Uneasily, Hurtheven turned to Ash. “Weallhave things for which we must atone.”
“Iwillhold you to your promise,” Ash replied.
“I would expect nothing less. In fact, I was on the verge of proposing marriage just before you arrived. But the situation is a delicate one.”
“A delicate one,” Ash repeated. “Has she even told you about?—"
“A proposal!” Chev interrupted. “That iswonderful—in the truest sense. As in, I am left in utter wonder! I wish you both happy, my friend.”
“Of course,youdo.” Ash stood up and glowered menacingly. “Once Hurtheven’s married, presumably, he’ll no longer be dangling after your wife.”
Hurtheven shoved back his chair. “What iswrongwith you, Ash?”
“If you’re too arrogant to realize that she hasn’t?—”
“Sit down, both of you.” Chev interrupted again.
Ash pursed his lips but complied. Then, after a wary glance between them, Hurtheven returned to his seat, too.
Chev wiped his mouth. “Ash, mentioning Hurtheven’s attachment to Pen was uncalled for. All that has long since passed, as you know. Besides, Pen was merely a safe object for his distant idolatry...”
Hurtheven frowned.
“...Anyone can see he’s devoted in a different way to Mrs. Montrose. Hesaidhe intends to propose.” Chev glanced significantly at Ash. “The lady, I believe, should have the final say. It is not for us tointerfere.”
“Indeed not!” Hurtheven exclaimed. “Iloveher, Ash. I believe she loves me.”
“Love,” Ash repeated. His hard expression softened slightly.
“Yes, love!” He didn’t care who knew.
“Ifshe has earned your trust,” Ash replied slowly, “thenI will wish you happy, too.”
Ash kept his silence as Chev poured a round of port. With a guarded expression, Ash even joined in Chev’s toast. Hurtheven drank deeply. God only knew what had gotten into his friend, but, for the present, Ash appeared to have reined in his ire.
Hurtheven’s mind drifted back to Hera, ravishing in lavender. Finally, he understood Ash and Chev’s occasional impatience to be alone with their wives. Only a few more hours...
“Youshouldmarry, Hurtheven,” Chev said. “It’s high time you became someone else’s problem. Don’t you agree, Ash?”
* * *
Hera froze outside the door to the dining hall.
She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. She’d only returned below stairs because she’d forgotten her shawl. She decided she needn’t retrieve the garment after all, and slowly backed away. All she’d distinctly heard was the Duke of Ithwick saying, ‘You should marry, Hurtheven’.
But those words had been enough.
Godric would, of course, marry.
She’d seen his list. She’d known the prospect of his nuptials to be an inevitability. Her reaction, then, had been a surprise. A creeping sense of dread, followed by her heart’s violent protestation. Even worse, her mind had instantly reordered the phrase.
‘You should marry Hurtheven’...withoutthe implied comma.
This afternoon, when Godric had uttered the word love, she’d finally understood the depth of what she felt for her duke. Heavens!Howshe wanted him to behers.
Shewasin love. And she wasn’t even sure when this catastrophe had happened. What was sure was a sudden, passionately covetous feeling toward the duke.
When he married, as he must, would she become like her namesake—through love, driven to bitter destruction?
