“But of course, we do. Of course, they are. I just don’t see how you are interested in any of this.” She pressed her fingertips into her forehead, released a deep breath, and then for the first time since he’d returned to London, she looked at him. Really looked at him. In fact, she stared at him with that vulnerable look he’d become accustomed to over the course of their travels together two years ago. “Why didn’t you tell me who you really were? Did you mean to make a fool of me? Was it all some sort of game to you?”
Chance winced. Finally, she was willing to listen to him and they were surrounded by a room full of gossips. He wasn’t keen to discuss the reasons for his marriage, nor what the two of them had done, the intimacy they’d shared, in a room where they might be overheard. Women were far more vulnerable to Society’s opinions.
And yet he had her full attention.
Taking her arm, he drew her toward an unoccupied window bay. Took a deep breath and… Nothing. “I don’t know why…”
Why hadn’t he told her the truth? Damn his eyes, he’d been biding his time for weeks and now that he had her attention, he had no idea how to answer this particular question. “You did not see me as Chauncey, as a duke. I was simply… We were friends, weren’t we? Could you have been as comfortable with me as your traveling companion if you’d known I was a duke?” He winced. “It was nice, to simply be Mr. Bateman. I knew that when you looked at me you saw the man––Chance––not the duke.
“Mr. Bateman,” she corrected him. “You did not give me permission to address you as Chance until that last day…” She moved her gaze away from him to stare out the window. “I trusted you. I believed in you.”
“I know. I wanted to explain but…” And suddenly he felt shame for the situation he’d gotten himself into. Not shame for protecting his sister, for punishing the man who had hurt her, but shame for pretending he was free. He had never made any promises to Aubrey, but he had wanted to. And he had acted on more than one occasion as though he might do so. Without knowing his circumstances, she’d had every reason to believe it was possible that he could change his mind.
Which he had, in part. He’d made love to her.
Aubrey closed her eyes. “Ilovedyou Chance.”
Loved.
Past tense.
He’d known this. He’d guessed at the time, but he’d never been absolutely certain. To hear the words now, but relegated to the past, he kicked himself a thousand times that he hadn’t managed all of this differently.
“Two years have passed.” She was incapable of hiding the pain in her voice. “For six long and lonely months, I hoped. I prayed. I bargained with God and then I convinced myself that you would come back to me. Iyearnedto see you. I wanted you, Chance. I dreamt of you. And every time I saw a man with your build, a man with copper-brown hair and an easy swagger, or heard a French accent, I was certain it was you. But it was not. It was never you, Chance. In addition to being disappointed the morning you left; I was to be disappointed another thousand times afterward.
“It took almost a year for me to accept that you had abandoned me in truth, purposefully. If you had wanted to be with me, you would have stayed. At the very least, you would have given me some sort of explanation.” She closed her eyes. “You would have told me goodbye.”
Each word pierced his heart like a sharp dagger. “I am so damn sorry, Aubrey. I didn’t have a choice. I—”
“You married.” Her eyes flew back open. “Was that the obligation you needed to fulfill in such a hurry? Was it even your birthday or was that a lie as well?”
“It was my birthday. My betrothed’s father gave me until my thirtieth birthday to decide my fate.” He lowered his voice when he felt a few curious gazes land on them. “At the time, I didn’t know if I would ever be free, and I didn’t want you waiting for me forever. I left that morning knowing you would hate me. If I had waited until you were awake, saying goodbye wouldn’t have been any easier.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Easiest isn’t always best.”
“Ambrosia, darling.” Dandy Dick appeared behind her, an abundance of lace draping over his wrists. His elaborately embroidered turquoise waistcoat was buttoned in a manner that did not look very comfortable. Made taller by standing in pumps with bulky heels, the blighter placed one hand on Aubrey’s tiny waist while reaching the other around to offer Chance. “I didn’t realize that you knew His Grace.” He smiled amicably.
Dandy Dick’s handshake was soft, weak. