Chapter Twenty − An Error in Judgement
“What did you do?” Derek asked, his gaze shifting back and forth between the broken jug on the floor and his wife as she stood in the corner, her eyes wild as she seemed to be fighting an opponent he could not see.
A touch of relief filled him to see that she was not in any danger.
At the sound of his family’s worried voices, he turned down the corridor, shaking his head at them as they rushed toward him. “She’s all right. It was only an accident. Go back downstairs.” Then he stepped into the room and closed the door before they could object and demand further details.
Taking a deep breath, Derek debated how to react. From the look of it, Madeline was experiencing some emotional upheaval, making him wonder what it was that had her so distraught. Had something happened of which he was not aware? Had he insulted her somehow? After all, her anger was usually directed at him.
“You ruined my life!” she growled as though in answer to his thoughts, her body tense and her eyes ablaze with outrage. “Why did you come after me? Why could you not have left me alone?” Desperation slowly came to her voice, giving it a painful tone that clutched at Derek’s heart. Was it truly so horrible for her to be married to him?
Anger surged to the surface of his own heart at her continued accusations, and Derek balled his hands into fists to keep from lashing out at her. “I apologise for what happened that night,” he forced out through gritted teeth, “as I have apologised before.” Taking a step closer, he held her gaze, and something in the way he looked at her seemed to douse the flames that danced in her eyes. “I will not live my life apologising for an error in judgement−”
“An error in judgement?” A deep frown came to her face. “That’s what I am to you?”
“Life is what it is,” Derek continued, ignoring her, not daring to answer such a potentially destructive question. “No good ever comes from regretting the past or continuing to dwell on it.” His gaze softened as he held hers. “Make your peace with the past, and then look to the future. Find a way to live your life here at Huntington House without regret, but with pride.”
For a long moment, she remained quiet, the look in her eyes distant, and Derek wondered if she had even heard him. Then slowly she returned to the here and now, and her eyes closed briefly as though she could not bear to look at him. “With pride,” she whispered before her dark green eyes met his. “How can I when I have nothing to be proud of?”
Resentment surged to the surface of Derek’s being as she once again belittled his accomplishments, his home, his family, his position in life. Was nothing ever good enough for her?
Irritated by her complaining, Derek was about to tell her exactly what he thought of her when tears suddenly welled up in her eyes and she shrank back, shaking her head as though pleading with him to leave her alone, to not attack her further. “I cannot contribute anything,” she chuckled, a touch of hysteria to her voice, “for I have nothing to offer.” From one second to the next, she stilled, and her gaze held his, intense and unwavering, open and honest, holding nothing back. “This is not the life I was raised to have, and I do not know how to live it.”
Staring into her eyes, Derek saw the truthfulness of her words, and he could not help but admire her for revealing such a vulnerable side of herself. Slowly, he realised that she had never meant her words as an insult to him, but as a painful truth about herself, about how she saw herself. As confident as she appeared to those around her, in truth, Madeline had a very low opinion of herself, of her own abilities, of her own worth.
Taking a careful step closer, Derek swallowed, his gaze holding hers. “I was never meant to be a baron,” he said, knowing that he ought to repay her for the trust she had just placed in him. A relationship, any good relationship, was based on equality, and her confession had just tipped the scales. Now, it was up to him to bring them back into balance. “I never wanted to be a baron for those belonging to upper society have always been the epitome of indifference, vanity and egotism to me.” He shrugged. “Now that I’m one of them, what does that say about me?”
As her chest rose and fell with even breaths, her eyes held his, searched his, a touch of recognition, of understanding in them that warmed his heart. Carefully, she took a step closer, the look in her eyes asking for more, begging for more, as though his own doubts and conflicting emotions were a balm to her soul.
Nodding, Derek drew in a deep breath. “All my life, I’ve seen people of the ton as the embodiment of all that is wrong with this world. They do not care about anyone but themselves. They do not even see the suffering that is right before their eyes. They live in their own world, ignoring the fact that others slave until their fingers are bloody.”
At his words, she closed her eyes, and her tears spilled over, running down her cheeks. When she looked at him again, Derek saw a touch of guilt, of embarrassment in those dark green eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, wringing her hands. “You’re right. We are like that.” She swallowed. “I am like that.”
Derek shook his head. “You’re not.” Her gaze narrowed. “I was wrong.” Taking another step closer, he reached for her hands, finding them chilled as they rested in his own. “I’ve seen the world as black and white, and I’ve ignored every evidence to the contrary. But now, I’m beginning to see that good people can be found everywhere.” A soft smile came to his face as his mind drifted backwards. “Years ago, the man I now would not hesitate to name as my closest and most trusted friend selflessly and without agenda came to the aid of…one I hold dear,” he continued, unwilling to reveal his sister’s secret without her consent. “He never expected to be repaid for his help. He did what he did because he saw someone in need, and he wanted−truly wanted−to help simply because he has a compassionate heart.” Looking deep into his wife’s eyes, Derek nodded. “That man was Tristan Turner, Viscount Elton, a member of the ton.”
