Page 61 of The Hidden Heart

“You needn’t be. I should have thrown the scoundrel out into the snow as soon as you told me who he was. Do you suppose he might have been the intruder last night?” Richard’s expression was suddenly hopeful.

Jessica chuckled. “I am sorry to disappoint you, but I cannot imagine Darius having the nerve to do it. Besides, why would he have been snooping around your study? To steal something? He was not an enormously wealthy man, but he was well enough off.”

“Yes,” Richard agreed regretfully, “he is too big a fool to have any sort of scheme, to plan a robbery.”

“A fool?” Jessica’s lips curved up in amusement.

“You are, perhaps, a trifle harsh. You scarcely know the man, after all.”

The duke grunted. “Don’t need to. It’s obvious. He broke off his engagement with you because he was frightened by the scandal. Only a fool would do that.”

Jessica’s eyes flew up to his, startled. “I would have imagined you would not find him foolish to disconnect himself from me. I am, as you may recall, the ‘most annoying female’ you have ever met.”

“Don’t turn my own words against me,” he said in a mock-stern voice. “You are immensely aggravating. You are also beautiful and passionate.” He stopped, his mind going, unbidden, to the night before and the unchecked passion that had flowed through her at his touch, and suddenly he was hot and hard. His eyes darkened involuntarily, and he turned his gaze away from hers.

Jessica saw the look in his eyes before he turned away, and it sent a sizzle through her even as she reminded herself that he had rejected her for that very passion. “He had his career in the army,” she said colorlessly. “He could not very well permit himself to be tied by blood to a disgraced officer.”

“Any man who chooses a career over a woman’s love is a fool,” Cleybourne replied shortly. “One has nothing without that.” He shifted a little, still not looking at her. “Obviously he has regretted doing it.”

“I don’t know.” Jessica shook her head. “I—it baffles me a little. I have not seen him in ten years. I cannot believe that he has been regretting his action all this time. Why would he never have gotten in touch with me before?” She shrugged. “I think he is probably just bored, stuck in a house with strangers and nothing to do.”

Cleybourne’s eyes flashed. “So he tries to compromise a lady? To reengage her affections? Out of boredom? You should not have stopped me.”

“I don’t know,” Jessica replied honestly. “But I find it hard to believe that he loves me still.” She looked at Cleybourne, adding, “He is not the sort of man you are.”

“Thank you. I would hate to think I resembled Talbot. The man is a worm.”

Jessica smiled faintly. “Yes. But what I meant, specifically, is that he is not a man of depth. Of loyalty.”

Her words warmed Richard. He had not felt today much like a man of deep feelings and loyalty. He had felt like a man of pure need, hanging on to his control by a thread, guilty and mentally unfaithful. To hear the respect in Jessica’s voice was soothing and—as everything about her seemed to be to him right now—also arousing. His hands curled into fists as he said stiffly, “Thank you.”

He could not understand why every time he was around this woman he dissolved into a mass of confused and scattered emotions, why all his nerves seemed to have risen to the surface, raw and exposed, vulnerable to sensations. For years he had felt cut off from the world, deadened by sorrow, and now suddenly he was all too alive, aware of every passing pain or pleasure.

He spoke, more to remove himself from his thoughts than anything else. “I do not remember the scandal concerning your father, at least not clearly.”

Jessica shrugged. She had talked to almost no one about the scandal that had ripped her life apart. Everyone had shied away from the subject, whether from fear of hurting her, as Viola and the General had been, or from sheer distaste. The ones who had wanted to talk about it with her had been gossipmongers, their eyes bright with curiosity, wanting to dabble in her pain in order to have more grist for their rumor mill. It had remained a hard knot of pain inside her, buried beneath years of living.

She looked at Cleybourne uncertainly, but there was in his face no eagerness, only the understanding of life’s pain. For a moment she could not speak, emotion welling up in her throat and closing it. She took a breath, then said, “It was not a very clear thing. He—” She looked away, a little surprised at the pain that pierced her after so many years. “He was cashiered out of the army after years of service. No one said why. Rumors abounded, of course, the favorite being that he had been engaged in treasonous activities.”

Her eyes flashed fiercely as she went on. “But he would not! I know he would never have done anything to betray England. He was a man of surpassing loyalty. A soldier through and through. He would never have done anything to hurt his country.” She blinked back tears. “He would not tell me why. I asked him. I was hurt and furious about what people were saying. I wanted him to reveal the reason, to prove to everyone that he was not a traitor, that he had done nothing wrong. He swore to me that he had not betrayed the army or the country. He—he told me he was sorry, that he would not have hurt me for the world. And he looked so sad, so stricken, that I could not pressure him more. I told him I believed him, that I trusted him. I did, you see. I still do. I know that, whatever happened, he did not do anything wrong. They were mistaken. They had to be.”

Jessica stopped, her voice choked by emotion. She struggled for control, and as she did, Cleybourne reached out, laying his hand gently on her shoulder. The gesture of comfort was too much for her, and suddenly the tears overwhelmed her. She began to cry, and it seemed as though the more she tried to stop, the more she could not. She sobbed, her shoulders shaking, long-buried emotions pouring out.

“Jessica…” Instinctively Richard wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her gently against him. She laid her head against his chest and wept, her hands curling into his jacket.

His arms were loose around her, warm and comforting, and he bent his head to hers. She thought she felt the brush of his lips against her hair, but the touch was too brief and soft to be sure. Finally, exhausted by her tears, she stood for a moment longer, leaning into him, supported by his strength, surrounded by his warmth.

Then she pulled back, wiping her tears away with her hands, embarrassed at her own weakness. “I am sorry. That was silly of me.”

“No. It wasn’t silly at all. There is no reason to apologize.”

Jessica shook her head, unable to bring herself to meet his gaze. He had been kind to her, and it had felt so good, so safe and easy, to lean on him. It was, she knew, much too easy, and it was a mistake to indulge herself this way. It would be sheer folly to come to rely on Cleybourne, just as it had been folly last night to give in to the pleasure of his kisses.

“It was so long ago,” Jessica said, smoothing back her hair and straightening her dress, fussing over nothing to give herself time to recover. She straightened and looked Cleybourne in the eye, hoping that she appeared once again calm and under control. “It is foolish to even think about it still. And even more foolish to bother you with it.”

“You did not bo—”

“I am feeling quite tired,” Jessica went on quickly, interrupting him. “If you will excuse me, I think I will go up to my room now.”