Her smile was cold as he sifted through every possible connection between the duchess’s family and Estella’s. There were none. Not that he knew of, at least, and he was far more knowledgeable about Estella’s family connections than any could guess.
"Why?" he asked again when she continued to merely smile.
"My reasons are my own. They need not concern you."
Sebastian waited. A “but” was coming, if he could withstand the silence. And sure enough?—
"But I need you," the duchess finally said.
He frowned. "To do what?"
"To step out of the shadows." She met his gaze squarely. "You've been her invisible guardian for two years. I need you to be her visible one. Andrew's oldest friend, stepping in where her father cannot. Escort her. Be seen with her. Make it clear to every fortune hunter and drawing room predator in London that Miss Hale is under the protection of the Marquess of Blackwood."
I can’t, he wanted to say. But he could. They both knew he could.
I won’t. But who was he fooling? He would. He’d do anything for her happiness.
I don’t want to. Now that was the veriest lie, and he had no doubt the duchess would say so if he were foolish enough to say it aloud.
Which left only one excuse. A true and reasonable one, at that.
"She's afraid of me." The words came out rough. But he could still well remember the way those violet eyes had widened when he’d caught her. In surprise, at first, but then…
Her gaze had caught on his scars. Her whole body had gone rigid.
But the worst part was the recognition. She’d known precisely who he was, and rather than put her at ease, it had made her more fearful.
"Mmm," the duchess murmured her agreement. "She likely is. Because you've given her every reason to be. Two years of silence and a look tonight that could have frozen the Thames. But I'd rather she be afraid of you than charmed by the next Mr. Fairchild who takes an interest in her dowry."
Her dowry. The dowry that Sebastian had quietly ensured remained intact, funding it through channels so circuitous that even his own solicitor had raised an eyebrow.
"Her father—" he began.
"Is in the card room losing money he doesn't have," the duchess said. There was an edge beneath her composure that made her tone sharp. "I suspect you know that better than anyone, given that you've been paying his debts."
Sebastian said nothing.
"I'm not asking for your coin, Lord Blackwood. I have plenty of my own. I'm asking for your presence." She paused. "Andrew Hale was your closest friend. It's the most natural thing in the world for you to take an interest in his sister's welfare. The ton will respect it. Miss Hale will understand it."
Uncertainty was not an emotion he was accustomed to. He prided himself on being decisive. There was black and white. Good and bad. Right and wrong.
But this…
To look after Estella was good and right. But to get close…
To let himself so close to temptation and trust that he’d be selfless enough to keep his distance…
A knot lodged in his chest, and his gut twisted with indecision. Everything in him wanted to latch onto the excuse to get close, to stay near. But reason and conscience would not be denied.
"I’m trusting you to keep her safe when I cannot," the duchess added.
And that, apparently, was everything his reasoning mind needed to hear. He felt some part of himself gobble up the words, all too eager to believe them.
Yes, he could keep her safe. He could be close and still walk away when she made a match. Of course he could, because it would be for her benefit. He could withstand any pain if it was for her good.
The duchess’s lips curved up in a smug little smile. She knew she had him.
"Tell me why," he said.
