Free A Terrible Beauty by TASHA ALEXANDER Page B

had died?”
    Truly, I felt horrible. The awful guilt that had haunted me after Philip’s death—if I may still call it that—crept back, twisting itself around my insides. I hadn’t grieved when I heard the news. I had hardly known the man, and despite his claims of loving me, he hadn’t bothered to stay with me for long—he had left for Africa almost as soon as we returned from our wedding trip. Relief rather than despair had filled me when he died, because I had no idea what life with him would have been like. His death brought me a freedom unlike anything I could have imagined, and relishing that freedom came with a strong measure of torment.
    But I had come to terms with all these emotions years ago. How could they return now?

 
    Philip
    London, 1891
    Ashton’s first urge was to knock Hargreaves soundly in the jaw and send him sprawling to the ground, but remembering something about discretion and valor, he resisted the urge. Hargreaves had never seemed the sort of man to take advantage of a lady, but what else could he think had occurred? Then he saw Kallista reach up and touch his friend’s lips, ever so gently, with her delicate little hand.
    This sent Ashton back into a rage. He’d never have expected Kallista would have engaged in such wildly inappropriate behavior, especially in public.
    â€œThis is what I come home to?” He turned to Reiner, his face blotched red. “He is—was—my best friend!”
    Reiner, nodding, took Ashton firmly by the arm and led him back across the square, away from the house. “There is, I do not doubt, much about this situation we cannot at present understand. Is there no one other than Hargreaves and your wife to whom we can turn for an explanation?”
    â€œI would not have myself further humiliated,” Ashton said. “I cannot stay here.”
    â€œShall we go to your sister?”
    â€œSo she can learn that the life she thinks is now hers, a life in which her son, my nephew, has already inherited my title and estate, is no longer to be? I am not convinced anyone from my past will welcome my return.” He bit his lip. “There is nothing for me here. Not anymore.”
    In the span of a single moment, the world he’d once inhabited had lost all of the appeal it had ever possessed. His duty no longer was to wife and family, tenants and estate. None of them had any need for him; his presence could only cause them disruption. Without them and the responsibilities of his former position, he had no purpose.
    Slowly, it occurred to him that for the first time in his life, he could go anywhere, do anything. Never before had he had such freedom. He would require money, of course, but that did not discourage him. He would seek employment, away from England, and make something of himself, become someone who mattered because of more than a title. He let Reiner steer him into a pub, and together they drank until the memory of his best friend kissing his wife ebbed to a dull, aching pain.
    By the end of the week, he had decided, with only a bit of influence from Reiner, to pursue a career in archaeology. Antiquities had always been a passion of his, and the scholarly life appealed to him. He would return to Munich with Reiner, who would help him secure a position on a dig. His friend, delighted with this plan, promised a gushing recommendation, and went so far as to immediately get in touch with his employer, who was already at work in Turkey. After a quick exchange of telegrams, Philip, the Viscount Ashton, was set to earn his living for the first time in his life.
    The decision had not caused him too much pain, although he owned it felt unsettling to no longer have the comfort of financial security and the automatic respect his title had brought. His greatest difficulty came from the decision to give up his wife. Before departing London, he wanted to be sure he was well and truly gone from Kallista’s