Marquess of Malice (Lords of Scandal 2)

This was why he stayed away from women. Until now, he’d carefully concealed his heart and all its emotions and he wasn’t sure that he wanted to open that vault.

“Can’t we continue discussing you? Why did it take two days for your family to notice you were gone?”

She sighed. “I stayed in my room a great deal.”

Then his gaze narrowed. “And the beating?”

She reached for his hand, slipping her fingers through his. “I got a spanking with a paddle. Nothing more. Though it did hurt quite a bit.” She pressed her lips together. “I suppose I had the boy in the story receive a real beating because that was how I felt emotionally. At the time, I wasn’t certain boys felt that same hurt of being neglected so I gave him a more tangible, physical pain.”

He winced even as he gently massaged the palm of her hand. “They do feel that pain, they’re just better at hiding it.”

Cordelia nodded. “What did your father do to you?”

He closed his eyes, his throat sticking together. “My father hated me. I didn’t want to believe it for the longest time. In fact, I dreamed as a child that he’d change his mind. I tried to be good so that he’d love me.”

“Oh, Chad.”

“Do you know that he never used that name? Only my nanny did before she was fired for caring about me. I thought no one would ever use it again. Until you.” Somehow that thought soothed him. “I like it when you say it, though.”

“What did he call you?” Her voice was soft and soothing but he heard the tremor.

“Mostly ‘boy’ but occasionally, when he was drunk and angry, ‘bastard.’”

“You know that this conversation is just between us but are you a bastard?”

That actually made him smile. Just a small upturn of his lips. “I think I’d actually prefer that. It would explain so much but alas, I am the spitting image of my father.”

“Then how could he not have a kind word for you? I lamented being the lost child at times but my parents loved me.” She tightened her fingers around his.

“I wish I had an answer. If I were to guess, I’d say he blamed me for the loss of my mother, but he never said.”

She brought his hand to her chest, resting it against her chemise. “And how badly did he hurt you…physically?”

His jaw clenched. “After he fired the nanny, I was angry and became belligerent. There were times our relationship was very volatile.”

“How old were you?”

He swallowed down the bile that had risen in his throat. “Five.”

“So from the age of five on he did what? He beat you?”

Her voice shook though he didn’t look at her face. He was trying very hard to keep the emotion out of the conversation. He needed to understand why he had to guard his heart, which meant he could never fully give it to her.

“Well, I left for school at the age of six and then I was only home for holidays.” He picked a point at the wall to stare at.

She slipped her hand out from under his and pressed his open palm to her chest. He could feel the swell of her breast under his thumb and fingers. He had to confess that her soft warmth was comforting beyond measure. “I understand now.”

“Good,” he answered giving a tight nod. “I don’t want to mislead you in anyway. I never have.”

“I know that. I can’t tell you how much I’ve appreciated your honesty. I have to confess, that it’s part of the reason we ended up engaged. I don’t have to wonder what you’re thinking. I’m truly grateful.”

“And what are the other reasons we are engaged?” He leaned down, resting his head next to her shoulder.

“Well, the fact that you’re a marquess helped.”

He chuckled. “Usually does.” Then he pressed a kiss onto her shoulder. “You don’t feel as though I’ve forced you into this match?”

His hand was still on her chest and she laid hers over his. “No. I don’t. But you have opened my eyes to what you will need from our marriage.” If he was being honest with himself, she’d shown him what he needed. He hadn’t wanted affection and love, but he’d found it and needed it more than ever.