Chapter 82
Kyle's grin vanished as though snatched away by death itself. His face turned a ghastly white, and the divorce document trembled pitifully in his hands.
"Wherever you choose to reside, I shall see to it that you are provided an estate. You will have enough coin to live comfortably for the remainder of your days. I ask only this, divorce me."
"No no," he whispered, then louder, panicked, "no no, y-you said you wasn't gonna leave me. You said it lots o' times. Y-you promised, my love. Don't do this, please, don't."
"Kyle, there is someone else in my heart. I-"
"Is it Her Grace?"
"Yes," I answered plainly. I would not dance around truth.
"So that's why you don't… why you don't let me touch you? 'Cause she's better than me? I told you I'd try harder, I said I'd make it last, I just needed a chance. She is a woman. Being with another woman is wrong… I am a man… I can make ya feel better."
He sprang up from the chair and moved toward me. My spine straightened, braced to recoil, but instead of touching me, he fell to his knees beside my chair. His palms rubbed over his trousers in a nervous frenzy, his voice cracking under the weight of desperation.
"I can do it, love. I can. What if I show you now, eh? I swear I'll make you feel good, just give me a chance, please."
My mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again. Not a sound emerged. I ought to be used to Kyle's manner of thinking by now. And yet there were moments like this when I was struck mute by the sheer absurdity of it.
The silence was shattered by a knock upon the door.
"Enter," I called.
Butler Fin entered with a composed bow. "Your Ladyship, Her Grace has arrived. She has been received in the drawing room."
My heart skipped a maddening beat, joy bursting through my chest like sunlight cracking through a stormed sky.
Yes, I confess it. My sense of timing is nothing short of appalling. To present Kyle with the divorce paper on the very day I invited Millicent into my home? That, precisely, is why I never attempt schemes again. If I ever dared to plot revenge against that vulture Annette, I suspect the consequences would return to me with a vengeance one hundredfold.
I abandoned my study and stormed into the corridor like a woman possessed.
"Slow down, my lady, you shall topple over and break your other leg!" Laura's voice rang out behind me.
But I did not slow. My heart raced wildly from that singular yearning for her. I reached the drawing room swiftly. I did not knock. No, to hell with decorum, I burst into the room with the same reckless energy Kyle had so recently displayed in mine.
My eye locked onto crimson ones. She rose in an instant. We met halfway across the drawing room, colliding with a grace only known to those who have longed in silence. Our arms wrapped around one another as if the world would vanish should we let go. I pressed my face into her shoulder, breathing her in. My cane slipped from my fingers, falling to the floor.
"I miss you," I murmured into the hollow of her neck.
"And I, miss you too," she replied, gentle as moonlight, and for a moment I felt the world slow. Her voice, her voice could undo me with a single syllable. I loved it with a madness I could scarcely conceal.
But then her arms retreated from me. I followed her eyes.
Kyle stood at the doorway, drenched in sweat, lips trembling.
"That's my wife," he croaked.
Millicent stepped back from me, lowering her eyes.
No.
I limped toward her. I reached for her hand and clasped it in mine possessively. Her eyes flicked to our entwined fingers. In that fleeting second, her lips curved ever so slightly. A smile.
Heaven, she was gorgeous. If the deities themselves sculpted her, they had done so with cruelty in their hearts, for a face like that ought to come with a warning. If beauty were lethal, I would have long since been buried.
But I was not dead. Not yet. And so, I turned to Kyle. "We care for one another. Kyle, I am asking you once again. Let me go."
"No. No, no, you, you're my wife," he said, stepping closer, desperation bleeding through every word. "Please don't leave me."
Laura stood quietly at the threshold.
"I can give you everythin', love," Kyle pressed as he advanced. "I'll fix it. I swear I will. Just don't do this."
He was closer now.
Too close.
I stepped between him and Millicent. If he meant to lash out, let it strike me first. I would not have her bruised by any hand but mine.
"…Kyle. Remaining at my side shall only bring you suffering. Should we persist, we shall carve only greater misery between us both. Release me from this bond. I comprehend your affections but-"
"Please do not leave me," Kyle whimpered, falling gracelessly to his knees before me. So much for my careful attempt at explanation. Kyle heard only what he wished.
He turned to Millicent. With those same pleading eyes, he looked upon her as though she were some saint to be bargained with.
"Ann's got scars," he said, "and burns too, all over. She ain't perfect. You wouldn't want someone like that, would ya? But I still love her, I do. So… please. Just leave us be."
I stood stunned, struck silent. Then Millicent stepped forward and drew me behind her.
"How dare you," she said, the syllables cutting clean and cold. "To profess love, yet speak with such cruelty. Do you comprehend the contradiction of your own ignorance? How base it is to wound the very woman you claim to cherish."
Her voice left no room for argument. There was steel in it, the voice of a duchess who ruled not only through title but through terrifying precision. "You shall offer Florence a proper apology. And you shall do so without delay."
That was no request. That was a command from the Duchess. And by the stars, it was one of the most arousing thing I witnessed. I might have fallen in love all over again.
"Her name is Ann Woodstone."
I heard a dull thud against floor. Kyle had collapsed to the floor.
I stepped from behind Millicent. Those crimson eyes had darkened. I felt a shiver crawl along my spine. From the corner of my eye, I caught Laura rubbing her arms. She too had felt it, that slow, suffocating dread that only Millicent's gaze could conjure. Truly, those eyes of hers could unmake a person.
"S-sorry," Kyle stammered, barely able to utter the word as he kept his eyes fixed upon her.
Millicent's gaze intensified further, impossibly so, until the room itself seemed to bend beneath the pressure of it. If someone told me she was the devil's own sovereign, I would not question it.
"To Florence. Not to me."
I swiftly tightened my grasp on our joined hands, a subtle tug drawing Millicent's gaze back to me. The moment her eyes met mine, that terrifying infernal glare vanished, as though it had never existed.
"We have much to discuss," I said. "Will you stay the night?"
A soft smile curved her lips.
"I should like to stay forever, if you would allow it."
"You can't stay!" Kyle burst out. "This is my house! Mine and my wife's!"
That was quite enough.
"Kyle, please sign the divorce paper. We are finished. You no longer belong here."
I did not wait for his reply. I bent down to retrieve my cane and led Millicent through the doorway, past Laura.
"Give him the paper."
"At once, Your Ladyship."
And then we were off.
I guided Millicent through the corridors. The moment the door to my chambers came into view, I gripped her hand even harder, irrational possessiveness bubbling beneath my skin.
She was mine.
Mine.
And we had much to speak of.
This matter of her supposed engagement to a prince, I would get to the bottom of it before the night was through.