Her words did little to soothe his guilty conscience and her detached tone only made him feel worse. He had certainly not intended to belittle her. It hadn’t been a decision he’d made as a duke, but one of a man who had been hurt. “Ella, this changes nothing.”
“Of course it doesn’t.” Her voice cracked and then she disappeared into her room.
“Bloody bullocks,” he muttered but then realized he was not done with this conversation. He followed her to her door. “Ella,” he called and she didn’t answer.
He knocked again, rather loudly. “Ella,” he said again increasing the pounding.
She still didn’t open the door and his hand slapped it again, then he leaned against it. “This right here proves that you are not just an employee. Because no person in my employ has ever locked me out of my own property and refused to answer.” Now his sister had done so on several occasions. Which only served to prove that their relationship was far different from that of an employee. Ella was someone he cared for. In a different way from Camille, she felt like family. Like home.
She wrenched the door open then and he could clearly see that she’d been crying, tears streaked down her face still. Her voice was hoarse as she answered. “Of course, Your Grace. How could I forget that it is not my place to lock you out?”
“Enough.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward him. Reaching for his handkerchief, he dried her tears with one hand as he held her close with the other. “Luke and Ryker are two of a handful of people that I call friend. I got in a bit of a row with Luke, which just goes to prove how much I like him. No one else speaks to me that way. It’s the nature of the title.”
Finishing with her tears, he tucked the cloth back into his pocket and wrapped the other arm about her. “You told me earlier that we could be friends. If you are my friend, then you will tell me how you really feel.”
She swallowed and her arms slipped about his neck then. “It hurt my feelings that you lied to me.”
He gave her a smile then. He wanted to kiss her, but it was too dangerous. He could see the large bed from where he stood in the doorway and a piece of him wanted to sweep her into it and be damned the consequences. “That is better. You’ve every right to be angry. I lied to you and I am sorry for it. I hope you can forgive me.” He brushed a loose strand of hair back from her face. “My only excuse is that I didn’t know you’d be so wonderful. I was trying to protect myself.”
He felt her relax against him. “I do understand.” She lightly massaged the skin of his neck and it made him ache to be even closer to her. “My excuse for becoming so distraught is that I assumed…” she paused, her eyes looking away.
“What?” He gave her a squeeze.
“That you likely didn’t care about me. Even as a friend.” Fresh tears glistened in her eyes.
He swallowed hard, an ache stabbed in his chest over her pain. “Why would you think that?”
“My own father…” her words trailed off again as fresh tears spilled onto her cheeks.
She didn’t have to finish, he knew. Her own father hadn’t loved her when he should have. No one understood that pain better than him. Sweeping her into his arms, he turned away from the temptation of the bed. Instead he carried her to the settee in front of the fire. He sat down with her in his lap and settled her against him. He stroked her back as she buried her head into his neck and cried silent tears. He could feel them against his skin. The dampness went deeper. Deeper still until he could feel them in his heart.
He had no idea how much time had passed. They hadn’t spoken, he’d simply comforted her the best he could. But at some point, she’d fallen asleep. Softly he stood and carried her to her room then settled her on the bed.
He debated
undressing her, but it was too much to bear and so he tucked her under the covers instead and crept out of the room.
For a long time, he sat by the fire and stared into its flames. He had this vague sense that he was repeating his past. Driving the person who he cared for the most away. A vice squeezed around his chest, making it difficult to breathe. Try as he might to find a solution, answers continued to elude him.
Chapter Ten
The next morning dawned bright and sunny. It was in stark contrast to Ella’s mood. Last night had left her eyes dry and red and her stomach feeling hollow.
A mirror sat above the dressing table and a quick glance confirmed that her eyes were puffy. She didn’t remember getting into bed. She’d woken at some point in the night and removed her clothing, returning to bed in her chemise. She’d tried to recall what had happened after she’d cried in Matthew’s arms. But all that came to mind was the feel of his strength and the gentleness of his touch. At some point, she must have fallen asleep sitting there.
A hot wave of embarrassment spread across her cheeks. Not only had she cried on him, but she’d allowed her emotions to get the better of her, letting him see exactly how hurt she’d been. She sighed. Friendship seemed an unlikely end, though she desperately wanted him in her life. Her display last night surely meant that he would wish to rid himself of her.
Why wouldn’t he? She had cried in front of him twice in as many days. She’d taken his charity and been angry with him when he hadn’t told her all the details of his life. He’d likely drop her at the nearest home for unwed women and leave her there.
Washing up, she set about readying herself for the day. As usual, when she stepped out her room, he waited for her with an assortment of food. It eased some of the tension building inside of her.
“Good morning,” he said.
His deep voice rumbled through her. “Good morning,” she returned, not quite able to meet his eye. She was afraid of what she might see.
“Are you looking forward to visiting the orphanage?” He came around the table and held out the chair for her.
She sat, and looked at the food, rather than him. “Very much.” She didn’t dare look at him. Not when he confused her so much.