“Even if the sitter remains unconvinced, it’s impossible to prove a fraud. There’s virtually no risk.”
Helen seemed happy, but Alex couldn’t help but wonder what she was afraid of. He was incapable of ignoring the situation until she came to him, but taking her aside now would be far too obvious. He forced himself to wait until the end of the evening when everyone was saying good night.
“Helen, a moment.” He drew her back into the drawing room.
She stood by the fire, arms crossed over her middle, brows raised. “You’re about to ask me what I’m afraid of, aren’t you?”
He winced. So much for subtlety. But then subtlety was never a family strength. “And you’re probably going to say it’s none of my business, but I’ve always supposed you were fearless, so you’ll have to forgive my curiosity.”
“As Evie said, no one is fearless.” He waited. “Oh, very well. It’s not even my fear, really. It’s… Have you never wondered why Will and I don’t have children?”
Of course he had, but after six years of childless marriage, he’d naturally assumed they couldn’t and that he’d be trespassing on painful territory if he brought the subject up.
“It isn’t because we can’t. I assume we can. But there are ways to prevent conception, and as a doctor, Will knows more about that than most. You see, his first wife died in childbed and he didn’t want to risk my health. I was happy enough with that at first. After ten years at Blackwell, I had no desire to rush to motherhood, but now…I’m thirty-two. Now is the time.”
“Is Carter being difficult?”
She glared at him. “Don’t be ridiculous. Will’s practically a saint. He wants me to do what makes me happy. But sometimes, when he doesn’t think I’m paying attention, I catch him looking at me and the expression on his face is so…wistful. He’s terrified, and even though I’ll probably be fine, what if I’m not? I couldn’t bear to put him through that loss again.”
Alex was completely out of his depth and he must have looked it because Helen burst out laughing. “Don’t worry. Will and I are old hands at this marriage business and we’re going to be fine. We’re going to try for a baby. I only wish life offered guarantees.” Her smile faded. “It’s you I’m concerned about.”
“Me?” It had never occurred to him that Helen would worry about him. “Why on earth are you concerned about me?”
“Ever since I met you, I’ve known you aren’t happy.”
“I do all right.” But he couldn’t quite meet her gaze.
“You seem different when you’re with Evie. There’s light in your eyes because of her. I see you struggling to rectify our father’s mistakes, trying to save the lands and houses. He’s the one who really lost everything, Alex. You’re about to throw away your chance of happiness because of him and that… That infuriates me. He’s done enough to both of us, don’t you think? We mustn’t allow him to go on ruining our lives from beyond the grave.”
“You’re right. He’s the one who ran the estates into the ground. Whether through neglect or malice, this is his fault. But it doesn’t matter. I’m Harcastle now. His mistakes are mine. As are his duties. People, innocent people, would suffer if I neglected my responsibilities.”
“Perhaps,” she said. “But I don’t think you’ve tried hard enough to think your way out. Why is that, do you think?”
“I don’t know what you mean.” In any case, he had no business “thinking his way out.” He was the duke. No one else could take up that burden for him.
“You think you don’t deserve to be happy, that’s what I mean.”
“Bollocks.”
“Now you sound like Will.” She straightened his tie, a curiously maternal gesture. “I’m tired and I want my husband, but do something for me? At least consider the possibility that you might deserve to spend your life with Evie. Consider also what Evie deserves. The Harcastle chain is heavy and I for one think it’s time you cast it off.”
Alex lingered in the drawing room after his talk with Helen. The storm waned, though the wind still whistled down the chimney, making the flames dance in the grate. Unlike most gentlemen, he couldn’t sit back in an easy chair with a brandy, so he had to content himself with his thoughts and those proved most unsatisfactory company.
His dutiful attempt at fulfilling his role as titular head of the family had resulted, as was so often the case, in a lecture from his younger sister. Helen was adept at seeing to the root of a problem, but she was wrong this time. She said he was throwing happiness away, but she might as well say he was throwing Evie away. And that was balderdash. Evie was the one insisting she had to leave. What could he do that he hadn’t done or offered to do?
An answer was not forthcoming, no matter how intently he stared into the flames.
…
It was past eleven by the time Alex finally headed upstairs.
He found Evie sitting on a rug in front of the fire in her nightgown, her slim legs tucked to one side. Her hair was loose for once and hung about her shoulders in a dark cloud. A series of cards lay spread out on the floor and she was studying them with a frown.
He closed the door behind him. “What do they say?”
She looked up and stared at him for several seconds. “What do you mean?”
“The cards. What does the future hold?”
She smiled. “I wouldn’t know. I’m only playing Patience.”
He went a bit nearer and saw that indeed the cards were ordinary playing cards set out in the appropriate formation. “Oh.”
With a careless sweep of her hand, she scattered them and rose to her feet. There was something in her expression. An…intent. Her hair was wavy from being pinned so severely, unruly once it escaped its confinement. Much like her. A lock curled over one shoulder and he reached out without thinking. It was soft and silky against his fingers. Cool to the touch.
He remembered when he first saw her, how obsessed he’d been. Such a prim and proper exterior yet he’d known in his bones how wild she’d be when he bedded her. He wanted her again, wanted her every moment he was with her, and he saw that same yearning in her. The air crackled with tension.
He had to force himself to let go of that single lock of hair. Even that small connection was too much if he wanted to say the things he’d left unsaid this morning. Her refusal had sounded final. He ought to respect it, had intended to, but he couldn’t. Not yet.
“We need to talk about—”
She kissed him. Kissed him as she had never kissed him, pulling him down by the lapels of his suit, sliding her arms around him, pressing her body against his. Even as he recognized a deliberate attempt to silence him, her mouth on his, firm and unyielding, hot and demanding, acted like a drug. Silvery mist obscured his thoughts as her tongue stroked his. When she finally broke the kiss, he stood there stunned and blinking.