Chap. 21

            Eriol was at Whitmore, a gambling house for exclusive members (not even some of the members of the royal members were allowed membership), all of them nobility who gambled for higher stakes in a more discreet setting. The gain or loss of several hundred thousand pounds was a daily occurrence. The loser was expected to concede graciously and the winner to refrain from extensive gloating; this was, after all, for sport, not for the mere sake of money.

            He looked up as Jon entered the airy, open gaming room and allowed a glimmer of a hesitant smile to show on his face. Jon grinned in return. "How are you doing today, your grace?" he asked Eriol with a special emphasis on the last two words teasingly. "And how is your little duchess?"

            Cerulean eyes turned into chips of ice. "I'm fine today, my lord, and I'm sure that she's doing fine, not that I care."

            "What happened between you two?" Jon asked quietly. It wasn't really a question, but a demand. Over the few months, he had begun to regard Tomoyo as his friend, though, perhaps, that bond wasn't as close as that which he had for Eriol.

            But Eriol wasn't the same man he had been before. He wasn't the powerful man, who was prone to flippantly ignoring the rules of high society, who Jon had regarded as a friend all his life. Hell, he wasn't even the warm, loving man who had loved his wife with unnatural adoration and devotion than was acceptable among the ton.  He was…someone else, different in some indiscernible way. His face was, once again, inscrutable and harsh, yet Jon knew what he was hiding; the lines on his face spoke of inner torture that he found unendurable, but had no choice but to endure or be destroyed. The grim line of his mouth betrayed the fact that the duke was clinging tenaciously to his feeling of self-preservation, and he was going to win regardless of the price. Even if the price was to give up the woman he still loved with all his heart. Even if his soul cried out for her gentle touch and mourned the loss of its other half. Even if he had to kill himself to do so.

            "Nothing," Eriol snapped in irritation.

            From the beginning, the duke had seemed infallible to many, but Jon had known better. He was human-a damned, stubborn human at that, but human nevertheless. Despite his façade, he had the capacity to love and to hate; the dangerous thing was that he hated as fiercely as he loved.

            Eriol was a human being who had always trusted his pragmatic mind more than his heart. Perhaps that explained why he had been so skeptical about unexplainable emotions…like love. But now, what he felt was too much to ignore and his usual inclination toward the "reasonable" part of his mind was tearing him apart.

            "I know something is wrong," he said patiently.

            "I'm astonished. I admire your keen sense of perception," was the caustic answer.

            Jon doggedly questioned Eriol with great persistence. "You had a wonderful marriage, Eriol. Most of the time when I saw you, after your marriage that is, you were too sickeningly happy for my taste. Oh, never mind the times I wanted to punch your face in for being so cheerful in the morning; I prefer you like that to you being in such a black mood."

            "Too bad. You'll have to deal with it, my lord."

            The earl of Clarence stood up stiffly. "If bitching at me was all you wanted me for, Clynester, I see no further reason to stay." He turned to leave, then stopped. "I don't know what's going on, but you're not the Eriol I love like a brother. What more do you want from life? You have a wonderful marriage--"

            "I have a marriage of INconvenience!" the duke said tersely, lurching to his feet. "You don't know the pain I'm going through right now, Clarence!"

            "Then tell me."

            Eriol's mouth snapped shut; silence overwhelmed the room, and the men at the other private gaming tables eyed their belligerent stance curiously.

            "Is it true then?" Clarence asked softly under his breath. "Are the rumors about Tomoyo having affairs…?"

            The duke sat down and buried his head in his hands, and Jon knew. He slowly sat beside his friend. "Oh God…"

            "I was such a fool; I thought she was innocent and harmless. Now, the lily I plucked from the gutter has turned into a snake in my hands," the duke said stonily.

            "Then you'd best destroy it before it bites; you'll never survive its poison."

            He smiled softly. "I know. Don't worry. I've already begun to do so. First, I'll remove her from my sight, and then I'll get rid of all these memories."

*******

            She could hear the whispers as she descended the grand staircase without Eriol at her side. Vicious gazes, veiled as friendly, inquiring looks were swept her way, and red lips were lifted upwards in a malicious curl. Tomoyo tactfully ignored all of them and made her way through the colorful crowd, until she reached her tall friend.

            "Jon, it's good to see you." She smiled brightly at him. "I have to talk to you about…Eriol. We…We've been having some problems."

            The man who had teased her and flirted with her was silent. His icy gaze raked across her features in contempt. "I have no inclination to speak to you, your grace," he said too formally considering their close acquaintance. He gestured carelessly toward his lady companion at his side. "As you can see, I'm quite indisposed. No offense to your grace, of course."

