I Kissed an Earl (and I Liked It) (That Wicked O'Shea Family Book 1) by Merry Farmer

Author:Merry Farmer [Farmer, Merry]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-02-12T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

Once, when Christian was stumbling home after a night of carousing with his friends in Rome, he’d stumbled and fallen down a flight of stone stairs. In the process, he’d dislocated his shoulder and had to have one of his other drunken friends push the joint back into his socket. But the pain of that night was nothing to the pain he experienced as he walked away from Marie, knowing he’d hurt her with his coldness.

He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her in the last few days. At least, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her when his mind cleared enough from the fog of grief and estate business that had settled over him. After his wretched meeting with his father’s man of business to bring him up to date on the most dire aspects of his father’s dealings, he’d sunken into contemplation of Marie. On his return home from the coroner, after making arrangements for his father and Miles’s burials, he’d consoled himself by remembering the way Marie’s arms felt around him. All through his consultation with Dr. Phillips about his mother’s chances of recovery, he’d contemplated how much easier everything would be if Marie were there to tend to things on his behalf. He thought about how it would be if she were there to tend to him.

Every time his thoughts had turned sweet and flown to her, he’d cursed himself for a fool and forced himself to concentrate. Marie was a beautiful dream that he didn’t deserve. Murderers didn’t deserve to be happy. And besides, he had a legacy to live up to. He needed to become his father’s son.

“That’s all bullshit, you know,” a voice whispered at the back of his head as he trudged through the garden on his way into the house. “She’s right. You’re punishing yourself for what happened by keeping her away.”

He couldn’t hide the truth from himself. But just because he recognized what he was doing and was well aware that he was using Marie—or rather, her absence—as a means of punishing himself, didn’t mean he had any intention of stopping. He deserved nothing less than to feel as horrible as it was possible for him to feel.

And yet, underneath all of the tragedy and torture, he could still feel his heart beating. The feeling was faint. The kernel of joy that couldn’t be crushed was tiny. But it was there. He would have to destroy it soon, though. Joy had no place in the running of an estate, or in a family that had been decimated by death.

“Oh. Lord Kilrea.”

Christian jerked to a stop at the soft, polite exclamation that came from Lady Aoife. She seemed as surprised to see him in the main hallway of his house as he was to see her. The woman’s face was as pale and pinched as ever, perhaps more so. A sadness of some sort rimmed her eyes with the slightest bit of red. It was the only hint of color the woman had, either physically or in her spirit.

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