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“ Y ou said what to her?” Julian exclaimed the next week as they took their drinks together.

“You heard me,” Nathaniel replied coolly.

“You truly mean to push her away—as hard and as far as possible?” Julian shook his head. “It’s as though you were forced to marry your wicked aunt. You act as though she were a dreadful mother-in-law, not your wife.”

“I did not want her to be my wife,” Nathaniel muttered. “I would’ve rather kept her as a wicked aunt-in-law.”

“What has happened?” Julian asked, perplexed. “I am utterly confused. I know the two of you have always quarreled, but it was good-natured, almost flirtatious. I was certain that, eventually, you’d find your way to each other.”

“Well, we have not. And we shall not. We have not spoken since that night.”

“You mean beyond wishing each other a good day and discussing matters of the house?—?”

“No,” Nathaniel said sharply, draining the last of his whiskey.

He banged the glass down and snapped his fingers for the waiter.

“We have not spoken at all. We avoid one another. I noticed her lingering in the doorway of the parlor the other day while I was finishing breakfast. She was waiting for me to leave.”

“Is she afraid of you?” Julian asked, eyes narrowing.

Nathaniel laughed bitterly. “I would wager Evelyn fears no man. Certainly not me. No, she simply did not wish to speak to me. For which I am grateful. The less we see of one another, the better.”

“What has happened to you?” Julian leaned forward. “You are bitter—and not the entertaining sort—when you go on some droll tangent filled with witticisms. No, this is the sort of bitter that drives a man to drown his sorrows not just in his cups, but in entire barrels.”

“I’m not bitter, Julian,” Nathaniel sighed. “I’m exasperated. It seems I am destined to do and be exactly what my uncle always said.”

“Which is?”

“He always said I would do everything wrong and be a failure as a duke. Well, he never said it to me, but I overheard him tell my stepfather once.”

Julian folded his arms. “Do you not think perhaps you are fulfilling that prophecy by acting this way? Have you even tried to speak with her? To simply sit with her and discover what has gone?—”

“What has gone wrong,” Nathaniel interrupted, “is that I did not do as I said I would. I said I would find her a husband. I let her play games for so long, and now all the pieces have been taken off the chessboard—until I was the only one left.”

“That’s not entirely true,” Julian replied. “Did you not tell me the reason you had to marry her was because my cousin found the two of you nearly kissing in your study?”

Nathaniel leaned back, rubbing his temples. “Yes, yes. But that never would’ve happened had I simply done what I said—found her a husband. Sent her back to her father. Done anything differently.”

Julian paused. “Nathaniel… do you love her?”

Nathaniel nearly choked on his fresh whiskey. “Have you listened to anything I’ve said?”

“I have. But it seems I’m the only one who’s heard what you meant.” Julian’s voice dropped. “Your feelings for your wife are quite clear. Only your stubbornness keeps you from admitting them.”

“Don’t be foolish. Besides, she has made it clear she needs no husband. She’s been toiling away at the dower house for days now with her aunt and sisters, working on that society of hers.”

“Yes, I’ve heard of it,” Julian said. “A society to bring together ladies interested in effecting change. Annabelle is rather keen on joining.”

“I don’t even understand what all the foolishness is,” Nathaniel said, scowling. “All I know is she’s commandeered my footmen to carry furniture back and forth for purposes beyond my understanding.”

“According to Annabelle, they are redecorating the dower house to make it a welcoming space for women to discuss their causes. It sounds quite a worthy endeavor.”

Nathaniel looked up. He had assumed Evelyn was planning some half-thought-out ladies’ luncheon or other frivolous activity.

But that wasn’t fair to her. Evelyn was not frivolous. She was sharp, intelligent, and possessed eyes that saw the world more clearly than most. It was part of what had drawn him to her in the first place.

“I see,” he said instead, taking another long drink.

“Perhaps you ought to ask her about it,” Julian said. “You might be able to help.”

“She doesn’t want my help. She made that quite clear. Our marriage is on paper only. She may use the title all she likes—may it bring her much success in her endeavors.”

“I think she’d rather like to have you at her side.”

“Julian,” Nathaniel gasped, exasperated. “Must you twist every word I utter to suit your meaning? She and I are nothing to one another. We never were, and we never shall be.”

Then why were his eyes wet?

He rubbed at them furiously and looked toward the waiter. “Can you not shut the kitchen door? The stench of onions is intolerable.”

“Of course, Your Grace,” the waiter replied, hastening to shut a door that, in fact, did not lead to the kitchen at all.

“There is no onion,” Julian said dryly.

“Quite right,” Nathaniel muttered.

“Yes, well. The onion is truly rather unpleasant,” Julian declared loudly. He rubbed his eyes in solidarity, though his were as dry as the Sahara.

“I worry for you, my friend,” he said more quietly. “You are not yourself. Perhaps it’s time you reflected on what your uncle’s upheaval truly cost you. I’ve never known you to be so very…” he waved a finger vaguely, “peculiar.”

Nathaniel leaned back and sighed. “Even if I wished to speak to Evelyn, she has no desire to speak to me. She thinks I’m still the rake I once was in Scotland.”

Julian raised his brows. “I didn’t know she knew about your past. Have you told her? Weren’t you planning to reform?”

He scoffed. He had told Julian that he wished to change, especially after his disastrous attempt to woo an heiress at a club. But the truth was, he hadn’t wanted any other woman since Evelyn. Anytime he came close to another, all he saw was her face.

It had happened again at the club a week ago. And he hadn’t been able to admit it to her then.

“I indeed had no interest in other women because I was attempting to change,” he said, though it wasn’t entirely accurate.

“But she never asked. And at first, we couldn’t stand each other.

When we finally made an alliance, it didn’t matter.

I thought I was finding her a husband. My reputation helped. ”

“But something changed.”

He shrugged. “Last week, when we came back from the club, she was still awake. She saw me in my disheveled state and assumed another woman was the cause.”

“But you corrected her,” Julian said. “Told her it was because we had an altercation—because Lord Michael was cheating at billiards?”

Nathaniel paused. Then shook his head. “I let her believe it.”

“Why?” Julian’s voice was sharp with disbelief.

“I told you. I want her to stay away. And if she thinks I’m a horrible rake, it’s more likely she will.”

“But that’s not what you want,” Julian said quietly. It wasn’t a question—it was a truth. And Nathaniel knew it.

The truth was, ever since he’d been reminded of his childhood by Lord Halston, he hadn’t been able to see himself clearly. His uncle’s words—cutting, cruel—rang in his ears still.

She had said he suited the title of Duke better than she expected, but now he felt like a child drowning in clothes meant for a man.

He hated these insecurities. They should have been buried in his past. And yet, here they were—wreaking havoc in his life.

No, he could never give Evelyn a proper place at his side. He could never be the kind of man to make her happy.

But at least he had saved her from ruin.

At least he had given her a title.

And if it cost him his peace—well, perhaps that was simply the price he was meant to pay. For a man like him could never hope to keep a woman like Evelyn—not truly. No matter how much Julian tried to deny it.

Nathaniel knew it was true.