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“Because you also saw me at my lowest—avoiding my responsibilities and drinking myself into oblivion. Being rude and disrespectful.”

Emily licked her lips, curling her fingers into his shirt. “I would never judge a man solely on his mistakes. Everyone makes mistakes. It’s what we do after that counts and determines what kind of people we are. God knows I’ve made my share or do you think I am perfect? The woman who got with child out of wedlock and tricked another man into marrying her? Do you think I don’t get up some mornings and feel like I’ve already lost and there’s no point to anything in this life? I do. More than you know.” She pressed a palm to his cheek. “Some days I feel so defeated that I even fail to do the basic chores. But I wake up the next day and try again. So, yes, I know you will make more mistakes, it is inevitable. You will not be a perfect husband, a perfect parent, or a perfect human every day. But as long as you wake up the next day and the day after and try again, you cannot fail.”

Alec sat there silent for a few long minutes, and Emily waited for him to sift through his thoughts in peace. She stood between his knees, caressing his upper arms gently.

Finally, he raised his hand and slowly, tenderly pressed it against her belly. “Then I think it is time for us to go home.”

Emily’s eyes widened as she struggled to comprehend his words.

“To Ireland,” he clarified. “Before it’s too difficult for you to travel. I want to show you our home. My country seat. I want our first child to be born there.”

Warmth spread from the place he was touching her throughout her body to the tips of her toes and fingers.

Our first child.

She leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. “I would like that very much.”

Alec had promised his wife to try to be the best version of himself he could possibly be. And he wasn’t certain what he was about to do next qualified. Or if he was falling back on his bad habits. All he knew was that it needed to be done.

He left the house in the afternoon, and now stood in a dark parlor, awaiting an audience. The door opened, and a slim, short man—perhaps, just compared to Alec—with blond hair entered the room.

“Your Grace.” The man sketched a bow, freezing only a few steps away from the door.

“No need to ask for refreshments, O’Malley,” Alec said. “I shan’t be long.”

Bernard swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Alec walked toward him with measured steps. To his surprise, the shorter man didn’t back away.

“You know who I am, do you not?” Alec raised a brow.

Bernard nodded. “The Duke of Tyrone, of course.”

Alec tsked and shook his head. “I am not talking about the respectable Duke of Tyrone right now. I am talking about the Mad Duke. The one who races like a devil, drinks like a sailor, and wins duels even when deep in his cups.”

Bernard cocked his head but remained silent.

“Well, if you come too close to my wife ever again,” Alec said hoarsely, “you’ll know the sharp end of my sword.”

Bernard let out a nervous chuckle. “Surely, you are not mad enough to duel over your wife’s honor. It would besmirch her reputation.”

“They call me the Mad Duke for a reason, O’Malley. I care not one whit about a reputation. I care about you staying away from my wife.”

Bernard’s lips twisted in an ugly smile. “As it happens, I do know you, Mad Duke. The man who can’t stay sober for more than a day. A man who abandoned his dukedom to rot. A feral man who duels at the sound of a sneeze. You brought disgrace to your name. You’ve been sober for two days and suddenly you think you’re a better man than I am? What makes you think you can suddenly become the husband she deserves?”

Alec smirked lightly. A few days ago, hearing this would’ve triggered his temper. It would’ve prompted him to hit the bastard in the face causing disgrace to his name once more. Proving to the world that he was still the same Mad Duke as before. But now, it only made him smile. “Because she believes I can.” He passed Bernard and paused at the door. “She also believes that you’re a piece of horse crap. And she is always right.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Ireland

Two months later…

“You can open your eyes now.” A violent drumming of her heart followed the command.

Emily nearly burst from anticipation. Alec had brought her into the nursery but insisted she close her eyes before stepping inside. Now, as she opened them, she had to blink a couple of times to get used to the light, and then her mouth slacked open in awe.

She twirled around the room taking in the new decor. The previously dull white walls now shone a crisp sky blue, with a border of playful angels dancing across the ceiling. The newly made furniture, toys, and a full wall lined with books and puzzles adorned the room.