Free Awakening His Duchess by Katy Madison Page B

parents and perhaps her husband must have known that Beau was
alive. Even as she despaired, they hadn’t told her the truth. The betrayal sat
like a stone on her heart, cold and painful. If people she loved and believed
loved her could treat her so badly, what would make Beau different?
    Even he had made promises to her—said he’d love her, would
take care of her—promises he clearly hadn’t meant or didn’t intend to honor
now. She’d thought from everything she knew that he’d meant the marriage, meant
the words he said, meant the vows he’d spoken until this new harsh man stared
at her and said the marriage was not legal, had never been legal.
    “It occurs to me, if Etienne is gone, I am not a problem for
you.”
    As she watched him work through the biting accusation, pain
flickered in his eyes.
    She wished she could pull back her words.
    He stared at her, his arm keeping her from moving any
closer.
    A shiver traveled down her spine. What was best for Etienne
was that she bite her tongue and accept anything Beau wanted of her, but she
would take him away if she had any inkling Beau would take out his anger toward
her and her family on their son. Still until he showed otherwise, it would be
best for Etienne to have his father, to not bear all the weight of being the
duke’s sole heir. “I am sorry. Truly I am glad you are alive. I did not—”
    “You think you can apologize and everything will be all
right? I went through years of hell thinking I was mad—” He bit off his words and
stared at the ceiling while his fingers tightened like osprey talons on her
shoulder.
    “No, of course not.” She resisted wincing while her heart
thumped oddly.
    Slaves were treated horribly. She had known it was bad in
Saint-Domingue, but not how horrible until she came here. All around here
tenant farmers and itinerate laborers worked hard without whips applied to
their backs. Her father, her husband had told her how slaves were treated was
just the way of the world and she was silly for being concerned for the welfare
of men who were just beasts of burden. She witnessed far too many Africans
being beaten down until they moved like molasses, their spirits as broken as
the bodies that gave out on them in just a few years in spite of the poultices
and treatments she gave the ones she could.
    Had Beau been treated like the rest? How had he survived?
    “The best thing you can do is stay out of my sight. When my
father passes, if I outlive him, I will make arrangements for you to
live elsewhere. But so help me God, were it not for that boy in there, I would
have you cast in a gutter and consider that too good for you.”
    He presented his back and walked down the hall, never
looking back.
    Her chest tightened as if the air was no longer available to
breathe, and her stomach knotted. He hated her. She’d held onto her memory of
that night they shared and held it close to her like a candle chasing away the
darkness of memories of the bloodbath that had been her home. For that one
shining moment her life had been perfect. She’d loved him enough to risk her
future, but had she been nothing more than an amusement for a spoiled rich
nobleman’s son?
    As she rubbed her shoulder where he had gripped her, she
couldn’t find it in her heart to blame him. He had endured hell, not that she
had ever wanted him to suffer.
    She straightened and gathered herself. She had faced far
worse crises than this. Beau was alive, not dead, and home to take his rightful
place. That was good, she told herself, not for her, but in the greater scheme
of things. Etienne would have a father again. His rightful father. A father who
wanted him to ride horses in spite of the danger.
    But no matter what Beau thought she wouldn’t let him hurt
her son. Their son. His son. Her head spinning with the evening’s developments,
she just wanted to go to her room and shut out the world.
    She turned down the corridor to her room only to step inside
to find a bare