Rescued by a Duke (20 page)

Garrett bowed his head. "I am so sorry, darling."

She leveled her stare right at him. "Sorry for not telling me about my brother and yours? Or sorry you got caught in your lie?"

He shrugged. "It was wrong of me not to tell you."

"Yes. It was." Hurt surrounded her mind and body. Samuel used to say that very thing.

"But I had my reasons."

He used to say that, too. "And what would those
reasons
be? That you didn't want your precious name and status sullied by your brother's disregard for another man's life?"

"No."

"Then what, Garrett? What could have kept you from telling me that your brother killed mine? I had years of listening to Samuel tell me he'd change. That he'd stop wasting our hard-earned money. Stop spending time with women of low standards instead of taking care of me. And now I find that you lied to me, too."

"I did it for you."

She blinked. "Pardon me? You did it for me?"

He nodded.

"You must think me daft."

He darted his glance toward her. "Never."

Tears spilled over her eyelids, trailing down her cheeks. "How then do you explain what you did?"

He glanced away and took a deep breath. "I wanted your wedding day, our wedding day, to be special. I didn't wish anything other than joy for you when we were united. As husband and wife."

"Well, we both know how that worked out." How could the man believe not telling her would make her happy? Did he not know she longed for justice for her brother? That she craved trust from those closest to her more than anything else?

"But it was never my intent. I wanted—"

She sniffed back a sob. "You wanted to hide something from me. Something I had a right to know."

He shook his head. Slowly. Back and forth. Back and forth. Until she thought she'd go mad.

"Yes, Garrett. You chose not to tell me, but how I found out was so much worse. And in front of all those people, on what should have been a blessed and joyful event."

"But I never thought—"

"No, you didn't think. And then you still kept secrets from me even after the wedding. But I found out anyway, didn't I?" More tears spilled down her cheeks, and suddenly she could no longer bear the conversation. She turned away. "I… I'd like to be alone."

"But—"

"Please."

Nothing happened at first. Just silence. Was he still staring at her? It took all of her willpower not to glance in his direction to find out. His answer came not with words, but instead by his actions. Movement on the bed and footsteps assured her he'd stood and walked away. Sasha didn't glance toward the door until it clicked softly shut.

Tears, unbidden, raced down her cheeks. Why did loving someone have to hurt so? Her heart ripped in two, half riddled with hurt, the other half wanting Garrett to hold her tightly. Would she ever be able to look at him and not think of her brother? His brother? And the fact that Garrett had known and hadn't told her? To not be able to trust the one she loved was like standing on the edge of that horrible well. Stepping forward with nothing to catch her from falling into a dark abyss.

She closed her eyes. Visions of their wedding engulfed her. Garrett waiting for her at the end of the aisle. Walking toward him. His tenderness as he kissed her. Her joy at being his wife, being with someone who would always love her, be honest with her.

Sasha wished someone would tell her heart what to believe. She didn't think she could trust Garrett. Neither could she bear to be apart from him.

Chapter Fifteen

As a duke and her husband, Garrett could have overridden Sasha's words and remained in her bedroom. It was his right. But the guilt that had infiltrated his heart kept him from claiming that right. He had been in the wrong for not telling her the truth right when he'd found out about Samuel.

Hadn't the guilt gnawing at him been an indication that he should have told her the truth? And she had every reason for not wanting to be with him. But that didn't help, and his heart was being ripped into pieces. What would he do if she never trusted him again? Would he have to, at some point, exercise his matrimonial rights and demand she treat him with respect and deference? He shook his head. that wasn't what he wanted. None of this was. If only he'd told her… if only… He shrugged. But what good did it do him now? He'd already apologized to her, only to have her reject it.

He had to do something. Had to find a way to make her understand how sorry he was. That he did value her, trust her. That he hadn't meant to harm her or be deceitful. But was it true? Hadn't he knowingly decided to keep the news from her until after the wedding? If their roles were reversed, wouldn't Garrett be hurt and betrayed as well?

He hurried down the stairs to his study. There were some plans he needed to make. There had to be a way to convey how sorry he was, how deeply he loved her. If she wouldn't listen to his words, perhaps he could show her through his actions. Summoning the butler, he gave him instructions to have the curricle and horses readied for a trip into town.

He sat down at his desk, head in his hands, his fingers massaging his temples as the threat of a headache loomed nearby. How had his marriage come to this? How had his life disintegrated in such a short period of time? If only Lucien hadn't… thoughts of what Lucien must now be facing tore at Garrett's mind and heart. He didn't even want to contemplate the sentencing… the trial… and… death?

Tears stained Garrett's cheeks. Even though he and his brother had never been close, had never gotten along, the fact remained, Lucien was still his brother. But why, oh why, did he have to be the one in the inn that night? Why couldn't he have left Samuel and that girl alone? But if that had been the case, Sasha might not have been walking alone in his pasture, or have fallen in the well. He might never have met her. But the fact remained that he
had
met her. And he
did
love her. Now was the time to do something about the muck he was in.

He wiped the wetness from his face with a handkerchief and stood. Grabbing his coat and hat, he headed out for the front door. He stepped outside. Wind caught at his hat, threatening to whip it from his head. Large puddles remained from the earlier rain.

