Protect & Serve(95)

“I’d like to tell her that I’m sorry for dragging her into this, and that I take responsibility for putting her in such a terrible situation. I took advantage of her drunkenness and did things that I should not take any pride in.”

“Is it true that you’ve formally renounced your claim to your family title?” the interviewer inquired.

“I have. I hope that my half-brother—when he’s born—is a better fit for it than I ever would have been. I can’t say that I’d have made a wonderful brother to him, but perhaps this is something that I could do for my family that wouldn’t be such a black mark.”

“Heavy words of repentance from the debonair Mr. Wolfe,” the newscaster said, looking into the camera, “next up—”

I turned the TV off mid-sentence, utterly dumbfounded by what I’d just heard coming from my stepbrother’s mouth. Why on earth would he lie like that? How could he sit there on national television and say that he was responsible for everything that had happened?

He was protecting me, I realized, tears welling up in my eyes as the truth of it all hit me like a ten-pound hammer. He still loves me.





20





Chapter 20





I had few options left open to me after the scandal, and the only skills I had were best suited for a position in the military—and so it was Her Majesty’s Royal Army that became my only option. I would be able to apply for a return to duty and before I knew it I’d be back in some far-flung land securing the interests of the country. I’d never see combat, even as the disowned son of a lord, but at least I’d be able to have a place to stay and a more than decent wage to keep me going.

At least this way I’d be out of everyone else’s hair and able to hopefully turn myself into the man I knew that I could be—the man that I knew would prove my father wrong. Maybe it wasn’t what I wanted, but at least being in the military would keep me on the straight and narrow, and hopefully out of too much trouble.

I wasn’t even sure where I’d be stationed, all I knew is that I’d be away from the things that would tempt me to be my old self. I could only hope my absence would make everything better for Gwen. Perhaps the interviews had helped and perhaps just maybe she’d find it in her heart to forgive me for what I’d done, but I imagined something like that was a long way away.

I stepped out of the cab as it dropped me off right outside of the recruitment office, breathing in the crowded London air as I tried to push through the crowd of people that was moving to catch the next light on the crosswalk.

I wasn’t sure why, but every step felt like I was pushing against a wind, as though something wanted to keep me out, to warn me away. Maybe I was being foolish, giving in to a deep seated sense that somewhere in the universe there was some force pulling us toward a certain goal. Fate.

But if fate had any meaning then how could something so cruelly pull me from the one woman that I knew was the only one that I’d ever feel any true manner of love for. Fate was a joke, and a sick one at that if it kept me and Gwen apart.

You did that, I reminded myself. Fate had nothing to do with it.

But despite my assurance that only my foolish actions had lead me to where I was, I couldn’t help but hesitate as I reached out for the handle for the recruitment office door. I don’t know what I did it, honestly there was no logical reason to have done it at all, but for a second I stopped before I touched the handle and went inside.

“Tristan!”

The voice stopped me dead in my tracks, my entire body frozen in time as I let that name wash over me like a wave from the ocean. I knew that voice, I’d hoped to hear that voice one last time before I left, but knew that I’d never have that chance again. At least that was what I thought.

I turned toward Gwendolyn’s voice, my mind still in shock from even the vaguest possibility of seeing her again. I almost thought that I’d gone mad, crazed at the idea of her even considering seeing me again. I couldn’t believe it, but there she was.

She wove her way through the crowd of people toward me, trying to keep my attention, my hand only an inch away from the handle of the door. It all felt like a dream. None of it felt real.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, staring down into her gorgeous eyes. I felt like I was going to be sick with guilt just looking at her. All the thoughts of what I’d done kept flooding back to me—how she’d even managed to stand the thought of seeing me again was beyond me.

“I saw the interview,” she said, reaching up to gently caress my face with her soft fingers. “I heard everything that you said… and I know that you lied to protect my reputation. And I wanted to tell you that I appreciated it.”