“I am ‘Lady Theodora’ to you, sir. If and when you address me in the future, you will do so in a proper manner. You may continue to be my father’s adopted son, but I am no longer your sister. I am nothing to you, and you are nothing to me.”
“Theodo…” Alexander stepped before her. “I mean, Lady Theodora, permit me to…”
“No!” Her voice echoed in the empty house. “Do you not understand? I have shared my dreams with you.” Her tears flowed freely now. “And you have shared yours with me.” She gestured to Miss Moreau. “Yours are now living and hold the potential of happiness, while mine lie dormant in what remains of my heart. It is over! We are over, Lord Marksman! Because of you and my lack of ability to engender your affection, I have sunk so low as to pay Mrs. Dove-Lyon to find me a suitor! Low enough to beg for someone else to love me.” Her tears ran freely down her cheeks. “And it is all because you cannot love anyone but yourself! That fact should be a warning to you, Lady Annalise. Today, you are the center of Lord Marksman’s universe, but his earnestness is quite short. Tomorrow, who knows where it will lie?”
With that, she scrambled from the room and rushed out onto the street, leaving the door to Amgen House open again. By the time she reached the corner and turned towards the mews, Theodora was running, no matter how unladylike she appeared. She thought she had heard Alexander call her name, but he did not chase after her to confess his affections, for, obviously, they did not exist. She had only been fooling herself all these years. Instead, he had stood by her father’s side—stood deep in the intrigue with no care for who they destroyed with their stratagems. Marksman and her father continually permitted her to make herself appear a fool before all of London, so why should she act otherwise?
She was not looking where she was going and slammed into a gentleman’s chest. He caught her arms, quite tightly, too tightly, in fact, for comfort. Dora tilted her head back to view someone she had hoped never to encounter again.
“Pleasant to ‘run’ into you again, my lady,” he said with a lift of his brows. “Perhaps we might take up where we left off.”
“I should goafter her,” Alexander said as he slowly closed the door to keep others from knowing what had transpired. “I could go through the escape passage.”
“Provide Theodora time to calm down,” Duncan said, but he looked as if someone had struck him low again. True pain marked his brow. “Theodora is correct. We both have failed her. Elsbeth begged me to keep our daughter close, but I have kept her too close. She should have had a Come Out, but I never wished to turn her over to another, even to you, Alexander. I permitted you to postpone your proposal, for I had the best of both worlds. Unfortunately, I never considered Dora’s happiness, only my own.”
“Neither of us did,” Alexander admitted. “Did you know she asked Mrs. Dove-Lyon to arrange for a proper suitor for her?”
Duncan chuckled. “Not initially, but Richard mentioned that Dora and Lady Emma had called on the Black Widow of Whitehall. At first, I objected, but Richard pointed out only those who hoped for an honest relationship would dare cross over the threshold at Duncan Place. To date, no one has called, but that is because they fear me, not because of Theodora’s lack of charm. I am aware of the conundrum, but I have not spoken to my daughter regarding it. Such is another of my failures.”
“One of us should go after her,” Alexander repeated.
Duncan looked as pale as he had been after being shot, but he said, “We must first set this business you have started on its feet, and then we will tend to Theodora. She will not listen to either of us until she has spent her tears, and this matter cannot wait.”
“Is such not what Theodora has just accused both of us of doing with some regularity?” Alexander protested.
“It is,” Duncan admitted. “We are both cowards when it comes to women shedding tears.”
