“What’s your courtesy title?”
“Earl of Tewksbury.”
She released a sound that wasn’t quite a laugh or scoff, but something in between that seemed to have a sad ring to it. “You’re an earl.”
“Apparently so.”
“To inherit a dukedom.”
He didn’t quite understand her forlorn expression or the manner in which she looked past him as though striving to see into the future. He had to admit it was unsettling to be stepping into something he barely knew, butshe was intimately familiar with that world and could help guide him.
Grazing his finger from her temple to her chin, he nudged her face back into his direction, captured and held her gaze. “On my arm, you’ll be returning to Society.”
A small pleat appeared between her brows. Using his thumb, he gently smoothed it out.
“How does all that happen?” she asked. “Do they just take out an advert in theTimes?”
“The duke and I will be visiting with his solicitor tomorrow, to determine what all has to be done to ensure I am recognized as his heir and inherit. I’ll have dinner with them tomorrow evening. Join me. I’d like to introduce you. Let you come to know them, them to know you. I think you’re going to like them. I know they’ll adore you.”
A sweet blush dusted up her throat and over her cheeks, giving him cause to regret all the nights he’d had her in the dark and all the blushes he’d missed.
“It’s too soon, don’t you think? Your relationship with them needs to be on a more solid footing before you begin introducing surprises. You have no history together to have formed a foundation that can sustain the trials and tribulations that family members encounter. No memories of the better times to help you get through the worst.”
He comprehended the wisdom of her words, of what she was explaining. He wanted to love Ewan and Mara Campbell, did love them because they were responsible for his existence, but his family remained the Trewloves. His letter had been L. He’d painted it in red. The first letter oflove. Suddenly, it seemed significant. A letter tying him to a name, to a family, to an emotion.
They’d done it for Robin, but it was still part of him. He was still part of them.
Turning onto his side, facing her, he threaded his fingersthrough her hair. “Surely, you don’t think you fall into the category of worst?”
“I think you don’t yet know how they’ll react to you marrying a woman whose father was a traitor. At Christmas, you knew your siblings would accept me because you had a history with them, knew how they had handled other situations. Did you tell your parents about me?”
He pressed a kiss to her forehead, avoiding her gaze. “The moment never seemed right. God, Thea, I don’t know why I didn’t. You’re the first thing I should have mentioned.”
Cradling his jaw, she pulled back and held his gaze. “I suspect right now you’re all treading very lightly as you come to know each other.”
She had the right of that. They still had so much to learn about each other. It wasn’t enough to share the stories. He had fewer than a dozen hours of memories with them.
Tonight had involved a few awkward moments of silence as they’d searched for stories to be shared, as he’d mined his memories for the kinder, gentler ones that wouldn’t leave them feeling guilty.
“Another time, then,” he said, and felt her go lax in his arms, hadn’t realized how tense she’d been. Was she dreading meeting them, learning their opinion of her? If they didn’t accept her, he’d be unable to accept them. He needed to pave the way, so it wouldn’t be difficult for her. He also knew none of the past would matter if his parents weren’t part of the aristocracy. Perhaps, more than anything, that was what Thea was striving to make him understand. So much more mattered now.
He skimmed his fingers over her bare shoulder. “I don’t know how to do it, Thea. How to be a lord.”
She offered him a small smile. “For one thing, you’re going to have to become a great deal more arrogant.”
He returned her smile in equal measure. “Will you still fancy me if I’m arrogant?”
“I will fancy you however you are.”
Yet, he was left with the distinct impression that something had shifted between them, and not necessarily for the good.
Chapter 26
Sitting in the library, having poured her own sherry, listening as the mantelpiece clock ticked away, Althea glanced over at it to see that only a minute had passed since she’d last looked. It was nearing the hour of ten, and Benedict had yet to return since leaving that morning.
He might not know how to be a lord but certainly knew how to dress like one. She didn’t know where he’d acquired the fine clothing—not the evening wear he’d worn for Christmas—but jacket, trousers, and waistcoat almost as posh. Possibly what he wore when meeting with the merchants or anytime he represented his shipping business. But he had most certainly given the impression of being a man comfortable in his own skin, a man who knew what he was about. A man upon whose shoulders a dukedom could securely rest.
She was relatively certain his parents would have been pleased by his appearance, by the knowledge their son displayed such confidence. The solicitor wouldn’t doubt his place among the aristocracy.
