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‘Isobel didn’t seem to mind—after all, what difference would a month make?’
‘So what happened?’
Gabe shrugged. ‘You’ve got me there. I have no idea. Next thing I knew she gave that press conference without any warning at all—the one that denounced me as a heartbreaker. I called her and she said she was sorry but she didn’t want to get married any more, and she’d figured the best way to get herself out of it was to stage that interview.’
Etta looked at him with narrowed eyes. ‘Why didn’t you expose her?’
‘Because there was no point. I hadn’t been totally up-front with her, she would no longer want to be my a wife, so why stand in her way? There was nothing in it for me. And it meant I didn’t have to tell her the truth.’
‘So what will you do now?’
‘Explain the situation to my parents. Following Dad’s heart attack my parents are understandably keen for me to marry and produce the next Derwent heir. They need to know that although I can’t do that there is another possibility—that way the family can take Matteas in, groom him... Could be my parents will ask me to abdicate my position so they can take him in hand.’
The whole thought made the blood turn to ice in his veins but it was an option that had to be considered. Now that he had seen Matteas in the flesh he knew it to be a feasible reality.
‘No. They wouldn’t—they couldn’t do that.’
‘If he’s the right type of guy they could do exactly that. If they think it is better for Derwent Manor, for the future of the title of Duke of Fairfax, of course they will.’
‘And will you agree?’
‘Possibly.’ Though every emotion revolted, he knew that in reality he would have no choice. ‘If I agree that it’s best for Derwent.’
‘But what about what is the best option for you?’ Etta’s voice was gentle. ‘What about you, full-stop? All you seem to care about is the effect on Derwent. You must be devastated on a personal level about not having children. Have you taken the chance to grieve for yourself?’
‘Grief won’t provide a solution. One way or another Matteas Coleridge might.’
It almost helped to speak the words out loud as he paced the carpeted floor.
‘Option one: I remain in line for the title, marry a suitable duchess, look after the estate and imbue Matteas and his family with centuries of heritage. Or I stand aside now and he takes my place when my father dies. It depends on Matteas.’
‘No, it doesn’t. It depends on you. In any case, your parents will want you to succeed them. You are their son. They love you.’
Gabe shook his head, touched by her misplaced certainty. ‘The Derwents don’t work like that. Love isn’t in the Derwent vocabulary. My parents will transfer their loyalty to Matteas if they believe he is a worthy heir.’
‘That has to bother you.’
‘They believe the future of Derwent is more important than all the emotions and dramas of today.’
‘But it still must hurt to believe your parents could transfer their feelings so easily. I know it does, so don’t try and con me into believing you aren’t feeling something.’
‘There is no point in giving in to feelings.’
‘Maybe. But those feelings exist, however much you suppress them. If you don’t want to talk about it I truly get it.’ Etta hauled in a breath, met his gaze square-on. ‘I was fourteen when my mum fell pregnant with Rosa. When she was born I worked out that something wasn’t right... There were questions Mum couldn’t answer, or the answers she gave didn’t ring true. Also they were different with Rosa than they were with me—tactile, demonstrative, loving, happy. They adored her—truly adored her—and it was as if I didn’t exist any more. They wouldn’t even let me help look after her.’
Gabe could see the remembered hurt and bewilderment on her face and he stepped towards her. This time it was her turn to step back, with a small shake of her head.
‘The point is I eventually worked it out—I’m adopted, but they hadn’t ever told me. I asked them and they admitted it. Like it wasn’t a big deal. But it was—one minute I had an identity, and the next, kaboom, the whole facade tumbled down, leaving me as the debris.’
Gabe knew how that hurt—the collapse of a lifetime’s belief—and the pain on her face caused his chest to tighten as he imagined a teenage Etta, caught in a maelstrom of pain and confusion, hurt and anger. So much made sense now—her fear of losing Cathy’s love, her belief that Cathy would transfer her love to Tommy.
‘Etta, I’m sorry.’
‘That’s not why I told you. I told you because you’re treating something devastating as something logical, and it isn’t. You thought you had a future and now that future has been snatched away from you. Well, I thought I had a past and that was ripped away from me. And it sucks. This I know.’
Warmth touched him that she had shared something so personal, so distressing, in order to help him, and for an instant he almost felt an urge to allow the emotions he’d leashed so tight for months to run loose. But that would mean letting Etta closer, and he’d let her close enough. Anything further would smack of weakness—but he was in control and he would find a strategy to move forward.
‘Come here. I appreciate what you have told me, and I promise you that it outweighs anything I’m going through. I will deal with my parents—however it pans out, and whatever goes down. But right now there is one thing I need you to know.’
