Page 24

N athaniel stood at the bottom of the stairs, aware that he had to look like a disapproving father waiting for his daughter. Still, this could not go on.

He’d been fully resolved to let her do as she pleased, but then he’d heard the giggles coming from the drawing room, where she and Halston had taken tea. He had appeared from the adjacent room, unable to contain his curiosity.

Halston had leaned back, one hand resting on the back of Evelyn’s chair. “I still think we’re already far more than mere acquaintances.” And she had appeared relaxed. Relaxed the way he hadn’t seen her in a very long time—if ever.

She was enjoying his company, and it was tearing his stomach to shreds. Even now, as he thought of it, bile pushed up the back of his throat before he had to force it down.

The bitter echo of the bile remained in his mouth as he ground his teeth.

They had shared tea and sweetmeats, and then she had walked him out to the carriage.

As they had walked out of the room, he had stepped to the window and glanced out.

The way he had bowed and kissed her hand again, the way she had smiled at him, had eaten away at him.

She was going to invite him back, wasn’t she?

Halston was going to be in his home again.

And then he would have to see him. He certainly would have to see him then.

And what if she fell for him? What if she couldn’t see through the prominent facade? What if she were too desperate and chose to ignore it, even if she could see it?

He took a deep breath and rose when the front door opened again, and she stepped through. He waved his hand, dismissing the butler.

“Not him,” he said, the words flying out of his mouth as if they had been dancing on the tip of his tongue and had made the eager leap at the moment they could.

“I beg your pardon?” she said.

“I said not him. Not Halston.”

“Why not?” she said, her tone bemused as she dipped her head to one side, looking at him as though he were a curiosity at the menagerie.

“Because he is not a good man.”

She let out an annoyed sigh and took a few steps toward him.

“Have you lost your mind, Nathaniel? You have pushed me and pushed me to find somebody I can tolerate for weeks now, and finally, I have done as you asked. I have found someone who does not bore me to tears, who is wealthy enough to not care about my meager income, and whose company I can stand for longer than five minutes without having to fight the desire to push him into a pond or remove myself from him in some other way.”

It burned in his chest, not at her. At what, he didn’t quite understand, but it was there, burning a hole in his heart.

She had done what he asked. It was true. There was no reason for him to be angry at her. He was angry at the situation.

“Not Halston, he?—”

“Why not?” she demanded. “You cannot stand there and tell me what to do and what not to do without giving me a reason. Tell me why.”

“I know men,” he said. “And he will make you miserable. I know it.”

“Exactly what about him is going to make me miserable? His handsome visage? His riches? His ability to understand my humor without thinking the worst of me?”

“I understand your humor,” he said, then bit his bottom lip. He understood what had come out was not at all what he intended.

“I did not mean you,” she said. “I meant the other parade of chawbacons you have brought into this house. I can tolerate Halston. In fact, I have already agreed to see him again. We are going dancing at Almack’s.”

“You are not?—”

“I assure you, I am. Unless you tell me the true reason why. Why should I discard the first man I have anything in common with?”

It was like another slap. He knew she didn’t mean that the two of them had nothing in common.

But then again, the two of them were… nothing.

They were nothing to each other. Nothing but two people who had been thrown together by circumstance.

He couldn’t bring himself to let her continue with Halston.

“Is it because the two of you knew each other in school?”

His stomach dropped. “He told you that?”

“Indeed, he did. He called you…” She dipped her index finger against her chin. “Meek? No… scrawny? Yes. High and mighty, he said. And then a picture of misery. He said he tried to be your friend, but you rejected?—”

He laughed out loud now. “Try to be my friend? He was a terror. He tormented me day and night when we were in school together. He was two years older than I and should have known better. Should’ve been better.

But no. He was envious at first when he found out I was heir to the Dukedom, and when I no longer was, he took the opportunity to ridicule me at every turn.

He turned the entire dorm we shared against me.

I hadn’t a single friend, all due to him.

Everyone pitied me, saw me as beneath their notice, simply because of him. ”

She paled and took a step back. “He did that?”

“Yes. Every time I made a friend, he would get in between and tell them terrible lies about me. He would steal things and store them underneath my pillow to make me look like a thief. He would delight every time I came back from the headmaster’s office with red marks on my hands where they had slapped me with a ruler for stealing.

He would steal letters from my mother and read them to the entire crowd.