            "Of course." She looked away, miserable, wondering what she did to offend the earl who had been amiable a few days back.

            The lady with him smiled spitefully. "I heard those rumors about you, your grace. It's most unfortunate. I just wanted to tell you, however, that I really don't believe a word of it. It's quite scandalous. They say that the duke doesn't love you any longer."

            To Tomoyo's surprise, the earl did not come to her defense, but merely looked away. She finally bowed her head. "That's a lie."

            "Of course it is." The mollifying agreement was delivered with a thinly veiled skepticism.

            "Truly, I speak truth."

            The other eavesdropping women tittered in the background under the smiling pretense of nonchalance. Even so, she could feel the way they were demolishing her reputation behind her back, the way they ridiculed her; she didn't care. She refused to let go of the one truth that was keeping her alive beneath the weight of her current hardship—the hope and knowledge that Eriol still loved her. If not, why would he be so jealous of what was obviously a misunderstanding?

            She felt firm hands steering her toward the balcony where the ton could see them, but could not hear them. She looked up, startled, at the earl who was dragging her along, a muscle in his jaw ticking furiously.

            When they arrived at their destination, he said angrily, "Why are you making a fool of yourself? Despite what you've done you're still his bloody wife who bears his name. You're destroying what little pride he has left!"

            Tomoyo looked up at him in confusion and a touch of annoyance. "What in hell are you talking about?"

            "Don't pretend not to know! Eriol has told me all about it!"

            "About what?"

            Jon's white-knuckled hand gripped the railing tightly. He was absolutely disgusted and incensed by her charade and pretense. "I still thought you had the dignity of giving in graciously when your dirty deeds were uncovered. Apparently, I was wrong.

            "Do you expect him to love you when you've had affairs with other men? Do you expect to believe you when he has indisputable proof? Did you think he would take you back when you scarred him, demolished his pride, and humiliated him?" he snarled at her, more angry at himself for having believed her false little heart and his inability to protect his friend. "I tell you, while Eriol might not give a damn about what his peers think of him, he gave a damn about you and how you thought of him. He made you his everything and you heartlessly threw it all away."

            He watched as a flicker of realization dawned across her face. That's why…Tomoyo now understood it all: the "guests" he claimed that she had been entertaining, his bitterness as he touched her face, his wish to remain away from her. A tear slid down her pale face. "Did he really tell you that, Jon?" she asked, brokenly. "Didn't he trust me?"

            The earl felt his iron will waver and fall into uncertainty. His eyes met hers and he saw what Eriol had been too blinded by rage and retaliation to see. He saw what Eriol had refused to see because he was so deep in his jealousy and his automatic assumption that she was the worst kind of wife a man could wish her. He saw love, pain, understanding, and sorrow in her violet eyes and felt as if his heart might shatter in her grief. He clenched his jaw. "It's not true, is it?" he finally asked her gently.

            "No. I swear to you on my life." She bowed her head to hide her tears. "I don't know how this misunderstanding came to be, but it isn't reality. I was always faithful to my husband. I love him."

            A shudder ran through him. "You do believe me, don't you Jon?" she cried. "Tell me that you, at least, have faith in me. Tell me, damn it!"

            "I believe you," he said, and at those three words, he saw that she looked relieved.

            "Good," she said, smiling slightly. "Now, all I have to do is-"

            "He won't believe you." Jon couldn't meet her questioning eyes. "He's blinded by his own assumptions, rage, and jealousy. To him, you are a scheming liar. His proof condemns you in his eyes and you couldn't convince him otherwise.

            "Go far away from here, Tomoyo. Go, if you want to keep from hurting him further and destroying yourself. If you stay, both of you will tear each other apart."

            "I can't."

            "He won't permit himself to love you anymore; he's killing it himself. I saw him, Tomoyo. He was so far gone that even I couldn't have stopped it had I not been convinced by him; Eriol has never been the type to jump to conclusions…except maybe in your case when his emotions overwhelm his reason," Jon informed her softly.

            "Is this it, Jon? Is it too selfish to ask for love?" she asked him.

            "For his sake, save him, Tomoyo. If you remain, he'll continue blaming you and exterminate his heart. You'll resent him for what you think is a serious lack of trust. You won't be able to understand."

            "He still loves me," she said desperately. "He needs me. I can't believe that he could be so unfeeling, so cold.

            "I won't make the same mistake I've made before; I won't judge him before I know the complete truth from his own lips." She whirled and left her friend standing alone, staring out at the stars.

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That's it, folks. Getting more depressing, eh? Review as always. One last thing, do you prefer this to be a sorrowful ending or a happy one?