Page 42 of The Notorious Lord Sin
"But you did. You did not even bother to ask me. That thought was not even in your mind. Admit it. When you left for France, all you cared about was rutting your way across the continent and forgetting about the girl you ruined at home. Do not try to blame me. Tell me what you would have done differently. Had you any honor, you would have acted like a gentleman, not some blasted, sinful rogue who pretended I did not exist."
"I never pretended you did not exist." He stood, striding to the door and wrenching it open. "I'm leaving, but this is far from over, Paris. There is much more to talk about, and when we are both less heated over all of this, we will speak. I shall see you back in London within the week," he demanded of her, slamming the door and regretting his bout of anger the instant he did it.
He strode past the butler and out the front door and, giving the children a small wave, jumped up on his horse and left. His life with Paris was far from over, and if she thought another year of his child's life would go by without him in it, she had another reality headed her way.
ChapterTwenty-Five
Aweek later, Paris found herself back in London, children in tow as she had promised them at the beginning of the Season. They had plans to go to Richmond and to go on a carriage ride about Hyde Park, but in truth, Paris had brought them to London merely because she wanted them with her.
Now that Dominic knew the truth of their past, there was little reason she ought to hide Maya from him. To do so would only cause talk, and she did not want anyone to think she was trying to hide her children from society. Even though having children in town was not the thing to do, she did not want anything to mar Maya's name.
She sat on the back terrace of her London town house and watched the children play hide and seek on the grass and gardens, their little squeals of delight and giggles pushing away the melancholy that had settled over her the past seven days.
Both she and Dominic had been wrong and had made missteps. Mistakes they both needed to own, accept, and move on from. There was nothing that could change the past. They had made errors, foolish, possibly wrong choices, but they were done now. Now she had to decide if she wished to hold on to the anger and hurt or let it dissipate into the past.
"You're back," Millie stated, coming through the terrace doors and slumping beside her on the chair. She waved to the children who smiled at the duchess before returning to their game.
"I am," Paris said, unsure she wanted to talk to anyone about what had happened, preferring to muddle and debate the whole situation again and again in her mind. Driving herself to distraction.
"Has Lord Astoridge called?" Millie asked her, leaning forward and pouring herself a glass of lemonade.
"No," Paris said, the thought of Dominic making her stomach churn. She swallowed, reaching forward for her own drink, wishing she would stop feeling so nauseated and nervous all the time.
Eventually, she could move forward again with her life, forgetting her dalliance with Dominic and everything they had said to each other.
Is that what you wish to do?
Paris could not answer her own question. He would not force her to allow him to be in Maya's life. He would not ruin his daughter in such a way. But did he not deserve to know her? Even if their daughter could never know the whole truth about his interest?
Paris glanced at Millie and noted her raised, curious brow. "Why do you ask?" she said.
"Well, he's been quite the curmudgeon, I must say, and glares at everyone when he thinks no one is watching. Which of course, I'm always watching because I know he's in love with you, and you are not in town. But now that you're back, I wondered if he had called."
Paris sighed, shaking her head. "No, he has not called, but he knows of Maya. And, in return, I know something of his situation that is equally shocking and ruinous, so I suppose we're even on that score."
Millie threw her a consoling look before her attention diverted to the children. "So you've both made mistakes, but it is clear that you care for each other. Even if, right at this moment, you're angry with him as he is with you, can you not forgive each other? As much as I dislike what he did to you, you love him. I know you will not be happy if he is not in your life, Paris," her friend said, reaching out and squeezing her hand.
Paris swallowed the lump in her throat, having a terrible suspicion that Millie was right. That she would not be happy unless she were with Dominic. They had made a mess of everything, but damn him to hell, she still loved him. Missed his stupid, roguish visage.
"I do not know what I should do or what I can say to repair things between us. There have been so many lies from us both. Each of us hiding things from the other, and I do not know how we can come back from that."
"You need to talk, that is all. I'm certain that if you go and see Lord Astoridge, he will see you and feel as despondent as you are."
Was Millie right? Would he see her if she called on him? There had been no word of him since he left her country estate a week earlier.
"I will watch the children and ensure the nanny takes them up for dinner if you're not home before then. Go, Paris. Talk to Dominic. If I'm any judge of character, he loves you, he may be hurt and as upset, but that is only because he cares as much as you do. Do not go another day without the man you love. I know you will never be content if you do."
Paris swiped at the wayward tears that slipped down her cheeks before reaching for her friend and hugging her quickly. "Thank you, Millie. For everything," she said before standing and slipping through the terrace doors. She needed to see Dominic and determine if there was a future for them. See if they could get past all the errors they had made.
She hoped they could.
Dominic lay on his bed with the curtains drawn. Today had been exceptionally warm, but a cooling breeze was billowing through the curtains in his room.
He leaned his head on his arm, staring up at the canopy of his bed, and thought of Paris. Always Paris. This past week he had done little else but rehash their argument, all that they had said to each other, everything they had hidden.
He had acted the bastard yet again. He had no right to be upset regarding Maya. Paris had little option and did what she had to do to survive. In truth, he was proud of her for saving his daughter's reputation from certain ruination, as well as her own.
"I do not care if he's resting, Malcolm. I'm going into his room. Now stand aside."