Holding his gaze, Madeline drew in a shaky breath, her eyes clouded as she waited for him to continue.
“Although I fought the realisation that there might be decent people among the ton,” Derek admitted, ashamed to have been so short-sighted, “I could not deny that we were becoming friends. At first, I tried to explain his kindness with the fact that I had just been made a baron and naturally one member of the ton might help another. However, over time, I realised that I could not deceive myself. Tristan is a decent man, an honourable man, and he deserves every happiness he has. However, I continued to think him an anomaly…until I met his sister and her husband as well as close friends of theirs.” Derek sighed, remembering the internal battle that had waged within him not too long ago. A battle that he had not quite won, yet, for hatred that had been nurtured for a long time did not die easily. He would have to continue to fight it, to see the world for what it truly was, and then one day he might succeed and come out the victor. “The most recent evidence was your friend and her husband. I admit I expected him to look down at me, to judge me as someone unworthy of his presence, and I waited for his disregard to prove that I was right.” He shook his head. “But I couldn’t have been more wrong. Just like my friend, they are decent people, kind and caring, able to see past someone’s station in life and judge them for who they are alone.”
Drawing in a trembling breath, Madeline swallowed, her gaze holding his as her mouth opened…then closed. Hesitation rested in her beautiful eyes as well as a fear to be judged. Again, she drew in a breath, this one deep and powerful as though she were gathering all her strength to ask what weighed heavily on her soul. “Do you…see me like that?” Her voice was all but a whisper. “I’m not like Elsbeth, I know that. I’m not kind and caring. I don’t love children. I don’t always find the right words. I don’t find my way to those around me easily.” She swallowed, embarrassment clouding her eyes. “I know I seem to, but it’s a lie. I rarely share anything…profound of myself with others, and I know that I’m not one to be taken into another’s confidence.” She shrugged, her gaze directed inward, analysing the life she had lived. “I suppose they can tell that I’m not being forthright.” Then her gaze shifted to his once more. “I am like those people you despise. I only ever thought of myself, of what I wanted. I never looked any further.” Hanging her head, she stepped back, slowly pulling her hands free from his hold.
Derek could feel her retreat. After all this time, she finally admitted to herself how she saw her life and the decisions she had made. If he let her, she would sink into this abyss of shame and regret that had opened before her and never return.
But he could not.
For she could not be more mistaken.
“I was wrong,” Derek began, his hands holding hers tightly, not allowing her to slip away, “to see the world in only black and white.” Stepping closer, he caught her gaze, the hint of a frown drawing down her brows. “As are you.”
Her frown deepened, confusion resting in her green depths.
“You see others as good and yourself as bad,” he said in simple words, feeling the need to make her understand without doubt and uncertainty. “I jumped to conclusions before. I was wrong to do so, and I believe that you did the same.”
Shaking her head, she stared at him. “But I…I’m not like you. I don’t care about others the way you do. I don’t sacrifice my own life to help them. I don’t−”
“Do you think I do so simply out of the goodness of my heart?” Snorting, Derek shook his head. “No, I do so for very selfish reasons, let me tell you.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, her gaze wide as she searched his eyes, her own curious.
“You love your family, do you not?” he asked, and when she nodded continued. “As do I. We are the same in that regard. Hell, most people are the same in that regard. We all have someone we love. Someone we would move the world for. Someone who means more to us than life itself.”
Madeline nodded; however, the look in her eyes remained doubtful. “But still the fact remains that I’ve never done as you do every day. I’ve never sacrificed−”
“Because you’ve never been asked to,” Derek interrupted, his hands tightening on hers as he held her gaze. “Your life is privileged in many ways, but maybe there is one in which mine can be considered superior as it allowed me to realise the value of life, my own as well as that of others. Your family never needed you to sacrifice anything to survive, but if they had, I’m certain you would have done everything in your power to protect them, to see them safe.”
At his words, her eyes widened, and the touch of a smile came to her lips, distant and faint, merely a ray of hope. “How could you know that?”
“Because no one is truly selfless,” Derek explained, remembering how he had learnt that the proud idea of duty meant nothing if it was not tied closely to an emotional motivation. The war had taught him that those who fought in service of their families had shown a determination in battle unrivalled even by the highest-ranking officer, someone who had chosen to fight for family name and reputation alone. Ideals as cold and dead as any he could think of. What warmed a man’s heart and gave his limbs the strength to keep moving was the love of his family.
