The Day of the Duchess (Scandal & Scoundrel, #3)

by Sarah MacLean

Regret and shame flared. How many times had he felt them? How many times had they consumed him in the darkness as he searched for her? But they had never felt like this. Without her, they’d been a vague, rolling emotion, present, but never truly there. And now, faced with her, with her tacit acceptance of their past, of his actions, of his mistakes, they were a wicked, angry blow. What a fucking ass he had been. “I cannot take it back. If there were anything in the world I could take back . . .” The breath left her in a stream of frustration then. “Tell me, is it the act for which you lack pride? Or the consequences of it?” He turned to her then, unable to find the proper words to reply. “The consequences?” “My sister landed you on your backside in front of all London, Malcolm. You did not care for it. You meted out punishment on the whole family after that.” Shame again, hot and angry, along with a keen instinct to protect himself. To defend his actions. But there was no defense. None worthy of the blow he’d dealt. None that had ever dismissed his regret for it. I’m sorry. The words were cheap escape.