She had to have one, he supposed, to have survived this long, under the weight of his father’s rule, and the burden of the worst D’Acre secrets.
“I am amazed you survived marriage to my father with your compassion intact.”
“What happens next?” Her lashes were again wet with unshed tears. “You can hurt me, you know. Far more so than your father ever could.”
“Hurt you?” He frowned. “I don’t want to hurt you. Of course I don’t. I’m not even sure how you think I would.”
Caroline’s brows drew together. “Emily.”
“What of Emily? I’m not following.”
“You could take her away from me. I’ve no legal claim on the child. I exist as her mother only in her mind and on your charity.”
“Separate you?” He jerked back. “What kind of a monster do you think I am?”
Her lower lip wobbled. Her chin dimpled.
The Devil!He’d made a hash of this. He took both of her hands, heedless of anyone who might be looking. “You are all the mother she’s ever known,” he said softly. “I could never keep you from her.”
She exhaled. The tension in her face softened, but the sadness did not dissipate.
“And I don’t regard you as living off my charity. You have your widow’s portion. But—ah, you are thinking of D’Acre house.”
She collected herself, then nodded.
“Even if I could convince myself I could choose my own happiness without bringing harm to the people I love most…” She shook her head no. “Upheaval in my life means upheaval in Emily’s life.”
He’d judged his mother for choosing happiness over responsibility, but she hadn’t really, had she? She’d been forced to choose between her children.
She’d provided the best life she was able for her middle son after having given him up until his father divorced her. She’d left her daughter in the care of a woman she knew would love her dearly. And she’d trusted her eldest to find his way—all while keeping watch over them by far.
He, too, could pull a frayed thread through an impossibly small needle.
“Next Season, Emily’s life is going to change, regardless. Should you wish encourage Mr. Vane, I will not object. In fact, that brings me to the other thing I wished to dis—”
Caroline’s sob interrupted him. Confused, he reached into his pocket and drew out a handkerchief. “What’s wrong?”
“Too late,” she managed. “Jonathan Vane tried to ask me to marry him once. I wouldn’t let him. I cannot tell him I’ve changed my mind, now.”
“Why not?”
“Because he’s started courting Miss Wainwright. And he’s told me he intends to propose to her at the Harbury ball.”
His heart stuttered.
“I know him,” Caroline continued. “Even if I were to tell him how I feel, he will not go back on his word.”
“Caroline, will you come with me to see the esteemed Mr. Vane? Now?”
“What about Emily?”
His lips flattened. “Emily can come, too. Emily will likely learn the truth as soon as Bessie passes on the letters from my mother. Better she learns it from the people in her life that she already trusts.”
Bessie had arranged a marriage for Caroline. Bessie was arranging a marriage for the Blackbird. Even though Bessie had refused to confirm his suspicions, he’d wager his last sixpence Bessie had arranged a marriage for Miss Elizabeth Wainwright, too.
Well, the latter was one match of Bessie’s that would never take place.
Not if he had anything to do about it.
