The Contract Duchess, a Regency Romance: Key To My Heart Book 1

Chapter 27 - Derrick

In the stillness of the late evening, the sound of sobbing, muffled as it was, woke Derrick from a restless sleep. Today he had managed to stand up out of the bed for a short time, but his breathing had sped along as though he was running in the woods at top speed, and after a little while, the room began to spin about him, and he had been forced to lay back down. He was so frustrated by his own infirmity that he wanted to shout about it. Angie had ignored his requests that she visit him so that they might discuss his brother's proposal, and he was trapped in this room, so close by her room, and yet still separated from her as though by a high wall.

He hoped the sobbing would decrease with little delay, but he grew more distressed when the volume of the weeping only increased. If this was Angie, she would surely suffer a relapse of her paralysis. Why did he hear no one else? Why was she alone and crying with such deep grief?

At last he could stand it no longer. Mindful that walking would not get him very far, Derrick determined that the only thing he could do was crawl across the hall to make sure Angie was all right. His dignity would suffer should anyone stumble across him behaving like a young child who cannot yet balance on his own two feet, but he couldn't bring himself to care. His wife needed him.

An awkward series of movements found him on his hands and knees by the side of the bed nearest to the closed door. In less time than he thought possible, he had crawled across the hall and let himself into Angie's room. He had half-expected the loud crying to quiet as soon as the door opened, but a glance at the figure on the bed showed that Angie was lying on her side, and facing away from the door. He was careful to close the portal as quietly as he had opened it and moved to the side of the bed.

He grasped the throw in both hands and yanked with all of his strength. Unfortunately, his muscles were not yet up to such effort, and rather than pull himself upright, he only succeeded in pulling the throw toward him by a few inches. At least the movement caught her attention, and a gasp interrupted the sobbing. The bedclothes rustled and shifted, accompanied by a muffled groan and a few more sobs, and then she was looking at him, astonishment painted on her face.

She began to laugh.

It started slow, muffled by the gasps and hiccups of her watering pot episode, but it was certainly laughter he heard. The corners of her lips tipped up, and her eyes sparkled, above the glitter of her last few tears. She was stunning.

He could not stop the grin that split his lips if he tried. The love he felt for her overflowed, and he needed to touch her somehow. He lifted an arm up onto the edge of the mattress and felt a shock of joy when he felt her delicate fingers brush the back of his hand. He quickly flipped his hand over and grasped hers before she could pull it away. She gasped and blushed at the contact, and he found himself grateful that she could not see the bulge in his trousers.

A thick silence filled the room, but he was not going to let it keep him from his aim. "Hello," he whispered, the grin still tugging at his cheeks.

"Hello," she answered, ducking her head to avoid his gaze. She did not attempt to retrieve her hand, though.

"I have been missing you. I heard that you made yourself ill caring for me. Thank you."

She raised her head to look at him again with a smile. "I was glad to do it. I could not bear to sit by and do nothing to help you, though if you become ill in the future, I will be sure to rest more." She winked at him, and he laughed.

"Please do, though I would not mind nursing you back to health when I am recovered. I cannot let you have all of the fun." His jesting was rewarded with a giggle, a light tinkling sound that rendered him speechless for a moment. His reactions to her had never been so strong; what was happening to him?

Before he recovered his ability to speak, she said, "I apologize for avoiding you. I overheard my brother's offer, and I did not want to sway your decision with my presence. It is an important matter, needing careful thought-"

"Which is why I wanted to speak to you!" he interrupted. "You are my wife, and I will not make such a long-reaching decision about your future without knowing your mind on the matter." He smiled at her astonished expression. "When we were young, I always valued your opinion. It was often quite different than my own, and our discussions helped me see details that would otherwise have remained hidden from me. Why would I not seek your advice in a matter that directly affects us both?" He rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb, wishing he could hold her as he did in the cellar days ago.

The astonishment faded into wariness before she spoke, "I feel that you must make the best decision not only for us, but for the future. My brother spoke well. My ability to bear children is unknown, and you are in no condition to initiate the bedding ceremony, even if your solicitor was available to provide the required witness. As much as I love you, I am aware that love will not secure your title."

She dropped her eyes to their joined hands. "As much as it will pain me to see you with someone else, my brother will keep his word; I will be cared for, and the title will revert to your firstborn son. All will be well in the end."

When she lifted her eyes to his again, his heart skipped a beat at the swell of unshed tears he saw there. "I cannot tell you how much I wish there was another way, a path that allows me to keep dreaming this life where we are together, just as I hoped when we were young. I always knew this dream would end eventually, for what handsome man would want to be bound to an invalid? If my heart could have its way, we would grow old with one another, but with the will's requirements coming due tomorrow, you must find another way to keep your family estate, and there is no way to secure that future with certainty if you stay with me."

His heart stilled in his chest as two tears escaped her lowered lids and she took a shaky breath. She shifted to grasp his hand in both of hers, holding his gaze even as her voice became as quiet as a footfall on a thick rug. "I love you, Derrick, and I have for years. My advice to you is to rest and get well soon, so you can apply yourself to annulling our marriage and finding a suitable wife to produce a son, to restore your family fortune and status. Know that I wish you well, though I never wish to see you again; it would be too painful to see you and be reminded of what might have been."

Her look turned tender. "Thank you for allowing me to live my fantasy, at least for a little while. I will cherish the memories we made, always, especially our last kiss." She smiled as her cheeks turned pink.

She took a deep breath and withdrew her hands, her smooth movement foiling his attempt to hold onto her. Her expression settled into a resolutely blank slate, and her voice was clear and steady when she said, "Derrick, I release you from any responsibility or obligation to me. You are free to annul our marriage without fear of legal difficulty, and free to find and love another, with my blessing."

The finality of her words frightened him more than anything in the past few weeks. What was being held captive without knowing if you would die alone in a cold cellar when compared with the love of your life telling you that she agreed you should turn from her to keep a mark of social status?

"What if I could find a way for us to have all of it, the title and inheritance and our marriage?" he blurted out.

Her smile didn't reach her eyes. "By tomorrow night? I don't see how it is possible. Robert has been contemplating the issue for days, and the offer he made you is still the best option he can find."

"Then maybe he hasn't been looking hard enough." Derrick felt a rush of anger and with it came a surge of strength. He pressed his hands to the floor and gathered his legs beneath him to stand. Rising to his full height beside the bed, he growled, "I will not admit to defeat in this matter until I have tried everything."

Fighting the dizziness that threatened his balance, he leaned close to the bed and stroked Angie's cheek. "This is my dream, too, and I am not ready to wake up yet."

Before she could argue or repeat her words of releasing him, he pivoted on his heel and returned to the room across the hall. He arrived at the bedside just as his burst of energy ran out, and he collapsed onto the bed, his mind racing in turmoil.

It was one thing to speak the promise to find a better solution and quite another to fulfill the promise. And this was a promise he had to keep.