Page 76

“I want the way you look at the duchess,” Cleo whispered, feeling acute embarrassment. “To be the person you wanted to marry then.”

“I didn’t come back when Merry debuted because I didn’t care enough.”

“You were injured—”

“The following year,” he interrupted. “By then, she’d been making scandals up and down New England. Did all that gossip tell you that one of Merry’s fiancés sued her for breach of promise?”

Cleo shook her head.

“Ask her about the rubbishing fellows she tied herself to before she came over to London and met Trent on a balcony. Mind you, she was betrothed to his brother at the time. Betrothal three or four. I lost count.”

Cleo’s eyes widened.

“Merry had a bad habit of accepting proposals from the wrong men. But trust me, Cleo, if there had been a moment when she and I wanted to marry each other, we would have done it, and not one of her fiancés could have stopped us.”

“You danced with her.” His words were sinking in, but the anxiety twisting in Cleo’s stomach hadn’t gone away.

“While waiting for you to come. You were late. Merry kept teasing me, damn her, about the way I couldn’t stop looking for you. And then when I finally saw you, you were dancing with that—that Englishman.”

Cleo’s heart clenched. “You loved her first, and maybe you’ll always love her, and you were dancing with her, and she’s so beautiful.”

“Not the way you are.”

“I’m not beautiful. You said I was witchy, remember?”

His kiss was hard. “You’re gorgeous,” he rasped. “Witchy because you obviously fucking bewitched me.”

Cleo smiled. “You shouldn’t swear in the presence of a lady.”

“You did. When we first met. I told Merry that you couldn’t possibly be a lady, and then you turned out to be the granddaughter of a viscount, because you’re the most surprising woman I’ve ever met. There’s no one like you.”

Cleo hitched up one side of her mouth. “Are you certain you never wished to marry the duchess?”

“You think I’m nurturing a broken heart? Me?” He stared down at her, eyebrow raised, his hair rumpled from her hands, looking male and surprised and slightly outraged.

“You could be,” she said defensively. “She’s your best friend.”

“Actually, I have the feeling you may be. Merry and I don’t share interests; we share memories. Our childhood.”

The words hung on the evening air like a promise.

“Oh,” Cleo said.

“You both live in England. I need to get used to rain.”

Cleo shook her head, a wave of panic washing over her. “Don’t assume that I— I’m not ready for— No. I was— No.”

He broke into laughter. “We’re invited to dinner with Merry at the end of the week, and then you’ll see right away that she is a sister to me.”

“We should return to the rotunda, and I’ll meet her now.”

“I told your grandfather that I would bring you home. That silly girl Lydia, Lilford’s sister, fell down the steps in a flurry of petticoats, then she burst into tears and insisted on being taken home.”

“Was she injured? You didn’t tell him!”

“No injury except to her pride. A great many people had a clear view of her undergarments, so she had hysterics.”

“Poor Lydia,” Cleo said.