Henry did not press. “He courts her quite publicly. One might almost call it devotion.”
“Devotion?” Lucas gave a short, cold laugh. “His devotion is theatre. His eyes follow her even while he speaks to others. That is not affection, Henry—it is calculation.”
“You sound certain.”
“I am.” Lucas’s tone was sharper than he intended. He steadied himself. “It is too convenient. His interest began only after…” He stopped.
“After what?” Henry prompted.
The realisation struck him with sudden clarity. “After her family’s disgrace served his allies well. And now, as whispers begin to shift, he reappears—gracious, charming, well-timed. It reeks of strategy.”
Henry studied him quietly. “And yet it disturbs you.”
Lucas turned sharply. “You suggest—”
“I suggest nothing,” Henry said mildly. “Only that you are more troubled than you wish to admit.”
Lucas exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “Very well. You observe correctly. She has borne more than her share of society’s cruelty. She deserves honesty, safety—not to be used for ambition.”
Silence fell again, broken only by the hiss of the fire.
At last, Henry said softly, “Lucas.”
Lucas met his friend’s gaze reluctantly.
“You care for her.”
The words left no room for evasion. Lucas turned away. “I should not.”
“But you do. You may even love her.”
“Yes.” The admission escaped him like breath. He could not deny it any longer.
Henry leaned back, arms crossed. “You surprise yourself more than you surprise me.”
Lucas gave a humourless laugh. “I had not meant to speak so plainly.”
“Then perhaps you needed to.”
Lucas braced both hands on the desk, staring down at the scattered papers. “A moment’s folly could ruin her. Last night—” He stopped abruptly.
Henry raised a brow. “Last night?”
Lucas bit back a curse. “I forget how easily you draw confession from me.”
“You kissed her.” It was not a question.
Lucas said nothing, but the silence confirmed it.
Henry’s expression softened. “And she?”
“She did not turn away,” Lucas admitted hoarsely. “But it was reckless. Had we been seen—”
“But you were not.”
“That changes nothing. Her reputation—”
“Lucas,” Henry interrupted gently, “you are not a man to trifle. If you feel as I believe you do, then her reputation may not be endangered, but rather assured.”
