“It is not a pleasant thought is it, Calydon?” Lucan taunted, a deeper coldness encasing his heart. “What kind of thoughts filled when you thought I fucked your sister and abandoned her to the cruel fates of society? Did you not hear the whispers that taunted my sister? ‘Marissa the Used,’ ‘Marissa the Abandoned’.”
Speaking of Constance in such a crude manner left a vile taste in Lucan’s mouth, but something raw in him demanded that some of the hatred, some of the pain he had lived with for years be felt by Calydon.
Calydon stilled rage lighting his eyes, then doubt.
“Is Connie untouched?” he demanded.
Lucan’s slow smile was deliberately sensual, remembering how he had touched Constance and letting the knowledge seeped into his eyes.
He was impressed with how intimidating Calydon suddenly appeared. If Lucan was a lesser man he would have been quaking in his boots. In fact, he was doing everything in his power to resist smashing his fist in the man’s face. Lucan could see the dark need in Calydon to offer him violence as well. Probably Lucan had underestimated the effect of the duchess’ presence. Without her, Calydon had no need to still the roiling rage inside of himself.
Calydon dropped his hand, and Lucan saw the fist coming. He could have dodged it. Hell, he could possibly have had Calydon on the ground before the man realized what was happening. But Lucan deserved it. Constance was all that was pure and lovely, and should never play any part in his vengeance again.
Lucan’s head snapped back from the force of the punch, it rocked him back on his heels. He raised his hand and wiped the thin trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth. “I deserved that, for Constance does not merit my vulgarity or insinuations. But I assure you it will be the only free hit you get, Calydon.”
Calydon’s eyes narrowed. “If you had thought to ask for her hand, it is denied. The only reason I am not ripping into you is because I know how tirelessly you have been working for society to welcome her back into their folds. That is the only reason, Mondvale.”
A hollow sensation formed in the pit of Lucan’s stomach and he dismissed it. “Your threat is irrelevant. Lady Constance will not have me.” At least not yet, but he would do everything in his power to have her fall back in love with him. Lucan was resolved, for he could accept no other outcome. Living without her smiles and kisses have been too bleak.
Calydon’s eyes remained hard and unforgiving. Lucan fully understood.
“You proposed to her?” Calydon demanded.
Lucan thrust his hands in his pockets. “I did,” he answered. “Constance rejected me.”
“Connie has not mentioned this,” Calydon said, surprise evident in his tone.
Lucan raised a brow. “It is not for me to speculate why Lady Constance felt she could not confide in her own brother.”
Calydon stiffened, but Lucan ignored him.
“I doubt you and I will ever be friends,” Lucan said. “But I have considered how young you and Marissa both were. My intention today was not to force any confrontation.” His mouth twisted in a wry grimace. “I had only intended to lay what haunts me to rest so I can relinquish all need in my heart for vengeance.”
Calydon face was devoid of all expression, but Lucan knew he listened keenly.
“I confess I hurt Constance in the cruelest of fashion. I did start out to ruin her, but I couldn’t. She is enchanting, kind, everything I could ever want in a lady. In my lady. If you want satisfaction for the hurt I have caused her, you will have it.”
He noted the surprise that flashed in Calydon’s gaze before he masked it.
“I’ve destroyed Constance’s love for me, and I don’t know if I can ever get it back. I saw her at Lady Ellington’s Ball, and although she is now welcomed in society, I could still see that she is shattered. I am tormented day and night, and I need to know that she is happy, for I love her. I am also declaring my intention to eventually court her, for whether you want to hear it or not, I love your sister, more than I thought possible to love another.” Lucan admitted frankly.
“Deluded, but not so jaded and hard hearted,” Calydon murmured a smile curving his lips.
Lucan looked at the man blankly. What the hell was he blathering about?
“I wager it will take a while for us to be civil to each other,” Calydon offered. “I can imagine the hatred you must feel, and I even accept it. For I wanted to crush you when I saw Connie’s pain, and she had not suffered as Marissa. So I understand some of your pain if not fully. And I hope you can eventually forgive me for the part I played in Marissa’s hurt…and I will endeavor to forgive your role in Connie’s pain.”
Lucan nodded, the acknowledgment soothing the edge of rage that still lingered. Though he only had to think of Constance, and it all deflated. He stood in silence as he remembered the vibrant woman Marissa had been in her happy days. He pushed it from his mind for he had vowed to forgive, to understand and to learn.
“I suggest we make use of my sparring room. From all accounts you are an excellent fighter, and I think it is time we went into the ring together,” Calydon mused. “Then when we pound on each other, the excuse I can give my duchess is that we were simply sparring.”
Lucan watched as Calydon went to the mantel and poured brandy into two glasses. Lucan accepted when Calydon held one out to him.
“Constance?” Lucan asked. He had been battling the need to show his weakness for her, but then decided it did not matter. What objections would he face when he tried to court her?
“I believe you love Constance. But you will have to wait until she has returned to England to pay your address. I will not force her where her heart does not lie. Though I believe it belongs to you.”
Nothing the man said made an impact on Lucan. He was stuck on Constance not being in England. “Constance is not in the country?” he demanded.
A cool smile curved Calydon’s lips. “No. She boarded a train this morning with Anthony and Phillipa for Europe. They may then move onto Egypt.”
A crushing weight descended on Lucan’s chest. “How long?” At Calydon’s silence, Lucan went cold. “How long will she be gone for?” he repeated.
“A year.”
His stomach hollowed out. A year? A year in which she may meet someone else, be wooed and fall in love?
“Tell me where she is.”
“No.” Calydon’s voice was implacable. “She is my most cherished sister, and if she needs this, I will give it to her. I know love, and I understand the need I can see blazing from you to go to her. But in this, I will not have her thwarted.”
Lucan inclined his head, then spun and walked away. He would not plead; he could see the man was unbending. He would hire men to find her. But he realized it would mean nothing. He had waited too long, he had been foolish, and now the emptiness he felt was profound.
He had lost her.
Chapter Twenty
Lady Constance has returned to Sherring Cross. You have my blessings if she will have you.
Calydon
Lucan’s heart slammed into his throat. He read the note for the second time hardly daring to breathe, to hope. Constance had returned after only three months. He knew it may not have anything to do with him, but hope hot and sweet poured through him. Did this mean Calydon had somehow delivered Lucan’s letter to her? When he had realized he would be without her for a year, or longer, or possibly forever, he had poured everything into a letter and asked Calydon to see it delivered to wherever she traveled.
You have my blessings if she will have you.
Lucan understood full well the honor Calydon accorded him after he had tried to ruin his sister. The man was forgiving. Damn well more forgiving than Lucan himself would have been. But then, Calydon had looked Lucan directly in the eyes and vowed to destroy him if he ever hurt his Connie again. He had believed the man, though the warning had not been necessary. If she would give him a chance, he would love and treasure her with every breath in his body.
He hoped