold and wet and he’d be forced to make peace with his new brother-in-law, the haughty Marquess of Huntington.
He’d return to Italy, where the sun bathed everything in its warm rays and he could lose himself in Catalina’s willing flesh. The sooner Violet accepted that, the better it would be for both of them.
They’d consummate the marriage and make a reasonable attempt at getting an heir, but he’d perform his duty to his title with his usual cool detachment. Surely he could bed his wife without falling into paroxysms of love for her?
He was a Selfish Rake, after all. He’d had plenty of practice.
With any luck the business would be concluded quickly—
“Good morning, Lord Dare. I see you’re anxious to be off this morning.”
Nick had collapsed into a slouch against the seat, but now he jerked up and glanced through the window to find his aunt peering at him, her lips tight with displeasure. Violet was beside her, but she lingered a few steps behind Lady Westcott, and she didn’t meet his eyes.
Damn it. What were his chances of getting an heir on her if she couldn’t even bring herself to look at him?
“I await your pleasure, Aunt.” He did his best to sound courteous, but his frustration was evident in his curt tone. He did manage to drag himself from the carriage and offer a half-hearted bow, but his aunt didn’t look at all impressed with this effort. No doubt his crumpled cravat and disheveled hair dampened the effect.
Lady Westcott arched an eyebrow at him. “It would please me, Lord Dare, if you had appeared the morning after your wedding day looking like a gentleman rather than some bleary-eyed sailor reeking of whiskey, but I see that’s rather too much to ask.”
“Far too much, Aunt, so I advise you to lower your standards and make your peace with it.”
Her face reddened with irritation at this rude reply, but his aunt had always been attuned to his moods, and she knew better than to argue with him when he was so close to the edge of fury, as he was now. “Very well, then. Once the servants deliver the baggage, we’re off. That is, if you’re ready for the journey to West Sussex, Lady Dare?”
Lady Westcott gestured toward the carriage, but Violet hesitated. “Have you dined?”
She still hadn’t met his eyes, and it took Nick a moment before he realized she was addressing him.
His lip curled. “Such touching concern for my welfare, Lady Dare. But I’m not hungry, and I’d just as soon get the journey over with.”
She flinched at this cool reply, and Nick blew out a hard breath. It would only make things more difficult if he was rude to her, and yet as soon as he laid eyes on her this morning, frustration and anger began to thrash like a wild thing inside him.
Why must she look so lovely, and why couldn’t he tear his gaze away from her lips? They were pinker than usual, a touch swollen, and when he looked at them, every breathless sigh she’d uttered last night, every soft moan, echoed in his head.
