Secluded with the Rogue

Chapter 14

Chapter 14

T he study was dimly lit, the fire in the hearth casting flickering shadows across the walls. Alexander sat in one of the leather armchairs, a glass of brandy in his hand, but he had not taken a sip. His thoughts were a chaotic mess, his chest tight.

He had come so close. Close to kissing her, close to breaking through those walls she had built between them, close to doing things that a husband should do to his wife and no other. Indeed, he had done just that.

And yet, the past—the choices he had made and the choices he had avoided—stood like a chasm between them. He wanted to tell her everything, to explain why he had left her without a word all those years ago. But maybe, deep down, he was not ready to face the consequences of telling her.

The creak of the study door interrupted his thoughts, and he looked up just as Henry entered, his expression tight and serious. There was no lightheartedness, no trace of the carefree gentleman who had been hosting the ball earlier. This was the Henry who knew him better than anyone else and the one person who knew the truth about what had happened five years ago.

“Alexander,” Henry said, closing the door firmly behind him. His voice was low, but there was an edge to it, as though he had been holding back for too long. “We need to talk.”

Alexander sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I figured this was coming.”

Henry strode toward the chair opposite Alexander and sat down, leaning forward with a frown. “I saw you leave with her earlier. You have already done enough damage, have you not?”

Alexander flinched at Henry’s words, guilt gnawing at him. “I did not mean for it to happen this way, Henry. You know that.”

Henry’s eyes darkened as he leaned back in his chair. “I do know that. But that does not change the fact that you hurt her, Alexander. And she is still hurting. She deserves to know the truth.”

Alexander stared into his glass, the amber liquid almost glittering in the candlelight. He had known Henry would find him, that this conversation would come, but he still was not ready to face it. Not yet. But Henry’s words hit harder than any confrontation he’d had with Genevieve.

Henry already knew the truth. He had known for years, and he had kept it a secret for him—for Alexander—but now, that unspoken agreement between them was wearing thin.

“She will not listen to me,” Alexander said quietly. “Not right now.”

“Then make her listen,” Henry snapped, his voice sharper than Alexander had ever heard it. “She has every right to know why you left her, why you broke her heart without a word of explanation. She has been living with that pain for years, and you—” He paused, rubbing a hand over his face in frustration. “You have been hiding behind your father’s decisions as if that excuses what you did.”

Alexander felt a tight knot form in his chest. “You know what he was like, Henry. You know what he would have done if I had defied him.”

Henry’s gaze softened, but the edge of anger still lingered. “I know. Your father was… difficult, to put it lightly. But you still had a choice, Alexander. And now you have another one. Either you tell her the truth, or I will.”

Alexander’s grip tightened around the glass in his hand. The threat was not idle. He knew Henry meant every word. And as much as Alexander appreciated his friend’s loyalty over the years, this was one secret that Henry would not keep for much longer.

“Do you think it will make a difference now?” Alexander asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “After everything that has happened?”

“It does not matter if it makes a difference,” Henry replied, his voice firm. “She deserves to know. She deserves to understand why you left. If you do not tell her, then you are only prolonging her pain. And I will not let you do that to her.”

The silence in the study grew heavy as Alexander’s mind raced, memories of his father’s harsh words crashing over him like a tide.

Five years ago, his father had summoned him to his study. Alexander could still hear the sharp tone, the cold disappointment in his father’s voice. The Duke of Wycliffe had made his expectations clear—marry someone of higher standing, secure the family’s position, or be disowned. Stripped of everything. He had threatened to cut Alexander off completely, to leave him without the title, the inheritance, the name.

At the time, Alexander had been terrified. He had wanted to fight for Genevieve, for the love they had shared, but the weight of his father’s threats had crushed any hope he had of defying him. He had thought he was protecting her by walking away—by sparing her the burden of being tied to a man without a title, without a future.

But he had not realized how much damage he had caused in the process.

“I was afraid,” Alexander admitted, his voice strained. “He threatened to take everything from me—my title, my inheritance, everything. And I did not know how to fight him. I did not want Genevieve to be dragged down with me.”

Henry leaned forward, his expression softening slightly. “I know you thought you were protecting her. But you never gave her the chance to decide for herself, Alexander. You took that choice away from her.”

The truth hit him like a punch to the gut. Henry was right. He had taken the choice away from Genevieve, assuming he knew what was best for her. And in doing so, he had only caused her more pain.

“I should have fought harder,” Alexander whispered, his voice laced with regret.

“You should have,” Henry agreed, though there was no malice in his tone. “But you did not. And now you have a chance to make it right. Tell her the truth, Alexander. She deserves that much.”

Alexander stared into the fire, the flames flickering in the hearth as his mind raced. The truth had been eating away at him for years, and now, after everything, it was time to finally face it. Genevieve deserved to know why he had left, why he had made the choices he had.

But the fear was still there, lurking in the corners of his mind. What if she could not forgive him? What if telling her the truth only pushed her further away?

“She is stronger than you give her credit for,” Henry said quietly as if reading his thoughts. “And you cannot keep hiding from this forever.”

Alexander sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I will tell her.”

Henry nodded, satisfied but still solemn. “Good. Because if you do not, I will. She is my sister, Alexander, and I will not let her live in the dark any longer.”

The weight of the conversation settled heavily on Alexander’s shoulders as Henry stood, giving him one last meaningful look before heading toward the door.

“I hope she understands,” Henry added, his voice softer now. “But whether she does or not… she needs to know.”

And with that, Henry left, the door closing softly behind him, leaving Alexander alone with his thoughts and the overwhelming realization that it was finally time to face the truth.

The fire crackled in the silence, the flames dancing in the hearth, but Alexander’s mind was consumed by the thought of what he would say to Genevieve when he finally told her the truth. It was a conversation he had avoided for far too long, but now, he could not run from it anymore.

He had to tell her. Whether she forgave him or not, he owed her the truth. And he would face whatever came next, no matter the cost.