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He couldn’t look at Ivy. Couldn’t bear to see her crystal eyes, so full of warmth and heat and desire, shift to fear and mistrust and loathing. Because of course she would hate him when he told her the truth. Just as he hated himself. But it was time. It was time to tell Ivy about Liza.

He exhaled a shaky breath and forced his mouth to form words.

‘Before I tell you, I must ask for your promise to keep certain things confidential. While my own reputation is hardly worthy of protecting, this story involved someone we both know. Someone who might be hurt were certain facts made public.’

Ivy straightened her spine and looked down her nose at Edward, every inch a duke’s daughter in her pious outrage. ‘I hope you know me well enough to trust my discretion, Worthington.’

‘I do trust you, Ivy. Implicitly.’

She hmphed out a breath. ‘I should hope so.’

God, she is marvellous.

Which made the next part of his story even harder to tell. Because he would lose any respect or devotion Ivy might feel for him. But it must be done.

‘My sister was only two years younger than me. Being so close in age, we grew up in each other’s pocket.

To everyone else, she was Elizabeth, but to her closest friends – me and Philippa – she was Liza.

Our father’s country estate abutted Philippa’s land and as children, the three of us spent most of our lives seeking each other out.

Running through the fields, riding ponies, swimming in the lake that separated our properties.

Liza trailed along behind me like a duckling behind her mama.

Drove me mad. But Philippa didn’t mind. She claimed our games were always better with three.

’ Edward smiled at the memories and wished he could end his story there, but once started, he found he couldn’t stop.

‘The summer before I was sent to Eton, we planned an escape. The three of us were going to sneak into the gypsy caravans and go on a grand adventure. Father found us sneaking into the stables one night, pillowcases stuffed with food. He thrashed me properly and I couldn’t leave my room for a week.

Poor Liza was beside herself with guilt and any thoughts we had of escaping our predetermined futures died that night.

I went off to Eton and Liza stayed in the country with Philippa.

‘How I missed them that first year. I’d never spent much time with boys my age and after months of unique torture only young men seem capable of, I longed to return home.

When term finally ended, I raced back to the country, desperate for the comfort of the only two people who truly understood me.

Philippa, Liza, and I fell back into our easy friendship as though no time had passed.

But as I spent more time away with the boys at Eton, listening to them brag about their escapades, talk about the women they would bed or wed, my feelings for Philippa shifted.

She was my closest friend and the only woman I could imagine spending my life with. ’

‘You fell in love with her.’

Hearing Ivy speak the words out loud only reminded Edward what a foolish lad he’d been.

His dry laugh was bitter with self-loathing.

‘I thought I was in love. But what does a twenty-year-old pup know of love? That summer, I had it all planned out. I would confess my undying devotion to Philippa and when I inherited my father’s title and lands, we would invite Liza to come and live with us.

‘She had been out in society for four years by then, but resolutely rejected any interested suitors, much to the frustration of my father. Liza had long professed to me her desire to remain single, and I convinced Father not to force her into a match too soon. Not until she had time to find the right man. But once Philippa and I wed, we could extend an invitation for Liza to stay with us, and she need never marry if she didn’t wish it.

In that moment, I felt so goddamned generous.

The benevolent older brother providing his sister with sanctuary. ’

‘Philippa agreed to marry you?’ Ivy’s shocked gasp forced his gaze to her face and, if the story weren’t so tragic, he would have laughed at her wide-eyed expression of disbelief.

‘She never got the chance to give me an answer because I never asked. Fate spared me what would surely have been an unforgettable rejection.’

‘Ah.’ Ivy nodded, as though she understood. But she didn’t. Not yet.

‘I was young and stupid and caught up in the first flash of desire, bright and consuming in its newness.’ He shook his head in disgust at his own hubris. ‘Such a fool! I was so lost in my obsession, I failed to see what was right in front of me.’

‘What?’ Ivy leaned forward, her bright eyes focused on him, lips parted. Even in the depths of his darkest memories, her beauty distracted him for a moment. But he needed to continue. To tell her everything and be done with it.

‘Philippa and Liza. They were mad for each other. They’d been falling in love for years. Certainly longer than I’d been in love with Philippa. And unlike my flash of passion, I believe their love ran deep.’

