“Suppose she doesn’t wish to speak with you?”
Hugo felt something twist in his chest. “Then I’ll wait until she does. I’ll camp on your doorstep if necessary.”
“How romantic. Though I doubt romantic gestures will repair the damage you’ve done.”
“What damage? What has she told you?”
“Enough.” Lady Keats settled into a chair. “She’s told me that you made it clear that children with her would be an inconvenience. That you see her as little more than a useful acquisition.”
Each word was like a blade to his skin. Had he really been so callous?
“I was afraid,” he admitted quietly. “Afraid of admitting how much she’d come to mean to me.”
“Fear is understandable, Your Grace. Cruelty is not.”
Before Hugo could respond, soft footsteps announced another arrival. His heart nearly stopped when Sybil appeared in the doorway.
She looked pale, thinner. Her blue eyes were guarded, wary in a way that made his chest tight.
“Mama, the butler said—” She stopped short when she saw him. “Hugo.”
“Sybil.” He rose, drinking in the sight of her. “You look…”
“Tired,” she said flatly. “I look tired.”
“I was going to say lovely. You always look lovely to me.”
Sybil’s expression didn’t soften. “What are you doing here?”
“I’ve come to apologize. To explain.” Hugo glanced at Lady Keats. “To tell you the things I should have said long ago.”
“I don’t think there’s anything left to say between us.”
“There’s everything left to say. Please, Sybil. Give me a chance.”
She hesitated. “Five minutes.”
“Thank you.” Hugo looked meaningfully at her mother.
Lady Keats rose with obvious reluctance. “I’ll be just outside. Call if you need me, my dear.”
When they were alone, Hugo struggled for words. How did one begin to repair such damage?
“Sybil, I need you to understand something about my first marriage. Something I’ve never told anyone.”
Her expression remained guarded, but he caught a flicker of interest.
“I didn’t marry Caroline for love. She trapped me through a carefully orchestrated scandal.”
Sybil’s eyes widened. “Trapped you?”
“She arranged for us to be discovered alone together in compromising circumstances. There were witnesses, whispers, the threat of social ruin if I didn’t offer for her.”
Hugo moved closer, noting how she tensed but didn’t retreat.
“I was young, naive enough to believe marriage based on duty could become something more. It never did. Caroline made it clear she’d achieved her goal—a title and position. My feelings were irrelevant.”
“And then?” Sybil’s voice was barely above a whisper.
