“I am cleverer.” Bella straightened her back. “And more clearheaded than the girl you used to know.”
For a long silent moment neither of them spoke, giving her another opportunity to study him. He was still the most handsome man she’d ever seen. There were lines at the corner of his eyes, a few curving at the edges of his mouth, but they only made him look more dashing. Laugh lines, of course. No one enjoyed frivolity more than Rhys Forester.
No, he was Claremont now. Perhaps it was time to let the past go. Time to let go of the anger and hurt she’d held on to for so long.
They could never be friends again. She would always remember how much she wanted more. He still affected her too much. But it felt right to make peace.
“I forgive you.” Once they were out, the words loosened something in her. As if they weren’t simply words but a key that dissolved the pain and uncertainty she’d harbored.
They seemed to free him too. He let out a relieved breath and smiled. Not one of his dashing meant-to-charm smiles, but the genuine one. A bit crooked and imperfect, with no pretense.
He was far too appealing. He always had been.
Best she ended this unexpected visit and put the Duke of Claremont out of her mind.
“I fear we must stop our game. We have guests, but I appreciate your visit.” Returning to the drawing room and attempting charm among strangers was not what she wanted, but it was what she’d promised to do.
They had nothing left to offer each other. The favor she’d thought of asking him was silly, and would only prolong a connection it was wiser to sever.
All the warmth drained from Rhys’s expression. “This wasn’t merely a social call, Bella. It’s ten in the evening and I wasn’t invited to your party.”
She’d been so overwhelmed by the sight of him that the oddness of him bursting into a house party unannounced hadn’t yet crossed her mind. Earlier she’d asked him why he’d returned to Essex, and he hadn’t even answered that question directly.
“I need your help.”
Her heartbeat had steadied the moment she’d forgiven him, but it thudded faster now.
Her silence prompted him to step closer. “Is it selfish of me to come after all this time and ask that of you?”
When she took a breath to answer emphatically yes, he lifted a finger and held it hovering over her lips.
“Don’t answer that. I know it is, but there’s no one else I trust.”
Every word he said was true. Bella could see it in his furrowed-brow expression, hear the earnestness in his voice. He wasn’t employing any of his usual charm. She sensed there wouldn’t be any jokes or clever quips to undercut his statement.
“Surely there is someone else,” she said, and couldn’t help glancing down at where he still held his finger dangerously close to her lips, “for whatever reason you require assistance.”
The man was a duke with servants at his beck and call, ladies prepared to swoon at his feet, and gentlemen eager to curry favor.
“No one like you.” His voice had gone low, not much above a whisper. “You know who I am. My failings and flaws. Many of which are your strengths. Mathematics, for instance.”
Bella frowned.
“And London Seasons,” he added, then finally moved his hand away to begin ticking off items. “Ordering gowns, negotiating with haberdashers, hats, shoes, who knows what else. That is precisely the point. I have no notion of what Meg needs. You do.”
Mention of his sister made Bella smile. In cutting off her friendship with Rhys, she’d missed any connection to his sister too.
“I would be happy to meet with Lady Margaret. She could visit me at Hillcrest if she’s in residence at Edgecombe.”
Now it was Rhys’s turn to frown. “But it’s more than Meg.” He pressed a hand to his chest. “I need you. You know I can’t read or juggle numbers worth a damn and—”
“That’s not true. You’re better than you think you are.” The instinct to reassure him came without thought or intention. An old habit, yet she still found the words to be utterly sincere. He’d never seen himself as she saw him, never understood the man he could be.
“You still believe that after all this time?”
“Unless you’ve changed significantly in the last five years, I probably do.”
“I appreciate the sentiment, but I still need your aid. The ledgers at Edgecombe, Bella. They’re a nightmare. I can’t make heads or tails of them and I must. There’s been theft or perhaps simple mismanagement. I’m not certain. Nothing is certain.” After his rushed ramble, he shoved a hand through his golden waves. He looked as exhausted as she’d ever seen him. “If you’d just examine them and speak to Meg. I’ve nothing to offer in return. You’d have my gratitude, but you’ve had that since the day we met.”
The desire to help him was almost as compelling as a need. But that was exactly why she couldn’t. A few minutes in his presence and tender, foolish feelings were already there, waiting to resurface and shatter all her resolve.
Perhaps they would always be there.
“What was it you wished to ask of me?” he said softly. “Name it, and I’ll agree.”
No, she couldn’t continue this. It was too much like picking at a wound that had finally healed over.
“Please tell Meg to call. Despite the house party, I would welcome her any day.” She took a deep breath before saying the rest. “Beyond advising her, I cannot help you.”
He closed his eyes a moment, pursed his lips, and then began to nod. “I understand. You owe me nothing, but I’ve always been a selfish man, haven’t I?”
“I never thought so.”
That little smile came again, tip-tilted and charming. “You thought too highly of me.”
“Yes.”
“But not anymore?”
“It’s not that.” What was the point of explaining feelings that no longer mattered? “I’m sorry, but I must return to our guests.”
He nodded and worked his jaw, then it was as if a breeze swept the clouds aside on a sunny day. He smiled, but it was the false one. The beautiful beaming facade. “I’m a selfish bastard, and I’ve kept you too long.” He reached for her hand.
Bella bit back a gasp at the contact. His hands were bare. Hers too. And his skin was warm.
“I bid you good evening, Miss Prescott.”
“Good-bye, Your Grace.”
He let her go and moved past her toward the door. Bella didn’t turn, didn’t breathe, as she waited for him to depart. Then his footsteps stopped.
“What was the favor?” he called from behind her.
Bella turned to face him. “It was nothing. Nonsense.”
In a flash of rebelliousness, she’d thought to invite him to the dance and dinner her parents had planned for tomorrow night. Her birthday fete. But the impulse had been pure mischief. For a moment, she’d wondered if a single waltz with the infamous Duke of Claremont might convince the men her mother had invited to abandon their pursuit.
“I’d be more than happy to exchange favors, Bella.” His smile was wicked, unlike any he’d ever offered her before. “If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”