‘Goodness. Philippa and your sister? That must have been quite a shock for you, Edward.’

The last thing he deserved was her sympathy. ‘It shouldn’t have been. If I’d only opened my eyes to see the truth instead of the fantasy I conjured.’

Ivy scooted back on his bed, bending her legs and wrapping her arms around them. Her pink toes peeked out from her white linen nightgown, and she rested her chin on her knees. ‘How did you find out? Did Philippa tell you?’

Edward could still remember the moment he discovered them.

‘No. I found them. One afternoon, we were all meant to go riding. The girls weren’t in the house, so I went out to the stables to look for them.

Philippa had Liza trapped against the stall.

At first, I thought they were just being silly, but then I saw her kissing Liza. And Liza kissed her back.’

‘Oh, my.’ Ivy huffed out a breath and he wondered if she was trying to imagine it.

Edward’s memory of that moment was burned into his mind.

Warm sunlight filtered through the barn door.

Sweet hay tickled his nose, and the sounds of feminine laughter drew him deeper into the barn.

Philippa was wearing one of her scandalous split skirts.

Her leg was pressed between Liza’s more traditional riding habit.

One hand was buried in Liza’s chestnut hair and the other gripped his sister’s waist. Philippa whispered something in Liza’s ear and her smile lit up the barn.

But Edward didn’t see the love shimmering between them. He only saw betrayal.

‘I was so lost in my own anger and jealousy, I went straight to my father.’

‘You didn’t confront them?’

‘No. I’m not sure they even knew I was there until later.

My father was furious. He stormed out to the barn and caught them, dragging Liza back to the house and forcing a footman to escort Philippa home.

He’d never hit Liza before that day, but he was determined to beat the devil out of her.

That’s what he told her as he thrashed her to ribbons. ’

‘Oh, God.’

Warm droplets were tracking down his cheek as he remembered Liza’s horrified screams. ‘He locked her in her room then went to Philippa’s father and told him what happened.

Both men determined it was time to find husbands for their daughters.

And Father didn’t waste a moment. Within the week, he informed Liza a marriage had been arranged between her and one of his friends, a man whose first two wives died, one from scarlet fever, the other in childbirth. ’

‘No! How could he marry his daughter to one of his friends?’

‘Because he wanted to punish her. But Liza refused. She told him she wouldn’t speak the vows, and if the man married her anyway, she would run away.

Father never took well to threats. He told her she would either marry his friend or be committed to a sanatorium.

Her mind was unwell. Why else would she pursue an unnatural relationship with Philippa?

At least, that is what Father thought. He determined she would either cure herself by marrying, or he would cure her by sending her to bedlam. ’

Ivy tightened her grip around her legs and shook her head. ‘Are all fathers so cruel, or just ours?’

A weight Edward didn’t realise he’d been carrying cracked. With such a simple question, Ivy managed the impossible. She made Edward feel validated. Understood. Like he wasn’t alone. Like mayhap this wasn’t all his fault.

She continued before he could answer her question. Which was fortunate as he had no answer to give. ‘Poor Liza. And poor Philippa. What happened?’

Edward wished he could forget. He had never told anyone of the last night he saw Liza. Not even Philippa. But the words spilled from him like hot, sticky tar.

‘I waited until the house was quiet and I snuck into her room. She was sitting at her desk writing a letter. To Philippa, I presume, but it felt like an intrusion to ask. I’ll never forget that conversation.’

The years disappeared and while he stared at a stain on the floor, he saw his sister with her chestnut hair tied in a loose braid, her eyes haunted, her hand holding a quill. The lamplight flickered.

‘What’s done is done, Edward. My fate is sealed.’ Liza’s voice was too calm, her eyes devoid of their mischievous spark.

‘I did not mean for him to send you away. You must know. I wasn’t thinking.

We can still get you out. I’ve sent word to Philippa.

We’ll sneak you through the servants’ hall and out the kitchen.

She is to meet you in the western woods.

You can flee from there together.’ When at first it pained him to think of Philippa with anyone else, now he would happily suffer such heartbreak to save his sister from the hell their father planned.