Marquess of Menace (Lords of Scandal 10)

“Try to understand, Bash,” she murmured, not bothering to turn her head and look at him. Dylan’s chest made the perfect pillow and her eyes fluttered closed. “I want to travel, see the world, do exciting things. I wasn’t meant to just embroider or sit at tea.”

Dylan chuckled and it reverberated through her cheek in the most pleasant way. She tilted her head back to look up at him. “Amen to that.”

“You don’t want to sit idle either?”

He shook his head. “I’ve never been good at it. I like change. Excitement. It gets me into trouble a fair amount.”

She nodded as her hand fluttered to his chest. She could feel the strong beat of his heart underneath her fingers. “I understand completely.”

Bash cleared his throat, loudly and obviously. “Eliza, are you ready to sit on your own?”

“No,” Dylan answered before she had to. “She’s fine right here.”

She turned deeper into his chest. She was fine. Right here. Despite one of the worst mornings of her life, she was completely fine wrapped in the strength of his arms.

She’d have to leave soon enough, and she’d need to figure out her future. She shuddered to think about it, and he held her tighter to his chest.

She burrowed in. Despite what she’d just said about adventure and freedom, she had the feeling that she belonged here, wrapped in his strong embrace.

Dylan squeezed her tighter.

He’d known needy women before. Hell, he’d known nearly every type of woman. But there was something about a very strong one curled into him that pulled on every heartstring he had.

She normally faced the world with her shoulders straight and her head held high. It made him feel strong to think that she, of all people, needed him. His family certainly didn’t value him, but Eliza did and that meant something. Didn’t it?

And in this regard, he wouldn’t let her down. He’d comfort her until he couldn’t anymore.

The depth of his conviction frightened him a bit. He couldn’t remember feeling this strongly about anything.

Once the carriage pulled up to the house, he’d send her inside and go home.

He’d allowed her too much sway over him tonight.

Dylan didn’t become involved in other people’s lives. He could barely manage his own. And marrying a woman like Carmella would finally prove that he was the son his family had always wished he could be. He’d do the right thing. Not that they were alive to see it, but still.

He remembered the countless times he’d let his family down.

He’d arrived at a cousin’s wedding completely intoxicated. He’d heard about that one for days.

Granted it was Henry’s nuptials, who at the time had been heir, and the man his parents constantly held up as the shining example of proper behavior in contrast with Dylan’s own personal failings. But still. Dylan was the one who’d made an ass of himself in front of the entire family. He supposed embarrassing them was his way of getting back at them for never being enough.

And then there was the affair with Henry’s wife he’d had later on. The poor girl had been starved for affection. But that’s not why he’d done it. He’d somehow wanted to prove that one person found him more desirable than dear Henry.

He closed his eyes as shame washed over him.

Eliza’s hand tightened around him.

But the memories, they pulled him away from her. He wasn’t worth the ground she walked on. She was spectacular. Beautiful, strong, the pillar of her family, and he…he was a destroyer. He’d worked his utmost to spite the family that never cared for him. Never wanted him.

That’s all he’d ever done.

With his marriage, he was attempting to build up one thing…the title. But he knew he’d personally let down whatever woman he married. How could he possibly be a success at both when he’d never done a thing right in his life?

“Dylan?” She lifted her head.

“We’re nearly there. You should eat and then go straight to bed.” He gave her a soft smile, trying to disguise his inner turmoil.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice hoarse from the crying. “I don’t know how I would have…”