Ashe and Cloud had been readied for him and were brought around to the front. He climbed into the curricle and clicked his tongue, his signal for the horses to walk on. The horses whinnied and picked up their pace. Did they sense Garrett's agitation? His heartbreak? Likely, as it engulfed Garrett, passing from him in waves. If sadness had a palpable form, Garrett embodied it.

This time the clip-clop of horses' hooves did nothing to quell the depressive mood in which he found himself. Nothing, it seemed, could. Unless and until Sasha forgave him, Garrett would be broken. What would she think of his venture today? Would his gestures get past her anger? Her refusal to forgive him?
Please let it be so
.
Let me break through the wall she has built to keep me out of her heart.

He made several stops in town, loading down the rumble seat of the curricle and crowding his groomsman's perch more and more with each subsequent shop he visited. The smiles of the shopkeepers told him he'd made them quite happy with his purchases. Surely, in among all of the items he'd bought, there would be something that would cheer his new wife. Something that would soften her heart toward him.

As he made his way back home, Garrett's mood lightened. He chuckled at the thought of the many, many items packed behind him in the carriage. If nothing else, perhaps Sasha would find humor in the ridiculous amount of gifts he was bringing home for her.

Once in front of the house, he called out for the butler. The door opened promptly. The butler's eyes widened at the sight of the loaded carriage, the packages stacked so high they threatened to tumble to the ground. But he said not a word. He called for two footmen, and they hurried to the curricle and began lifting items from the back.

Garrett laughed as he watched the footmen weave back and forth, not being able to see well around the boxes and bags they wielded. Garrett did the same, as he, too, grabbed as many things as he could and headed up the front steps, carefully finding each step with the toe of his boot.

Once inside the foyer, he instructed the butler to have the items carried upstairs.

The butler raised an eyebrow, and then lowered it in deference to Garrett. "Yes, your grace. All of them?"

"Yes. All of them."

"And to which room?"

"To the duchess' bedroom. Knock first and Maryann will meet you at the door. Tell her I instructed you to carry all of the packages into the room."

"Yes, your grace."

Was it Garrett's imagination, or did the butler appear concerned? Did the man know something that Garrett was not privy to? Sometime servants heard things not meant for their ears.

Garrett set his burden on the floor and went back outside to retrieve more boxes. Normally, he wouldn't do it himself, but would have one of the footmen help the butler. He needed to be productive, though, making some sort of progress. Besides, he wanted to be at his wife's bedroom door when the last of the items was carried in. He didn't want to miss her expression. Surely it would be one of delight. Would her eyes light up with glee? Her smile widen as package after package was delivered?

He climbed the stairs a final time as a footman carried the last of the boxes up ahead of him. The footman rounded the corner and shuffled under his burden toward the open doorway. Maryann stood just outside the door, her eyebrows raised as she watched the footman slide past her into the room.

Garrett picked up his pace, eager for Sasha's smile. Perhaps she would even laugh and invite him to sit on the bed with her as she opened her gifts. He entered the room and stopped. Sasha sat in the edge of the bed, surrounded by boxes and bags on the floor. She was not smiling. And not a single package had been opened.

****

The hurt encompassing her heart was almost physically painful. And a headache loomed just beyond the edges of her temples. The slight pressure would be a full-blown illness if she couldn't control her irritation. What had Garrett done? Why was he having the butler and footmen drag all of these things into her room?

Her husband appeared in the doorway as the butler placed another box on the floor. There were so many, it would be nearly impossible for the servant to find his way out again. The poor man wove and angled this way and that, nearly toppling over more than once before finally leaving.

Garrett grinned at the butler and stepped into the room. His eyes met hers and he lost his smile. Surely, then, her depressed mood showed on her face. She needed time alone, and now several people and a multitude of
things
filled her room. What in the world was she expected to do with them all?

Maryann, who still stood in the open doorway, quietly stepped into the hall and closed the door. Sasha didn't want to be alone with her husband, but from his actions, it was obvious she hadn't gotten her point across to him earlier to leave her
alone
for a while
.

Garrett's Adam's apple moved up and down as he swallowed. He blinked several times. Was he nervous? She crossed her arms over her middle and waited, never taking her eyes from his face. Sasha had once thought the moon and stars rested on the man, loving him beyond all reason. But the feeling of betrayal surrounding her heart now kept that from her. All she could envision in her mind's eye was Samuel. When Garrett chose not to tell Sasha the truth about his murder, he'd forever linked himself to her painful past. Couldn't he understand the hurt?

But you love him
. Her traitorous heart wouldn't let her forget. Yes, she loved him. But
trusting
him was something she could not at this moment do.

He stepped over a few of the boxes and paused, now a few feet closer to the bed. "Darling, I… brought you these things… Some dresses, shoes, parasols, and fans. I thought maybe… you'd enjoy them." His arms hung limply at his sides, as if he didn't know what to do with them.

She leaned forward on the bed. "Why would you think I would want all of these
things
, Garrett?"

He shrugged. "I'm trying to… that is, I'd like to—" His face edged into a warm shade of pink.

"Buy my trust?"

He widened his eyes. "No, of course not!"

"Garrett, have you forgotten already what you've done? Of course, it wasn't your fault that your brother…" Her throat threatened to close as tears pressed against her eyelids. "But I've told you how hurt I was for years of being lied to."

"I was going to tell you, the day that you—"

"The day I found out by accident? After you'd known the truth for weeks? If I can't trust you to tell me something like this, how can I ever trust you with
anything
that actually matters? Trust is
everything
to me."