Page 55 of The Duke and the Darkness

But she wasn’t alone any longer. They were in this together now.

When his fingers reassuringly squeezed hers, a single tear slipped down her cheek and soaked into the pillow.

“Thank you, Devlin,” she whispered.

He’d given her a gift tonight. Her father hadn’t been completely innocent, and his behavior could never be fullyabsolved. But she knew now the limits of his criminality and could begin to come to terms with the man he had truly been.

She also knew exactly how much Devlin blamed himself for not stopping the events of that night, how much guilt he still carried over what their fathers had done.

“That’s why you created this place, isn’t it?” Her voice was no louder than a breath. “To atone for what our fathers did.”

“Yes.”

Peyton doubted that anything the two of them did could ever be enough to provide the kind of restitution those crimes deserved. Yet Devlin proved to her that they could try, and hope fluttered in her heart. For the first time in too many years to count, she could finally believe that the future might help right the past, that she might have a way forward.

“I will help you, Peyton, however I can, to remove you from danger and stop whoever is targeting you. I promise you that.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it before resting it on his chest. His slow, strong heartbeat pulsed against her fingertips. “But what happened that night—what our fathers and Crewe’s did all those years ago—none of that can ever come to light. Understand?”

Dread tightened her chest, squeezing the little bit of hope from her heart, and she slipped her hand free of his. “No, I don’t. We’re on the verge of stopping Horrender from harming anyone I care about ever again. If that means shouting out from the rooftop what our fathers did, then I am all for the shouting.”

He rolled away from her and slipped off the bed. With his braces still dangling around his hips, he snatched up the bottle of cognac and collapsed into the leather reading chair. His gaze burned darkly into hers.

“What good would it do to reveal it all now?” he asked, contemplating the bottle.

“It might stop Horrender from—”

“Mightstop,” he repeated her words. “Ifit’s even Horrender who’s after you now, and we don’t know that.” He leaned forward, elbows on knees. “I can’t accept the risks for what will happen if people find out, including revealing your existence to the world.”

Her existence… The thought terrified her, but she also knew she couldn’t continue to live in a ghost world. “I’m prepared for that.”

“Are you? Then get dressed.” He waved at the pile of her clothes on the floor. “We’ll go back to Mayfair, and you can properly introduce yourself to my mother.”

Damn him.He knew she wasn’t ready for that. Yet she lied in an attempt to convince herself as much as him, “If it means keeping people safe, I’ll do it.”

“But it won’t keep anyone safe. You can’t fathom the lives that will be ruined if the past comes back.”

“You mean your family.”

“And others.”

“I don’t want to hurt anyone.” She pulled the coverlet up to her shoulders to cover herself, feeling suddenly bare and vulnerable. “But I can’t keep living this way. I am so very tired of the uncertainty, the hatred, the fear—of losing people I love.” Her shoulders slumped beneath the unbearable weight of it all, and she pressed the heal of her hand against the pain in her forehead at the thought of Wilkins and Proctor. “I’ve suffered enough for crimes I never committed, and so have the people around me.”

“Should more people suffer for crimes they don’t even know happened?”

“If it means bringing to justice the people who killed my parents, who attempted to kill me and who—”Who attempted to rape me.But she couldn’t utter that last out loud. She clenched the coverlet in her hand, desperately needing something solidto cling to now that he sat on the other side of the room. “Who deserve to pay for the evils they’ve done.Allof them. If the only way to do that is to be public about what our fathers did, then that’s what we have to do.”

“At what cost? The destruction of two dukedoms and all the people who depend upon them to survive, both our families, all our servants and employees, our tenants, hundreds of villagers, and everyone their lives touch in turn…all the millers, carpenters, brewers, innkeepers—my family’s main estate is eighty-five thousand acres by itself and supports nearly half the county. Should cottagers who have never been more than ten miles from the village be punished if we reveal the truth about what our fathers did?”

“Innocent people are still being hurt,” she whispered, barely louder than breath. “I lost Wilkins and Proctor tonight.”

“We don’t know that for certain.”

She looked away, too overwhelmed by confusion and uncertain—and grief—to accept what he was saying. Too much had happened, so many people had been lost… How could she turn her back on all of them?

He rose from the chair and slowly walked back to the bed. When he sank onto the edge of the mattress, he gently took her chin and turned her face until she looked at him. Thankfully, there was no judgment or condemnation in his expression. Only concern.

“Until we know more,” he continued, “the best plan of action is to do nothing.” He held out the bottle to her, and she could just see in the dim light from the stove that one final drink remained. “Lucien and I agreed a long time ago that we would keep secret what our fathers had done. Now I ask the same of you.”

She took a deep breath and tried to sort through the barrage of thoughts and emotions assaulting her from every direction.She knew so much more now about that night, but her heart also knew justice wouldn’t come as long as secrets were kept.