It Had to be the Duke - Christi Caldwell Page 0,27

his head. “At least not that I know of. I feel entirely fine.” That was aside from the gut-churning sickness that had besieged him the moment he’d discovered his carelessness… and his failings.

Lydia briefly closed her eyes, and a little exhalation of what sounded like relief slipped from her beautiful bow-shaped lips on a sigh. When she opened her eyes, however, she was a woman in full command and control of her emotions. “Start over, Geoffrey.”

“I have a son,” he repeated and fisted and unfisted his hands, before relaxing his palms and flexing them open. “Rather, I have… three sons and a daughter.”

The shock of that discovery hit him square in the chest, as fresh and new as when Wesley Audley had informed Geoffrey of his—and their—existence. All the energy left him, and he collapsed onto the seat beside her.

“I—” Lydia started and then stopped. She tried again. “I—” She failed once more.

Where in hell to begin? “When you… When we…” He glanced at his hat resting on the opposite chair, directing his gaze there, because that was far easier than meeting her eyes for this telling, and he was a coward. “When your parents put that ultimatum to you, the one that ended in our parting, I was gutted. Destroyed.”

“Geoffrey,” she whispered, her voice catching and breaking, and she covered one of his hands with hers. He closed his eyes at the warmth and rightness of that soft, supportive touch.

His gaze fell to his lap, and he turned his palm up so that Lydia’s fingers and his were linked before he remembered that he didn’t deserve that connection.

He let his hand go lax, and yet, she remained that way with her palm resting in his. “I took any number of lovers,” he said, his voice flat to his own ears. “I drank so much and wagered even more, and I was just trying to numb myself to feeling anything but the pain of losing you.”

From the corner of his eye, he caught the tremble of her lower lip and the sheen of tears that glazed her eyes.

“I met an actress. It was the night of your betrothal ball. Pamela was lovely, and commanded the stage. We struck up a… relationship.” God help him, he couldn’t look at Lydia. There was so much wrongness in speaking of Pamela Audley, or any woman, to the only woman who’d held his heart. “She traveled on and off, performing throughout Europe.” He grimaced. “Or so I thought. I was wr-wrong.” His voice broke. Now he knew, because of Wesley, that during those extended absences, she’d been giving birth to his children. Oh, God, I am going to throw up. Why hadn’t she told him?

“You loved her,” Lydia said softly. “I’m so sorry.”

She’d express remorse for his pain.

“I didn’t love her,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut. He’d been capable of loving only one woman, the woman who sat beside him now, offering support and an ear when he deserved nothing from her… or anyone. “She deserved to be loved, but I was incapable of it. You and I had just…parted.” His heart had been shattered, and he’d focused on losing himself and drowning out his own pain. Or trying to.

It had just been one more way in which he’d failed the young woman. Perhaps had he loved her as she’d deserved, then she could have trusted that she could confide in him about Wesley, Rafe, Hunter, and Cailin. “I didn’t know about them, Lydia.”

This time, he made himself open his eyes and look at her, because he’d allowed himself to be blind to so much that he’d not keep his eyes shut to what he’d done and his mistakes or the condemnation sure to meet him. “She didn’t tell me. But this morning, when I returned home from Mowbray’s son’s affair? There was a young man waiting for me. He is my image, Lydia,” he whispered, dragging a shaky hand through his hair. “And he came with a gift I’d given his mother long ago, and I offered him anything—wealth, security, a future. He wants nothing to do with me.” A harsh laugh burst from him. “But then, why should he? He only asked that I secure him a commission to the military. The lowest rank so that he might in turn work himself up to what he deserves.” Pride swelled. He might have failed his children, but just that decision from the boy was testament to the honorable person Wesley was.

Lydia sat