Pricing The Heart

Chapter 35

TW: This chapter contains scenes of mental illness and manslaughter.

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He felt her body tense, but she didn't protest his hold on her. She instead stood there, her gaze fixed on the floor, barely breathing, saying nothing.

"Eloise." He touched her chin with his free hand, urging her face to the side until her eyes rested on him. He saw in them the effects his past actions had on her; the pain he had cost, the distance he had created, the fear, the betrayal that had birthed mistrust. She gave him her heart, and he tore it to shreds. And for that, he was sorry; truly, utterly.

He held her gaze. "That evening, when I sent you away..." He shook his head. "Please..."

She closed her eyes. Letting out a shaky breath, she opened them. "Please, my lord, I do not wish to speak about the past," she whispered softly.

"It is the past that stands in our way... My past. You will not forgive me once you learn the truth. You will never look at me the same, and I shall not blame you for it. How can I? I'm unworthy of you, of your love." And he desperately wanted to be worthy of her love, to be good enough for her because she deserved the best. But his past was in his way, standing between them, reminding him of how unworthy he truly was. He feared if he revealed the truth, she would turn from him. The truth would expose him to her scrutiny, her judgement. She would despise him for it.

Perhaps it was for the best? He saw, as he stared into her eyes, how in his desperation to conceal his past, he'd hurt her. He pushed her away and broke her heart. The revelation of the truth would do the same thing, but perhaps it might free her from the pain he'd inflicted on her heart. He thought if she knew how mistaken she was to have fallen in love with him, she would recover quickly and move on. Even if he knew he would never move on; it would break him to watch her leave, but at least he would deserve it.

He let out a shaky breath. "I killed my wife," he said, holding her gaze. He saw the shock that widened her eyelids as a soft gasp drifted from her lips. She shook her head in disbelief, confusion creasing her brows. But she didn't pull away from him. She stood there, and he clung to her, fighting to keep himself afloat as the memories of that horrid evening threatened to drown him.

"When Adeline and I first married, everything was perfect. I loved her, in spite of my parents' opposition to our union. They argued I had married far below my station, but I didn't care, neither did Adeline. We fought to prove my parents wrong, to work hard enough to amass the sort of wealth that could rival the dukedom. Then Adeline fell ill..." He sucked in a breath. "The physician confirmed she was with child."

"Adam?"

He nodded. "I lost her with that pregnancy. Slowly, she began to slip away; wanting to be alone, undesirous of company, even mine. I thought nothing of it, only that she had become fragile from carrying a child. The pregnancy progressed and with it, Adeline's strange behavior. The servants walked in on her many times, mumbling to herself. I saw it too, once."

The memory returned to him with clarity; Adeline, seated alone in the nursery, the sunlight illuminating her white nightdress as she rocked back and forth on a rocking chair, conversing with an invisible being.

"Again, I ignored it. I wanted—needed—to see nothing wrong with my Adeline. Then Adam was born and her condition worsened." That was when his entire world truly crashed. "The news of my wife's unusual condition began to slip through the cracks in the walls of my home. The servants began whispering. Society was unforgiving when Adeline confirmed the rumors by making a public spectacle of herself in a ball hosted by a powerful duke. My parents were proved right in their admonition, and soon, they prevailed on me, forcing me to admit her into a mental asylum."