She inhaled sharply. “I hadn’t thought...butof course.” She shivered, glad that his exploits had not caused him harm. Those of his adult years, however... “Some dangers,”—she sighed—“aren’t readily apparent until one has truly entered the thick of things, are they?”
They walked on in silence until they’d drawn close to the outer ramparts.
“Were you speaking metaphorically?” he finally asked. “Or have you, of late, entered into an...experimentwhose dangers were not readily apparent?”
Up ahead, the children passed through the gate before disappearing into the bailey.
“Ihave been, from the start, well-aware of the dangers.” Why did he have to radiate so much heat? “I fear, however,youhave forgotten them.”
He greeted the gatekeeper as they passed through, but before they reached the castle’s inner courtyard, he stopped walking.
“Dangers abound, I know. Love will not fail, though our courage might.”
Love.
He’d saidlove.
The word landed like a cannonball in her heart, hollowing out every other feeling.
Love. What would she be if she denied that truth? Because love was the true meaning of the dissonant note of pain ringing in her ears.Breathe.Her heart hammered.Breathe.Her throat dried.Breathe.
Then, from the courtyard beyond, Fee let out an unholy squeal.
Without a further word, she and the duke broke into a run, circling around the bend in long, unison strides. The kite had been abandoned in the middle of the gravel and both children were running as fast as they could toward a standing carriage.
The silhouetted figures of the dukes of Ashbey and Ithwick stood just outside the post chaise’s open door and the Duchess of Ashbey crouched down beside the steps with her arms already outstretched.
“Damnation,” Hurtheven cursed as he slowed his pace.
Hera’s breath came heavy and hard. She placed a palm against her breast, willing her heart to slow. Between the run, the gauntlet he’d just thrown, her sudden fear for the children, and the surprise of seeing the newcomers, she hardly knew how to parse her emotion.
So, she donned the armor of her profession, tucked up her hair, and strode toward her employers with a fixed, bright smile on her face.
Hurtheven angled toward the coach, too. When he reached the door, he lent his hand to Penelope as she exited. “Forgive the lack of welcome,” he spoke to Penelope, but included the rest with a brisque nod. “I was not expecting you.”
“We wrote to you the day we set out.” The Duchess of Ashbey fixed a significant gaze on Hera. “But, using postilions, we must have neatly beat the mail.”
Torn between the hope of good news, and the dread of discovery, Hera cast her eyes down to the gravel.
Never play at piquet, my dear—the duke had once warned.
Something, she was sure, would give her away. Which of her secrets and to whom she would unintentionally reveal them was simply a matter of time.
“Mrs. Montrose,” Ashbey greeted, “I trust everyone has behaved, including this reprobate?”
Hera was helpless to prevent blood from creeping up beneath the skin of her neck and into her cheeks. “Certainly.”
“We...” Hurtheven cleared his throat. “...That is to say, the children and I... Well, we’re all delighted to see you, aren’t we, Mrs. Montrose?”
We!Hera dared not give him a scolding glance. “Shall I go inform Mrs. Whitby?”
“I daresay their arrival has been noticed,” Hurtheven said under his breath.
“Come”—Delmare tugged on his mother’s hand—“Ihaveto show you my frog.”
Not to be outdone, Fee took hold of her father. “And I have to showyoumine.”
“Youbothhave frogs?” Ashbey asked.
