Page 75 of My Duke, The Stranger
Isolde let go of a soft whimper as she collapsed onto the sofa. She wanted to bemoan the situation, tell herself it would be fine, that she did not deserve this, and that Cassian would believe her. But as was the theme of her life thus far, those words felt like more lies.
She had done this. She had brought it onto herself. And she was finally paying for it. Just when everything had felt so right…and once again, I have managed to hurt the one man who does not deserve it.
In that, Isolde wasn’t even sure if she wanted Cassian’s forgiveness. She certainly did not deserve it.
Thirty
“You don’t truly believe Mr. Harwood’s claim, do you, Your Grace?” Mr. Pembroke asked Cassian later that evening.
Cassian did not answer right away.
He did as he had been doing all day, sitting in a state of contemplative silence as he considered the situation in which he had found himself. And it wasn’t just Mr. Harwood’s claim that rattled him, forcing him to question what he thought he knew and what he thought he wanted. It was nowhere near as simple as that.
Looking ahead, a thousand-yard stare at the closed office door, Cassian spoke slowly. “I… I doubt that he speaks the truth.”
Mr. Pembroke exhaled with relief. “I am glad. Her Grace is many things, but I do not believe she would ever debase herself forsomeone like Mr. Harwood. No doubt she spurned him once, and this is his way of seeking revenge.”
“Likely,” Cassian admitted. “As I know that Mr. Harwood is not possessed of such honor that he would see it as his duty to warn me either. No…” A shake of the head, and he tore his eyes off the door, looking at Mr. Pembroke, who stood across from him. “His lies are obvious.”
“Her Grace will be thrilled to hear it,” he said. “I know how worried she has been all day.”
“You care for her, Mr. Pembroke,” he said.
“I do, Your Grace,” he said with a slight smile. “I might not agree with how things came to be, but now that they are…” He held that smile on Cassian. “She is good for you, as you are good for her. No sense spoiling it over such lies and rumors.”
Cassian was not surprised to hear Mr. Pembroke’s kind words. He had seen with his own eyes how much the steward cared about Isolde, as he had seen the same from her. She was like that, able to open the hearts of those around her, instilling trust and love because that was her way.
And Cassian did love her. He knew that now. He accepted it. That love was felt every time he thought of her, and it grew every time he saw her. What was more, he believed that she was starting to fall in love with him.
Alas, that only made things more difficult.
“You are right, Mr. Pembroke,” he said with a sigh so deep it rumbled throughout the room. “But I fear that won’t be enough. I wish it were, but Mr. Harwood’s visit today made me realize something, and despite how much I want to ignore it, I know that will not be nearly so simple.”
“What are you…” Mr. Pembroke’s brow tightened with worry. “What are you saying?”
Slowly and so very surely, Cassian’s memories were coming back. Always in pieces. Always fragments that failed to tell the whole story. But each day saw more visit him, and with each new memory, a cold and hard truth was laid bare that he could not ignore.
What was more, Cassian did not want to ignore them. Wasn’t that the point? To accept the bad so that he might grow from it. To understand that past experiences, while many were awful, were what made him who he was. And to know that he was able to come out the other side a better man, so long as there were those in his life who cared for him… who made it worth it.
The bad memories were easy to look past. The good memories, while sparse, were held onto and cherished. But with these memories, Cassian came to understand more of the world that he had been born into, as he understood those who lived in it with him.
There was an irony there, he knew. Now that he was willing to care so much for the opinions of others, he could no longer ignore them. And those opinions… that was what troubled him, and that was what he struggled with most of all.
“I do not care about Isolde’s past,” Cassian said firmly, so there could be no doubt. “Where she was born… where she was raised… it matters not to me.” He looked at Mr. Pembroke, who had no sense at all that he said a word of a lie. “What I care about is who she is and how she makes me feel. That is what is important, and that is why I…” He caught that final word, not willing to voice it out loud. Not yet…
“Then what is the problem?” Mr. Pembroke pressed.
“You know what the problem is,” Cassian sighed. “And do not pretend otherwise. Mr. Harwood knows who she is, Mr. Pembroke.” His voice turned pleading. “Which means that soon enough, others will know it too. I have no doubt that by the end of the week, the entire ton will be aware of Isolde’s birth, her lies, and what she did. And what is more…” He grimaced. “They will know that I was made aware and did nothing.”
“Is that so bad?” Mr. Pembroke asked. “Does it matter what other people think?”
“It should not,” he said. “But it does. Oh, I can tell them I care not. I can show Isolde that I am by her side. But what happens next? My business contracts will surely become void. Other lords will come for me, sensing a weakness. All I have built…” Heclenched his jaw. “I do not want this to affect me, Mr. Pembroke. But…” He laughed bitterly. “Such is the man I have become.”
Mr. Pembroke said nothing, a shame, as Cassian had hoped for his advice.
“As to our future,” Cassian continued, almost speaking to himself. “If we were to have a family…” His stomach fluttered at the thought, a warmth that grew. Cassian had never wanted children, or rather, the old Cassian had not. But this new version of himself, one who was in love, was of a different breed. “Our children would become pariahs. Their heritage would be called into question. Our marriage is a house made of cards, and all it will take is one wrong card pulled to see it come tumbling down.”
There were no easy answers; that was why Cassian had spent the day in a state of unease, sorrow, and confusion.
