Page 32 of The Wedding-Crashing Duchess

Augusta’s irritation faded. There was no attempt at self-pity in his voice; instead there was something more difficult in the calmness with which he judged himself.

“Then perhaps you may begin now,” she said, “because children are not won through grand gestures but rather through small things repeated often enough that they begin to trust them. Sarah does not need you to become a different man before breakfast tomorrow, only that you show you more interest in her life.”

Ronan’s gaze remained on her face. “How is it that you are able to dispense advice when you don’t have any children of your own?”

Augusta couldn’t help but laugh at that.

“Your Grace, you know I have a younger sister,” she said, nodding. “Matilda has provided enough difficulty to educate the entire family.”

The servants approached to remove the soup, and Augusta lowered her gaze while the next course was placed before them, although the warmth in her face remained.

When the servants withdrew again, she looked towards the fire rather than at him. “Did Sarah’s mother like stories?”

Ronan’s fork paused above his plate, and the ease that had entered the conversation disappeared. “I do not know.”

The words were quiet.

“You do not have to speak about her,” Augusta said, “although Sarah asked me whether I had known her mother, and when I told her I had not, she asked what sort of lady she had been, which makes me think she has asked others before.”

“She probably has, and they have probably offered kinder answers than I could. She died during childbirth; I suppose that is the most important thing you ought to know.”

Augusta listened without interrupting, because his sentences came slowly, yet each one appeared to cost him more than the last.

“She died before we had time to become anything other than strangers,” he continued. “She was younger than I was.”

Augusta held his gaze, and although the honesty in his words unsettled her, it also drew her towards him, because she had expected defensiveness.

“Then tell Sarah the truth that belongs to her,” Augusta said, “although you need not burden her with all of this while she is still a child. Tell her that her mother was gentle, and tell her that you wish you had known her better.”

Ronan looked down at his plate, although he had scarcely touched the food. “You have been in this house for less than a week, and already you speak as though you understand what everyone here requires.”

“I do not understand everyone, although I understand what it is to have questions about family.”

Ronan’s attention returned to her. “From experience?”

“My sister,” she nodded. “I didn’t know her for most of my life, really.”

“You did not know Charity was your sister?”

“Not until a few years ago; my parents believed she had died. It was a mess. Charity believed she had been abandoned, while in reality she had been taken away and raised in a nunnery. When the truth emerged, it was soon afterward our parents died. Matilda and I were left under our uncle’s authority before we had properly understood that we possessed another sister at all.”

Ronan’s expression darkened. “Your uncle attempted to force Charity into marriage.”

“He attempted several things. When Charity escaped his plans, he turned his attention to me. He believed that if he married one of us to our cousin, he could preserve control over the estate and whatever else he thought belonged to him.”

“And Duncan intervened?”

“Eventually, although I did not trust him at first, because he was a duke and he was older than Charity. He seemed far too certain of himself, which I considered evidence of dangerous arrogance.”

Ronan’s mouth curved. “You distrusted a duke because he appeared intimidating and self-assured, and then you accused another duke of murder because he carried a distinctive cane, which suggests you have developed a remarkably consistent method of judging men.”

“My judgement of Duncan improved.”

“After how long?”

“Long enough.”

Ronan leaned back, and although amusement had returned to his face, his gaze remained intent. “I would like a more precise measure. If your treatment of Duncan is meant to reassure me, I should know whether I am expected to wait weeks, months, or several years before you decide I am merely unpleasant rather than criminal.”