Protection

Chapter Nine

Sometimes he wished he had better control of the things he said.

It had been two days since Alayna had been out of her chamber- no matter how much he attempted at apologizing. Alex felt guilty for saying what he said to her- seeing that anguish on her face. That face played back in his mind- that wounded grimace, mingling with anger, and betrayal.

   I'm exactly like my father.

And that was part of the reason Alex resented his father so much. They were terribly alike, to a point that it scared him. James Pembroke might have been good to Alayna. But he had been perpetually disapproving of his son. There was always an improvement to be made. When he made something, it could have been made better.

    As a child, there had been many times when he contemplated running away. But now, he thought with a chuckle, how absurd that would have been.

    There had to be some way he could make her see he wasn't as bad as he had shown her he could be. Of course he could be entirely unfeeling. His father had been that way to him, and his mother had been too wrapped up in the luxury of attention to pay much attention to him.

    But he could not bear Alayna's anger and hurt. He had tried to apologize. He had ordered a new gown and given it to her the morning before, but when he went to supper that evening, he saw the package sat untouched at the door. He had tried merely knocking at her door. She would not answer. She knew it was him every time.

    He sat in his study, feet up on the desk. His boots had been abandoned underneath of the chair, his overcoat becoming dreadfully rumpled in the very chair she had poured her heart out to him in. There had to be something. He knew there had to be something he could do for her.

    Alex flattened his lips, thinking. A new pair of silk gloves? Well, she probably had a dozen pairs of those. Silk- he almost laughed at the thought. All the ladies- he meant the women- he knew liked to wear silk underthings. But she would object at his purchasing her delicates. A new ball gown? Perhaps. But he was sure she had two dozen others.

    Slipping his boots on, he stood. He would find something. Anything to make her feel better. Normally, he never cared much when someone was angry with him. He had no idea why he cared that she was upset with him. It stirred something in his chest- guilt. Because he had known what she went through. He couldn't imagine the fear or the memories. And he couldn't imagine loving anyone the way she had described loving her Adrien.

  He snatched up his overcoat, and pulled it on. He would find her something.

Alayna wiped away her tears, and covered her head with the pillow.

The more she thought about it, the more it hurt. She didn't ever wish to see him or speak to him again. She hated him. Or, she wanted to.

He had tried to fix things. But then, he would think he could say whatever he wanted to her. And that was something she would not tolerate. She was a lady, and she ought to be repsected as such.

   Had he confessed to her anything of that nature, she would have comforted him- not poured lemon juice in his wound. That was exactly what he had done and she could never forgive him for it. He didn't know about the things she had done. The things she hadn't done. And the things that she probably should have done.

   As much as she hated to admit it, he was correct about one thing he said to her- wishing she could change the past. She did wish she could change the past. Even though she knew she couldn't change it. But remembering Adrien...she wanted things to be different. She wanted him back. She wished they would have been married. Because perhaps then she might have had a child, rather than just the memory of  him.