“What I do,” Derek continued, a soft smile on his face as he saw the hungry look in her eyes at the small wisdom he shared with her, “I do because my family’s pain is also mine, and in the end, I’m merely protecting myself. I cannot bear to see them suffer, and so I do what I can to not experience that.” He shrugged. “The idea of selfless deeds is so heroic and pure that many do not realise that at their core stands nothing else but self-preservation. A mother who saves her child and gives her own life does so because the alternative would be worse. It seems selfless, but it is not, for in her heart she knows that losing her child would be more painful than giving up her own life.”
“I’ve never felt like that,” his wife whispered, tears brimming in her eyes. Only this time, they shone with a sense of peace as though his revelations helped her understand that she was not at fault. “I’ve never felt such powerful emotions.”
“You never had any opportunity to,” Derek reminded her, his hands still wrapped around hers, her skin now warm against his. “Maybe in this regard, I’m the one with the privileged upbringing.”
A shy smile came to her lips. “Maybe you’re right, and yet, I do not know how this helps me. It does not change that I do not know how to live this life.”
“You can learn,” Derek whispered, hope growing in his heart. “Despite all your complaints,” he said with a good-natured chuckle, “I believe that you want to, or am I wrong?”
Madeline shook her head. “I think I do,” she whispered, a touch of surprise in her voice. “I never thought that this was what I wanted, but now…” She shrugged, confusion still resting in her eyes. “I have no idea how to go about it. How can I even attempt to…find my place here? Today, when your tenants saw me, I know exactly what they thought.” Bitterness rested in her tone. “And I cannot even fault them for it.”
“No one has a say about how they grow up,” Derek counselled. “The life we live shapes us. No one can deny that. Just as your life shaped you, their lives shaped them. They, too, jumped to conclusions. They believe they know exactly who you are…as I once did.” Leaning forward, he looked deep into her eyes. “But I was wrong, and they are too. Now, it is up to you to make them change their minds, to make them see that they, too, were wrong.”
Swallowing, she held his gaze. “Do you truly believe that?”
Derek nodded. “The fact that you care about what they think proves that. You care,” he enunciated. “People who care are not without feeling, without compassion. However, that does not mean that we are all equally able to endear ourselves to others. Believe me, I myself am a rather reticent man.”
A warm smile lit up her face. “You’ve said quite a lot tonight,” she observed, the tone in her voice teasing.
“It was an unusual night,” Derek replied, reluctant to release her hands, but knowing he ought to. “Get some sleep. You must be exhausted.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, allowing her hands to slip from his. And yet, Derek thought to see a touch of regret in those dark green eyes.
“Good night.” Turning to the door, Derek felt himself breathe easier than ever before, and he realised how much the strained relationship to his wife had bothered him. He could only hope that the future would see them happier.
“Wait!”
Stopping with his hand on the door handle, Derek looked over his shoulder, his heart tightening as he saw renewed tension on his wife’s face.
“What should I do?” she asked as she strode toward him, wringing her hands. “I don’t know how to prove them wrong. I don’t know−”
“Meet them with an open mind,” Derek said, nodding to her encouragingly, wondering if he ought to make more specific suggestions. However, judging from the distraught look on her face, he thought she might be grateful for every bit of advice he could offer and not see it as criticism or even an insult. “Maybe you should start by dressing more…comfortably.” For a moment, Derek held his breath, knowing that ladies of the ton were very particular when it came to their wardrobe.
However, his wife nodded eagerly. “I’ve thought of that, too. Maybe Kara can help me.”
“I’m certain she would be delighted to,” Derek replied, his gaze seeking hers. “Everybody likes to be of help.”
As understanding found her, her eyes lit up and she nodded.
“Why did you bring me lunch today?”
Holding his gaze, she swallowed as though embarrassed to reveal the truth. “Because I wanted to help, and I couldn’t think of anything else.”
Derek smiled. “Then let them see it, too. Once they do, they will be more open to seeing the person you are and not the person they believe you to be.”
For a moment, her brows drew down in confusion before they suddenly shot up, and he could see that she had understood him.
“Good night, Madeline,” he whispered, turning back to the door. For a reason, he could not name, he had felt compelled to use her name, to feel it on his tongue and hear it spoken out loud. Maybe this shared moment had truly brought them closer, and using her given name was merely an expression of how it had made him feel.
How indeed?
He could not say.
And yet, his heart felt lighter, warmer and full of excitement for the days ahead.
As he closed the door behind him, he heard the faint sound of her voice, whispering, “Good night…Derek,” and for a moment after he had stepped out into the hall, he closed his eyes and leaned back against the hard wood of the closed door, wishing with all his being that his eyes and his heart had not deceived him.
That she had come to care for her life at Huntington House.
For his family.
For him.