He would take gifts I had been sent from my family and destroy them—tear apart my books, spill ink on my clothing.

” As he spoke, his hands curled into fists. “He is a horrible weasel.”

“Nathaniel, I had no idea,” she said, looking genuinely crestfallen. “I am certain he must be most upset that you are a duke now.”

“Of course he is. He will never rise to the position I have now. He knows that now I have the power and he does not. I am wealthier, more influential, and higher-ranking than he can ever hope to be. If I could, I would buy out his interest in most of his businesses. I could push him out if I wanted to. I could have him banned from gentlemen’s clubs all around London with just a snap of my fingers, because I am the Duke of Sinclair. ”

She stared at him, blinking but not speaking. He hadn’t realized how enraged he had been and how the words had spilled out of his mouth so rapidly. He would’ve sensed it himself had he had a moment to think, but everything came out as quickly as water from the watering can.

“Why don’t you?” she asked, her voice softer. “Why not take your revenge? You ought to. I will help you. I will tell everybody what?—”

“No,” he said. “I would rather not relive my shame.”

“It is not your shame. It is his. He mistreated you when you were a child. He would deserve it. He deserves that everybody knows what he is.”

“Many do,” he said. “Why do you think he has to—why do you think he has to travel to the Continent for business? Because many in England know what he is like. His boyhood pranks and actions do not translate well into adulthood, and he has never changed. He is the same nasty little weasel he has always been. But people are wiser as they grow older. Many of his former friends no longer want to associate with him, and even those who still do will change their minds if they’re reminded of our shared past.”

She wet her lips, and then her eyes widened. “Do you think he sought me out because of our connection?”

“Of course,” he said. “I think—” He was snorting. “Of course he did. What other reason could there be?” The moment he said that, he knew the words had come out wrong.

“I didn’t mean that. I meant…”

“I know what you meant,” she said, but her tone had grown colder. “The only reason he could have wanted to be with me was to make you miserable because I am certain that he would’ve gladly thrown away his entire future just to get one last stab at you. But why? How would his marrying me harm you?”

Oh, it was a double-sided question. He knew that. What did she want him to say? That it would’ve hurt him because he cared for her? Should he just tell her? He couldn’t be certain.

“He will exploit any connection between you and me, no matter how inconsequential it might be,” he said, taking a step back.

He had exposed himself too much. He had let her see his weakness.

All this time, he had been so careful to present himself as strong, capable, and respected.

And he was all these things now—he knew it.

He would never let anybody see the torment he had undergone at the hands of Halston.

He had sworn it. He would use every bit of his newfound influence to ensure he never felt weak again.

And yet something in her—something in the way she looked at him—had made him open up his deepest secrets.

He had let her see the weak part of him he had sought to keep hidden forever.

It wasn’t going to do any good. Even if she had any feelings for him whatsoever that were rooted in anything genuine, they would surely be evaporating now.

Who wanted a weak link for a husband? No—he had to push her away.

But he also couldn’t let her be with this man, because he would exploit her and mistreat her—that he knew.

“He is a rake. It is well known. He will use you. He will keep a carte blanche everywhere he goes. He will make you miserable.”

She only nodded.

“Well, then I thank you for shedding light on his true personality, and I will take heed not to let him exploit the thin thread of connection you and I share,” she said. Then she turned and walked away. He had hurt her. He hadn’t meant to, but he had.

Why was he so bad with his words? She walked past him, and as she did, her shoulder ran into his. Would this be the last time they touched in any way?

“Excuse me,” she said.

“You are excused,” he replied.

At the top of the stairs, she turned again. “Well, since you do not want me to court Halston, does that mean you will find me somebody else? Somebody not dreadful?”

“I will host a ball, as I said. I will invite anyone—anyone I can think of. I told you already.”

“Yes, you said that. But you say things sometimes.” She shrugged. “And then they turn out… the words turn out to be meaningless.”

He opened his mouth, wanting to reply—to defend himself—but he didn’t have the words anymore.

It was as though they were all used up. As if every single word he was allocated for this day had been wasted on telling her about his childhood.

And now as she stood there and looked at him in that challenging way of hers that always made him feel a prickle go up and down his arms, he had nothing left to say—and perhaps that was for the best. He had to find her a husband, and quickly.

He had to get her out of his house and out of his life.

Now more than ever.