“But I do see what you mean,” Olivia continued.
“You do?”
“I’ve made the choice to be alone.” A moment passed. “Like a spinster.”
“Is that what you truly want?”
“Marriage isn’t for me. I’ve made my peace with that.”
“Is peace of mind enough for you?” Mariana’s stomach twisted again into its familiar knots as she anticipated Olivia’s reply.
Olivia, her blue eyes clear, bright, and razor sharp, faced her squarely. “Yes.”
Mariana picked up on an unexpected hard edge in her sister’s voice. She also couldn’t help noting the blush pinking her sister’s cheeks. Olivia’s physical cues didn’t match the content of her words. If she disregarded those words, Mariana would suspect Olivia didn’t seem peaceful at all. Of course, Olivia rarely spoke of Percy. Mariana had always assumed it was because the past was too painful a place to revisit. But, just now, it seemed . . . different.
“I forgot the anniversary of Percy’s death in July,” Olivia said, a humorless huff of a laugh escaping her. “The Duke had to remind me.”
Mariana detected a strand of guilt in Olivia’s tone. A surge of anger and protectiveness swept through her at the very idea that Olivia would feel the slightest measure of guilt over a man like Percy.
“Can you believe it’s been eleven years?” Olivia asked. “It feels like yesterday.”
“Time can be a trickster,” Mariana said to buy time, her mind racing.
Olivia deserved better than peace. She deserved better than to feel guilt over her conscienceless cad of a husband. She deserved the truth. She deserved . . .
Freedom.
Impulsively, Mariana snatched up Olivia’s hand and rose, pulling her sister across the room and through the doorway. The girls at the piano didn’t notice. Mariana guided them to the little window seat situated beneath the crook of the main staircase. Many an afternoon she and Olivia had spent here telling each other their deepest, darkest secrets. Tonight, Mariana had one last deep, dark secret to tell.
She looked into her sister’s eyes. “There is more about Paris.”
A knowing smile lit up Olivia’s face. “Is it about Nick?” Olivia reached for Mariana’s hands and squeezed. “I am so happy for you. I knew you and Nick would find your way to each other again.”
Mariana’s stomach simultaneously heaved and sank. “No, Olivia. Quite the opposite, actually.” She inhaled a deep breath and took the plunge. “Percy is alive.”
Olivia’s wide, happy gaze transformed into one bewildered and incredulous. “Percy is alive,” she repeated. “It seems I would have heard about this sooner.”
“I’m not sure you would know him. He is a spy, and . . . altered.”
“Alive . . . a spy . . . altered,” Olivia repeated slowly. “You’re certain it was he?”
Mariana nodded. “It was he.”
Olivia’s gaze fixed on the dusky, bucolic view outside the window. Reserved and watchful Olivia always took her time to process her feelings. Much the opposite of bold, brash Mariana.
“Did he happen to mention when he is coming home?”
Mariana hadn’t imagined this conversation could get any more difficult, but it just had. “I don’t think he has any intention of coming home.” She hesitated, hoping to find any sequence of words that would comfort her sister. “I know you love—”
Olivia pinned Mariana with a piercing glare. “Love? What on earth does love have to do with Percy and me?” She shot to a stand and gazed down at a confused Mariana. “You will stay with the girls and bring them back to London in a few days?”
“You’re up to London?”
Olivia nodded. “I must speak to the Duke.”
“Be careful,” Mariana said. “It will be the shock of the Duke’s life to hear that his favorite son has risen from the dead.”
Olivia leaned over and swiped a quick kiss onto Mariana’s cheek before whispering into her ear. “You will stand with me? No matter what I choose to do?”
