Page 72 of Distracting the Duke

“You must forgive your sister,” he said softly.

He was prepared for her immediate efforts to push away from him. Ruthlessly, he held her still.

“You expect me to forgive Kate?”

“I don’t think you can ever be truly happy until you have forgiven her for her folly and taken her back into the bosom of your family where she belongs.”

Her voice was sharp. “You sound as if you’ve seen her. Have you seen her, Marcus?”

“I have.” His heart tensed painfully. This was the part of the gamble he’d been dreading. “In fact,” he added slowly, “she’s here.”

Clara stilled. “Here? In Devonshire?”

“She’s here at Kessington, in the winter drawing room, and her son is with her.”

“What?” Clara writhed in his grasp, pushing at his hands, but he refused to budge. Even if she hurt him, he wouldn’t let go of her now.

“Calm down, Clara. I brought them here hoping you would agree to speak to her. Kate is contrite. She regrets bitterly what she did to you, and has suffered horribly the last three years knowing that you hate her and Georgie. I told her you didn’t hate her. If you did, you wouldn’t be sending her money.”

“Philip must have told you that. It wasn’t his secret to tell. It was very wrong of him.”

“It took a little persuasion on my part, I’ll admit. Please, don’t blame your brother. He meant well. You may blame me. But I hope when all is settled, you will find it in your heart to forgive me, too, Clara. I have done this only out of love for you.”

She quieted then. He gave her time to absorb what he’d just admitted out loud—that he loved her. He had known for some time that he was so deeply smitten, she would always be a part of him, even if he was never able to claim her for his own.

“Will you see her?” he whispered hopefully. “She’s come a long way and waited a long time for this reunion. I’m certain you won’t regret having made the gesture.”

She fidgeted in his embrace, and he bent his head and kissed her—delicate, loving kisses, designed to reassure, not arouse.

Eventually, she sucked in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. In a small voice, she asked, “Will you come with me?”

“I’ll take you to her, yes. But then I will leave you alone. I shall wait outside the door in case I’m needed, but I don’t expect to be. You’ll do it, then?”

“I’ll try.”

“Bravo, my darling! Come, before you change your mind.” He released her and leaned past her to set the key in the lock. As light flooded the little chamber he gave himself a moment to get used to it, then bent to retrieve her bonnet and set himself to the task of making her presentable.

Looking into her eyes, he hoped she could see his heart reflected in his, the depth of the love that made him want to move mountains for her. Then he turned her about, took her hand, and led her back into the depths of the house to where Kate Weston and her little son, Georgie, were waiting.

He paused outside the door with his hand on the knob. “I don’t know if you’re aware of it, Clara, but you have already conquered one of your fears.”

She turned to him, puzzled. “I have?”

“I locked you into the camera obscura. A small, dark space—the kind of place you should have been desperate to escape. Yet, you didn’t even notice.”

She gave him a coy look. “Perhaps that was because you were there with me, Marcus.”

His heart flipped over in his breast, and he resisted the urge to grin like a lovestruck schoolboy. Here was hope, and—if he was fortunate—in a very short time, all his dreams would be realized.

Chapter Forty

So, it had finally come—the moment Clara had been dreading.

She hadn’t expected to avoid the issue of Kate forever. Even without Marcus’s intervention, or the occasional diatribe from Philip, no doubt she would have come to the same conclusion they had.

Peace must be brokered between the Weston sisters.

She stepped into the room and stood still, aware of Marcus standing just behind her, his powerful masculine presence warming her back. Was he there to support, or to cut off her retreat?