“I know.” Harold set his glass upon a coaster. “It’s why I wanted to speak with you. She and I, together, we’ve had long discussions, on a few occasions, when one of us has been unable to sleep. And I’ve tried to tell her how much my freedom means to me. But I don’t think she realizes…” Looking a little uncomfortable, he glanced back up. “Afterward, will you tell her for me, that she well may have saved my life? Tell her that, aside from my own mother, she’s the only woman I’ve ever felt close to? But mostly, tell her thank you.” He choked a little at his words.
Dev took a sip of his own drink. “I will.”
Harold waited a few minutes before he spoke again. “I’ve also been thinking about St. John.” He never referred to his brother by his first name. At some point, the wedge of separation had grown so great between the two of them that Dev wasn’t certain it could ever be removed. “St. John is going to remember the cave.”
Dev nodded. Back to the details. This was more comfortable ground for both of them. “We need to bring him in on the plan.”
Harold spoke into his glass, deep in thought. “He’s never accepted me for who I am. I will forever be a deviant to him. A reminder that all is not perfect in this great ducal family.”
“But he worries for your safety,” Dev felt compelled to add, although Harold had the right of it. St. John would always worry most for the reputation and dignity of the Prescott legacy. “Would you speak with him about it, or would you prefer that I do?”
Harold took another sip of the amber liquid. “Would you think me a coward if I said I’d prefer you do it?”
“You’re no coward.” Dev would put that notion to rest forever.
“Yes, he needs to know. And he will understand why I wish to leave. He’ll agree with it, in fact. Dev,” he added, then, with furrowed brows, he returned to the earlier subject, “when I’m gone, you are going to marry Sophia, aren’t you? Because something is wrong with her family. Something about them that frightened her. She hasn’t told me anything, but I don’t want her sent back to them, just in case I am right about this.”
Dev could put this doubt of Harold’s to rest quite easily. “I am, Harold. You need not worry about her safety.”
And hearing these words, Harold nodded. “You love her.”
Dev would leave his cousin with no doubts whatsoever. “I do.” And then, “I’ll speak with St. John tomorrow. When do you wish to stage the accident?”
“If St. John doesn’t pose any difficulties, the day after. The sooner we do this, the better.”
This was Dev’s opinion as well.
“I’ll tell Sophia tonight. It will be the last night that we pretend to sleep together as a married couple. She has informed me that the night before the accident I ought to be with Stewart…” Harold flushed. He’d likely not intended to reveal something so intimate. But then he added, “She promised tohandleher maid.”
Perhaps, tomorrow night, Dev could go to her. She would need reassurance. She would need comfort.
Hell, Dev was simply mad for wanting her.
And then out of nowhere, Harold winked at him, almost as though he had read Dev’s thoughts. They both burst out laughing. Harold was in a particularly uncharacteristic mood. Life was never simple.
Dev spent the remainder of the afternoon reminiscing with a cousin he’d practically written off years ago when he entered the military. Conversing with him today, knowing what he faced, Dev was glad he’d taken this chance to know him as an adult. As youths, they’d practically been brothers.
He would lose him again, he realized. Due to the gravity of the situation, it would be just as though his cousin were to die, in truth. Harold could not return to England. Ever. It would be dangerous for him to write, to send word. He was even going to have to take on a different name.
Dev laughed at a particularly embarrassing memory Harold had brought up.
He would enjoy his cousin’s company today.
Tomorrow he would speak with St. John.
* * *
Sophia was not,in fact, taking tea with the duchess and her sisters that afternoon. For Rhoda had only recently arrived, and Sophia was eager for the two of them to catch up in private. They’d conversed briefly that morning, but with Rhoda’s mother and sisters present, and then later, in Sophia’s chamber, Penny had hovered. They’d been able to talk about silly, inconsequential matters, but they could not really share. And since Sophia had been spending so much time working with Harold on his swimming, she’d missed out on her afternoon walks with Peaches.
That afternoon, then, was the perfect time to devote to Rhoda and Peaches. They would avoid the beach. Sophia’d had enough of that to last a lifetime. She didn’t wish to think about Harold’s jump today. It was becoming too morbid, too depressing, too deceitful…
Too real.
Sophia removed Peaches’ leading string, allowing her pup to scurry about unimpeded. Unless they came upon a rabbit, Sophia knew Peaches would stay nearby.
Sophia was curious… “How have matters proceeded… with St. John?”
At this, Rhoda clasped her hands beneath her chin. “I don’t wish to jinx it,” she answered, “but I believe he has become somewhat enamored of me.”
