To her shame, each time the thought arose, along with the fear came the tiniest surge of hope. To have a part of him, to bear his daughter or son, would fill the cracks and voids he had left in her shattered heart.
“I suppose I must count my small mercies,” Mater was saying. “If you must wed Lady Miranda, at least you haven’t kept it a secret from me. Imagine Riverdale’s poor mother. I can only think she is dreadfully ashamed of her son.”
“We have been over this, Mater,” Rhys said, a note of steel entering his voice. “I must wed Lady Miranda because I am in love with her, and I am hopelessly lost without her. It’s a miracle she will have me, sinner that I am.”
Mater said nothing, her lips pinched tightly together. She disapproved of Rhys marrying a divorced woman. But where she argued against scandal, Rhys courted it. His love for the woman he intended to marry was admirable. Rhiannon couldn’t help but to envy her future sister-in-law, whom she had yet to meet.
Oh, to be loved as deeply as Rhys loved Lady Miranda.
Or to be cared for at all.
Tears pricked her eyes and she blinked furiously, determined not to allow them to fall. She had wept far too many times over the Duke of Richford.
“I will be happy to welcome Lady Miranda as my sister,” Rhiannon told Rhys firmly, trying to distract herself.
She meant the sentiment, of course, even if she had begun to worry that the woman she had encountered at the house party—the mysterious black-haired beauty she had presumed to be her brother’s mistress—and Lady Miranda were the same. If so, it was entirely likely that Lady Miranda would recognize her. Rhiannon could only hope that her future new sister-in-law would keep her secret.
Just as she hoped Lady Heathcote would, despite her vindictive call upon Lord Carnis. Fortunately, Lady Heathcote was not invited to Riverdale’s ball either. Rhiannon had made discreet inquiries and had been relieved to learn her nemesis would not be in attendance.
The evening promised to be a smooth one. Just as long as Rhiannon could maintain her composure and keep from either weeping or casting up her accounts, she thought miserably.
“Thank you, sister,” Rhys said. “You’ve been a boon to me.”
She had been there to urge her brother to follow his heart with Lady Miranda. Because her brother was beloved to her, and because she wanted him to find the contentment in life that he deserved.
She had to look away from the earnest gratitude in his eyes now, however, for she was keeping a secret from him, and upholding the falsehood was more difficult by the day. Particularly with Carnis forcing her hand and the realization that she was likely carrying Richford’s child.
She swallowed hard against a rush of emotion. “You need not thank me, brother. I only want what is best for you.”
“As do I,” Mater added, sounding a bit indignant.
“Of course, Mater,” Rhys added, not just a bit of sarcasm edging his voice.
Their relationship with their mother was a complicated one. With Rhys’s impending marriage and Rhiannon’s as well, time would tell if they would be able to build on the tentative progress they had made in the last few weeks. Rhiannon could only hope that her own union to Carnis didn’t prove a misery, but she supposed that at least she had her mother’s approval.
It was grim comfort.
The carriage at last swayed to a final halt.
“We have arrived,” Rhys announced.
Rhiannon took a deep breath. This was her first foray back into polite society since the house party. She prayed that no one would recognize her.
“Cease looking at me like that,”Aubrey grumbled at King.
“Looking at you like what?” his friend asked, raising a brow. “Looking at you as if I am both thrilled and relieved that you have bathed and no longer carry the scent of last week’s fish course? Or as if I am disappointed in the cut of your coat?”
Aubrey resisted the urge to tug at his sleeves. “What is wrong with this coat?”
“The cut is wrong when paired with that waistcoat,” King decreed, ever the arbiter of fashion.
“The cut is perfectly fine,” he argued. “Did you know Riverdale had a bloody duchess he was keeping a secret from us all?”
“Do keep your voice from traveling,” King drawled, brushing a speck of lint from his own immaculate sleeve. “Of course I did.”
“How do you know everything?” Aubrey couldn’t help asking, equal parts amazed and nettled.
King gave him a serene smile. “As I’ve said, I have my ways.”
