“I left bitterness behind a long time ago,” she said, not sure that was strictly true. “But I cannot allow you to continue treating me with hearty delight as your long-lost sister, Charlie, without forcing you to remember what you have so conveniently forgotten.”
“It was not easy,” he said, sitting back in his chair and dropping his eyes from hers. “But I was just a boy, and suddenly I was faced with duties and responsibilities and a whole life and world I had never even dreamed of.”
She said nothing. She knew he spoke the truth, and yet…
And yet all that did not excuse the cruelty of his final rejection. And how could she tell herself that she had let go of the hurt and bitterness when she had hated, hated,hatedall men with the title of duke since then?
“Sometimes,” he said, “I have wondered if it was all worth the sacrifices I was forced to make. My dream of a career in the law. You.”
Again she said nothing.
“I behaved badly,” he admitted at last, getting abruptly to his feet and crossing the room to look out the window. “Do you think I did not realize that? And do you think I did not suffer?”
She did understand. She had always understood the inner turmoil he must have lived through. But some things, if not beyond forgiveness, were at least beyond bland excusing.
She had destroyed that last letter, along with all the others that had preceded it, a long time ago. But she believed she couldstillrecite it from memory if she chose to do so.
“If it is any consolation to you, Claudia,” he said, “I did not have a happy marriage. Mona was a shrew. I spent as much time from home as I could.”
“The Duchess of McLeith is not here to speak up for herself,” she said.
“Ah,” he said, turning to look at her again, “I see you are determined to quarrel with me, Claudia.”
“Not quarrel, Charlie,” she said, “merely have some truth spoken between us. How can we go on if we allow ourselves distorted memories of the past?”
“Wecango on, then?” he asked her. “Will you forgive me for the past, Claudia? Put it down to youth and foolishness and the pressures of a life for which I had had no preparation?”
It was not much of an apology. Even as he made it he also made an excuse for himself. Was youth less accountable than age? But there had been many years of close friendship and a few of love and one afternoon of intense passion. And a year of yearning love letters before the final one that had broken her heart and shattered her world and her very being. Perhaps it was foolish to base her whole opinion of him now on that one letter. Perhaps it was time to forgive.
“Very well,” she said after a few moments of silence, and he came toward her to take one of her hands in his and squeeze it.
“I made the biggest mistake of my life when—” he began. “But never mind. What shall I do about this invitation?”
“What do you wish to do?” she asked.
“I wish to accept,” he told her. “I like the Ravensbergs and their family and friends. And I want to spend more time with you. Let me come, Claudia. Let me be your brother again. No, not brother. Let me be yourfriendagain. We were always friends, were we not? Even at the end?”
To which ending did he refer?
“I lay awake much of last night,” he said, “wondering what I ought to do and realizing how my life was impoverished the day I left your father’s home and you. And then I knew that I could not accept the invitation unless you said I might.”
She had lain awake much of the night too, but she did not believe she had once thought of Charlie. She had thought of two people sitting beneath a willow tree beside a lily pond at night, his coat warm from his body heat about her shoulders, his arm holding it in place, her hand in his, not saying a word to each other for almost half an hour. It was a memory every bit as intense as that of their kiss in Vauxhall Gardens. Perhaps more so. The latter had been about lust. The former had not. She did not care to think of what ithadbeen about.
“Go to Alvesley, then,” she said, drawing her hand free of his. “Perhaps we can create new memories for the future while we are there—kinder memories.”
She felt a lump form in her throat when he smiled at her—an eager smile that reminded her of the boy he had once been. She had never even dreamed that that boy could be cruel. Was she doing the right thing, though? Was it wise to trust him again? But it was mere friendship he asked for. It might be good to be his friend again, finally to put the past behind her.
“Thank you,” he said. “I will not keep you any longer, Claudia. I will go back to my rooms and send an acceptance note to Lady Ravensberg.”
After he had left, Claudia looked at the library book again. She did not open it, though. She smoothed her hand over the leather cover until the dog jumped up beside her and set his head in her lap.
“Well,Horace,” she said aloud, patting his head, “I feel as if I am riding a gigantic rocking horse of emotions. It is not a comfortable feeling at all for someone my age. Indeed, if Lizzie Pickford will not come to Lindsey Hall with me, I believe I may well go straight home to Bath after all and to the devil with Charlie—if you will pardon the shocking language.Andthe Marquess of Attingsborough. But what on earth am I to do about you?”
He raised his eyes to hers without moving his head, and sighed deeply while thumping his tail on the sofa.
“Exactly!” she agreed. “You males all think yourselves irresistible.”
Some cousins of Lady Balderston’s had arrived in town from Derbyshire, and Joseph had been invited to dine with the family and accompany them to the opera later.
