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Your secret is safe with me.
If only.
Rafe decided long ago that he would never burden anyone else with his escapades. Thanks to her theatrical training, his mother had often assisted her husband in his work for the Crown. Though the late earl was officially a diplomat, at times a bit of espionage was called for. His mother rarely spoke about these missions, but from what Rafe had discerned from her cryptic comments, it had put a heavy strain on their marriage at times. If he continued this acquaintance—and that wasallit would be—with Miss Sparrow, she could only ever see him as a feckless rogue. The thought sank through him like a stone. His cover had always provided a kind of shelter. A way to move through the world that protected him from all the things beyond his control.
The Honorable Rafe Daviesdidn’t give a fig about receiving the cut direct from his pompous older brother at the theater.
The Honorable Rafe Daviesenjoyed more romances than his mother ever had, and he flaunted them proudly.
The Honorable Rafe Daviesspent more at his tailor than most men made in a week merely because he could.
None of it was true, but all that mattered was that people believed it. That they never bothered to look past the image he had carefully crafted, lest they catch a glimpse of the man underneath. But it was different with Miss Sparrow. A part of himwantedher to strip him of every last lie until he was laid bare before her. Until all that remained was himself. Just Rafe.
He silenced the thought, which had brought him to a full stop. What if the feckless rogue became reformed? That was believable, if a tad predictable.
Butbelievabilitywasn’t the issue here. This woman was a distraction. And he certainly didn’t need anything else on his plate. Rafe shook his head and continued down the hall, making sure he appeared as relaxed as possible. Like a man who thought of little more than his next meal or tumble. But it wasn’t quite as easy as it had been before, and even he couldn’t ignore the slight drag in his step.
Chapter Six
Sylvia did not see Georgiana again until she breezed into their suite an hour before tea. When Mrs. Crawford left the sitting room to dress, Sylvia took the chance to apologize.
The viscountess accepted it with her usual grace. “I overreacted. I know you meant no harm. And I understand your caution. I only wish…” She trailed off. Sylvia waited on tenterhooks, hoping that just this once Georgiana would give voice to her thoughts, and concerns, about her marriage, but she only shook her head. “It is no matter. What’s done is done.” Then she perked up and swiftly changed course. “I did see Mr. Davies in the hall earlier. We spoke about your little encounter. Don’t worry. He won’t say a thing to anyone.” Then she gave Sylvia a sly look. “I think you may have charmed the man.”
“Ridiculous,” Sylvia insisted, even as her cheeks began to heat. “I’m sure it’s just as you said. I’m something of a novelty to him.”
“I never said anything of the kind,” Georgiana protested. “Though I admit this is an unexpected development.” She tapped a finger to her lips in consideration.
“Do you know him well?” Sylvia forced the gnawing question out even while it felt too much like giving in to hope. A hope she couldn’t afford.
“I only met him once in London, buteveryonehas heard about him, of course.” She punctuated this with an airy wave of her hand.
“Heard what? What do they say?”
Georgiana raised an eyebrow at her urgent tone. “Well, as I said before, his mother was an actress. It would hardly be the first time an aristocrat made an imprudent marriage, but she was the earl’s second wife. As I understand it, Mr. Davies was their only child. And the current earl and his sisters still refuse to recognize him. There was gossip last spring about Mr. Davies being snubbed at the theater by his own brother. I’m not sure they’ve ever even spoken.”
“That’s awful.” Sylvia burned with the secondhand embarrassment such an act would create. Mr. Davies seemed impervious to discomfort, but to be ignored so publicly by one’s own family must have stung. “He certainly couldn’t control the circumstances of his birth. Why would his siblings punishhimfor it?”
Georgiana shrugged. “By all accounts the old earl was very much in love with his new bride until his death. I’m sure his first marriage was one born of duty. Perhaps his children acted out of loyalty to their mother. It must have been terribly difficult for them.”
“Still, it isn’t right to act as if he doesn’texist.” Sylvia shook her head. “He might not have anyone now.”
Georgiana looked at her intently. “I know you are thinking of the many ways in which your own miserable excuse for a brother has been a great disappointment, but you must allow that Mr. Davies hasn’t exactly helped his situation. One does not become a known profligate by accident. And his brother is not the kind of man to tolerate such behavior. If he is at all interested in having a relationship with his family, then there is a good deal he could do to facilitate that. Starting with hisownbehavior.”
Sylvia nodded reluctantly. Georgiana was only trying to protect her. And rightfully so. The viscountess rose and declared she needed to change before tea. Sylvia took the opportunity to freshen up, as her wardrobe was decidedly less extensive than Georgiana’s. But she used the chance to add the tiniest bit of rose-tinted salve to her cheeks and lips. Then she sat down on the small couch in the suite’s sitting room and waited for the other ladies to finish. By then a maid had lit a small fire in the hearth, and Sylvia let her mind wander while she stared at the dancing flames.
Mr. Davies may have been shut out of his own family, but he had still been born with every advantage. Advantages that, in her opinion, should not exist. And yet she couldn’t help imagining the scene at the theater. What must it have felt like when his elder brother turned his back in front of so many? She strongly suspected Mr. Davies would have hidden his true feelings behind a cool smirk. But those dark eyes would have remained intent, taking in every detail with a steady, unflinching gaze. Others might dismiss him as little more than a charming wastrel–––Sylvia had certainly done so initially. But the more time she spent with him, the more she noticed that he exuded a sharpness that belied a keen intelligence. One only had to bother to look.
I’d like to know more about your opinions.
His words slowly weaved through her, past the warning in her heart and the tightness in her chest. Past all the reminders of why she shouldn’t trust him. Why she couldn’t trust anyone. Until they nestled deep in her belly beside all the other secret words she held on to over the years. The ones that spoke of who she had once been and who she still wished to be.
“All right,” Mrs. Crawford bellowed as she exited her room. “Let’s get on with it. Where is Georgiana?”
“Here,” she answered, entering dressed in a pale blue confection with gauzy puffed sleeves that accentuated her generous curves and brought out her eyes.
“Oh, my lady,” Sylvia breathed. “You look lovely.”
Georgiana gave a delightful little turn at her urging, but Mrs. Crawford seemed far more concerned withherwardrobe.
