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Just outside the door, she noted the sounds of her family talking, a good sign she wasn’t too late. But the moment she walked through the doorway, silence fell and every eye turned to her. She noted that while all her sisters were there, her father wasn’t present.
Sharp dread tightened her chest as they stared at her. She stopped, looking at several of them before she finally relaxed enough to ask. “What’s wrong?”
Cordelia cleared her throat. “He left.”
“Papa?” she asked, sliding into her seat near the head of the table. “He often starts work early in order to have the evenings with us.”
“We’re aware of our own father’s schedule,” Juliet huffed. “The subject we are less educated on is what happened between you and the duke that he left before seven this morning.”
Ophelia nibbled her lip, trying to decide what she shared and didn’t with her sisters. She loved her family dearly but there were very few secrets in this house. “Nothing happened. I—”
“Liar,” Adrianna pointed across the table. “You kissed him last night. I know you did.”
Heat infused her cheeks. “Adrianna, that’s absurd. I—”
She turned her finger up and wagged it. “Don’t deny it. It was completely obvious.”
Her other sisters fell silent as they stared at her. Not knowing what to say, she gazed down at her hands currently twisting in her lap.
“Are you going to marry him?” Bianca finally asked.
Her head snapped up as she started in surprise. “He’s gone. How could I marry him?”
“But…” This from Cordelia again. “He’s coming back.” She reached for one of her dark larks of hair and twisted it around her finger. “I thought perhaps he’d gone to get a marriage license.”
“Coming back,” she repeated, more to herself as she slumped down into her chair. Why would he be coming back? “He won’t be bringing a marriage license. He made it clear he didn’t want to marry. I’ve no idea why he would return.”
“But that makes no sense,” Bianca pinched her chin. “Father looked so happy the duke would be returning. One of you must be mistaken.”
Ophelia’s shoulders hunched. “It’s Papa. But still, I’m glad he’ll return. Even if he doesn’t want to marry me, he did divulge some of his past and the man needs help.”
Juliet groaned, loudly, drowning out any other noise in the room. “For heaven’s sake, Ophelia. Please tell me you’re not going to try and rescue a man who has made it clear he doesn’t want you.”
Ophelia straightened, bristling. “What does him wanting me have to do with helping him? We don’t help people to get something out of it. We do it out of the kindness of our hearts.”
Cordelia reached for her sister’s hand. “Agreed.” Then she glared at Juliet. “We should be thankful Ophelia gives with so little regard for herself. We all benefit from compassion.” Then she swept her around the table. “But as it stands, being kind to a duke could have great benefit to Ophelia. Even if he doesn’t marry her himself, he could help her to make a strong match. Which is why…” Now she glared at Adrianna. “We’re not going to tell Papa about the kiss.”
“Thank you,” Ophelia answered, reaching for Cordelia’s hand.
But Bianca shook her head. “Wouldn’t it be better to just tell Papa and have him force a match? Then you’d be married to a duke.”
Ophelia shook her head. “I don’t want a husband who has been forced.” She thought of all her dreams. How her match came to be was as important to her as the end result of marriage.
“Besides,” Juliet shrugged. “Papa isn’t even titled. He might fail to force a duke into anything and then Ophelia would be without a husband or a connection.”
“So it’s agreed,” Cordelia said. “We don’t tell Papa and we allow Ophelia to aid the duke.”
Ophelia frowned. “If he even comes back. At this point, I’m not certain he will.” And despite her determination in the wee hours of the night to help the man, she wasn’t at all sure she wanted him to. Even wounded, or maybe because of the wounds he bore, he had great potential to hurt her. Her stomach flipped. Perhaps instead of planning how to help him, she should pray he never came back.
Chapter Six
The wind whipped at the carriage, rattling the wood. Though the rain had passed, heavy gusts had clearly blown away the storm and most everything else. Chase had passed two barns that had collapsed in the high wind, and unease set in his stomach like a stone.
First, he couldn’t shake the feeling he wasn’t where he belonged, and he’d debated turning back a dozen or so times. Second, he had some vague worry about Ophelia and the wind, though he knew she was tucked safely inside her house built of stone, he felt like he should be next to her ev
en now, making sure she was safe.
One damned kiss and he was a mooning fool. But it was more than the kiss. He’d been mad for her after it, yes, but their conversation in the hall…it had shifted something inside him. He’d told her things he hadn’t spoken of in years.
