“Are you in trouble, Giles?”
“I have absolutely no idea.”
“A very cryptic answer.”
He shrugged, resigned, all the light gone from his face. “Yet the only one I have—even for myself.”
She took his hand and he stared transfixed at their interlaced fingers. “If ever you are tempted to trust someone, I would liketo help. I owe you—I also have a proven track record of rescuing people who deserve rescuing.”
“Alas, not even the Sentinel can rescue me from this. In fact, I don’t wish to be rescued. I never made the bed I have been forced to lie in, but I am determined to cling to the mattress for as long as I can before I am kicked out of it.”
“Kicked out of it?” With every sentence her intuitive gut clenched in fear. “Who could do that?”
He shook his head, staring lost into his empty glass. “Who knows?”
Why wouldn’t he let her help him? He looked so troubled and alone. So sad she couldn’t bear it. “Surely another pair of eyes and ears could help protect you from whatever it is you fear.”
“I see you are quoting me back to myself again.” He laughed without humor.
“Are you going to make me dig for it, Giles? I will if you try to keep me in the dark, because I am the one now worried sick for your safety and digging is what I do best.”
“You don’t give up, do you?” His thumb idly stroked her palm, but there was indecision in his eyes now.
“Never.”
“Even if I beg you to for your own sake?”
“Especially if you beg me to.” She squeezed his hand tighter. “You are my friend. I care about you.”
He stared at their joined hands for an eternity, indecision warring with the obvious temptation to waver until he swallowed. Hard. Then stared deeply into her eyes as if he needed to see inside her soul.
“If I tell you my dreadfulDirty Secret—do you promise tosuffer Dalton without complaint for as long as needs be?” She nodded. “And do I have your word you will never tell anyone what I am about to tell you, even if it releases buzzing hornets everywhere and your silence is technically breaking the law of the land?”
Dread settled in her stomach. Not for herself but for him. He was scared of something. Something huge. Diana could sense it. “I swear on my life your secret is safe with me.” She drew a cross over her heart, and he smiled as he shook his head.
“All right…” He inhaled deeply then blew out a labored breath, his fingers suddenly gripping hers as if he needed her strength simply to get the words out. “Good grief… I cannot believe I am about to do this but…” Instinctively she held his hand for all she was worth. “The duchess wasn’t really my mother and I am, in fact, the Duke of Harpenden’s bastard.”
“What?” Of all the dreadful things her vivid imagination had conjured, it certainly wasn’t that. Her eyes blinked dumbstruck yet she didn’t doubt the validity of his revelation. The weight and anguish of the truth were evident in every nuance, plane, and sinew of his body.
“He needed an heir and when she couldn’t provide him with one, he foisted another woman’s child upon her. Which means, in the eyes of the law, I have no legal claim to the title I now hold. The duke covered his tracks well, so well I was none the wiser until a few years ago, but I suspect not well enough that it is quite as secret as he thought. In fact, during our last conversation he alluded to as much. He said he needed a legal heir as a contingency, sired in irrefutable wedlock for all the world to see to ensure his legacy remained in his line.”
“That was why he was marrying Dahlia Regis.”
He nodded. “He was scared of someone, Diana. Scared of the truth coming out. So I fear I am living on borrowed time as the master of Harpenden, and all this will be snatched away before I can repair the mess he made of it.”
“Hence your haste to get it all fixed so quickly.”
He nodded. “I have no idea how long I’ve got.”
“Do you know who your real mother is?”
“I haven’t a clue—but there is clearly someone out there who does. Biding their time, waiting for the chance to destroy me now that the duke’s intended fraud is actual. When the duchess spat the truth at me on her deathbed, she called her my father’s harlot, so I do, at least, know who he really was.” He pointed to his chin, attempting irony. When she didn’t smile back his wry one slipped and she saw his pain. “You see—I did warn you it was a deep, dark, dirty, and dangerous secret.” He lifted their interlinked hands, studying them in the dim light before he sighed.
“And seeing as the cognac has decreed this is a night for sharing deep and dangerous secrets, here’s another one I shouldn’t confess to you but apparently I am going to anyway though heaven only knows why.” He traced the pad of his index finger down her cheek and across her lips, looking so lost and defeated it broke her heart. “I am going to miss you, too, Diana. Undeniably so much more than a man in my precarious and untenable position should.”
“Oh, Giles…” Without thinking it through, and before talking herself out of it, her hand cupped his cheek and he leaned into it. Then he sighed against her mouth as he pressed his lips to hers.
It was a brief kiss. Over before it had started because he pulled away. “I’m sorry.”
