Page 5 of Pursuing a Duke
“Easy there, my love,” he murmured. “I’m almost at my limit.”
Moving them to the corner of the room behind the slightly ajar door, Aiden leaned her against the wall. With his intense eyes on her, she couldn’t look away as he lifted the front of her skirts, his hand finding the opening in her pantaloons, and he touched her. A gasp escaped her lips, and he covered her mouth with his, silencing her. His fingers opened her folds and touched her most sensitive spot. She would have collapsed to the floor if Aiden had not tightened his grip on her with his free hand.
“Easy, my love. Just close your eyes and let your body relax. Enjoy my touch.”
And so she did, and moments later, she clutched his shoulders; her body trembled and exploded, sending her into some euphoria she didn’t know existed. When her body calmed, and Aiden righted her skirts, he grinned at her and said, “I love you.”
“I love you.” And at that moment, she loved him with all her heart and would forever.
*
It was Aiden’sand Emmeline’s wedding day. Andrew’s insides were tied up in knots because he didn’t know if he could make it through the ceremony and wedding breakfast afterward. He’d already emptied the contents of his stomach into the chamber pot. It was better to be sick now than during the ceremony.
He owed it to one of his closest friends to attend. If he didn’t, gossip would spread, and he couldn’t allow that to happen. Hewanted their marriage to be perfect and not tainted with the whispers of another man. Even if it had been true once, it would never be true again. He had come to terms with the fact that he’d lost Emmeline four weeks ago when the first banns were posted.Liar.
His valet, Clayton, cleared his throat. “My lord, you must leave now. Mr. Weston and Mr. Caldwell are waiting in the carriage.”
“Yes.” Functioning in a fog, Andrew exited his parents’ townhouse and climbed inside Weston’s carriage, facing backward beside Caldwell. He hoped neither of them would ask how he was.
But, of course, no such luck.
“Are you going to make it through the ceremony?” Weston asked, concern etched on his face.
Taking a deep breath and noticing, yes, his heart still hurt like a bloody bugger, he replied, “Shit, I hope so.”
Weston added, “For what it’s worth, you did the right thing. Aiden loves her.”
What about me? I love her.“I know.” When he woke up every morning alone from this day forth, he would tell himself that he had done the right thing for the rest of his life because his love for her would never die. He would have vowed never to marry if he hadn’t had to do his duty to the dukedom someday and produce an heir. But with twin older sisters and then him, and no younger brothers to inherit, he had to do his duty and marry... eventually. He already pitied the woman he took for a wife. She deserved so much better than him—a man with a jaded, broken heart.
“We are here,” Caldwell said as the coach stopped. The driver opened the door and flipped down the stairs.
Andrew exited the coach and stared up at St. George’s, Hanover Square, knowing right then and there that he wouldnever step foot in that church again as long as he lived. He would join St. James’s Church the first chance he had.
If his heart hadn’t shriveled and died weeks ago, he would have thought it was a beautiful ceremony. The bride took his breath away. The groom looked happier than Andrew had ever seen him. Meanwhile, his throat burned from unshed tears he fought to keep from escaping. He would not cause anything to ruin this perfect day for the bride and groom, even if he wanted to bellow out the words for all to hear, “Emmeline is mine. I love her. She belongs with me.” Instead, he pretended to be calm and happy for the loving couple.
Once the church ceremony ended, they proceeded to the Connolly residence for the wedding breakfast. Andrew found his place card at the opposite end of the table from the new Mr. and Mrs. Aiden Fitzpatrick. Thank Christ, he thought, as he toyed with the food on his plate as the courses came and went. He knew he would cast up his accounts right there in front of everyone if he ate anything. He didn’t care about embarrassing himself, but he wouldn’t do that to Aiden and Emmeline. Even if his jealousy was making him crazy, there was enough of the gentleman in him to keep from causing a scene. At least he kept telling himself that. He loved them both too much to spoil their happiness even as he sank to the lowest depths of despair imaginable. Never to be whole ever again as long as he lived.
The only thing that soothed him was the unending wine poured by the footmen. He was drunk when the happy couple left. Thank bloody hell the torturous wedding breakfast was over, and he could go home and break out the whisky and get foxed, really foxed. Because, as much as he tried not to picture Aiden making love to Emmeline and taking her innocence, he couldn’t. It was all he could see in his mind. He needed to drink himself to oblivion. It would be the only thing saving him from his tormented visions.
Back inside Weston’s carriage, Andrew collapsed against the squabs, sloshing wine onto his clothes as he’d taken his glass with him, and said, “To Mr. and Mrs. Fitzpatrick. May Aiden fuck her well and good.”
He overlooked his friends’ winces as he dropped his glass and succumbed to his drunken stupor, his life never to be the same.
