Her lips parted as the memories came back one after another, ending with the emotion in his eyes the night before when he'd shown up at a gaming hell. He looked as though she'd scared him to death with her reckless actions.
And then she thought of the musicale. Of that look that had tormented her for days on end. She had a word for that look now. Longing.
It had been brief and cut off far too quickly, but she knew without a doubt that he'd looked at her with longing.
The duchess watched Estella’s expression change and a hint of a smile tugged at her lips. "Now tell me. Do you believe those were the actions of a man performing a duty?"
She'd felt this same flicker of hope before, on the terrace, right before he'd shut her down. She wasn't sure she could survive having it snuffed out twice. "But he said?—"
"Yes, yes. He said it was guilt, and obligation, and mutually beneficial arrangements, and all manner of rubbish that sounded very noble and proper." The duchess's voice held a thread of something fierce. "But the man who came to me and agreed to upend his entire life for your Season did not do so because of guilt." The duchess’s head tilted to the side as if she was reconsidering. "At least…not entirely."
Estella frowned at that. "Not entirely," she echoed. "But it did play a part."
The duchess’s expression softened. "Estella, you may be too young to understand this. But the heart is a complicated organ. Not every motive is so clean-cut as we’d like to imagine."
Estella fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve. That did not sit well. "So you think he is motivated by guilt?"
When the duchess didn't immediately answer, Thea stirred in her seat.
"If I may," she started. "From a purely logical standpoint."
The duchess waved a hand. "By all means."
"The first hypothesis," Thea said, pushing her spectacles up, "is that Lord Blackwood's stated motivations—guilt and obligation—are accurate, and his actions are consistent with those motivations. The alternative hypothesis is that his stated motivations are false, and his actions reveal his true feelings."
Estella stared at her. "Pardon?"
"Everything is an experiment if you look at it correctly." Thea's eyes were bright. "And the beautiful thing about hypotheses is that they can be tested. If his actions are truly driven by guilt, then they should remain constant regardless of external stimulus. For example, a guilty man doesn't get jealous. Nor does the guilty man kiss his ward like—" She stopped. Cleared her throat. "Well, like how you said he did."
"So what are you suggesting?" Estella asked.
"Test it." Thea said it simply, as if it was obvious. "To Her Grace’s point, you've been accepting his version of events on his word alone. What if instead, you presented him with situations designed to provoke a response? If he truly feels nothing beyond duty, his behavior won't change. But if he feels something more…" Thea smiled. "The result will speak for itself."
The duchess was watching Thea with what appeared to be a mix of amusement and admiration. "You have a devious mind, Miss Evermore."
"On the contrary, I have a scientific mind." Thea paused. "Any deviousness is merely a by-product."
The duchess made a choking sound as she reached for her teacup. Estella suspected it was laughter.
Estella looked between the two of them. She wanted him to care. She could admit that much to herself. She’d wanted it that night on the terrace.
It was that hope that had made her lose her wits and kiss him. She’d wanted it rather desperately, and there was no use denying it.
Estella liked Lord Blackwood. The word “like” had never felt so tepid. She liked the way he looked at her. She’d never felt so seen in her life as she did when the marquess had his eyes on her. She adored the way his lips twitched when she amused him, and the way he commanded a room with his presence.
She had to admit, she even enjoyed his grim demeanor. There was a challenge to him. He didn’t give his smiles and laughter away easily, which made getting past his walls that much more of a reward. Any softness and wit were earned.
Estella just knew that if a lady were to win his heart, she’d be the sole owner. She’d have him, all of him. And he’d demand nothing less in return, and?—
Goodness, how she wanted that. Her breath caught at the thought of what it would be like to be loved by this man. To be the one who was allowed to love him in turn.
Every other hypothetical future relationship paled in comparison to one so fierce and true.
A new warmth spread through her, along with a fierce determination to go after what she wanted. She’d been allowing the duchess and Sebastian to steer her entire life, all for the sake of Charlotte and her father. But what if she could have it all? Wasn’t that a future worth fighting for?
"Estella, are you all right?" Thea peered at her as if checking for symptoms of an illness.
The duchess studied her as well, but she looked more amused than concerned.
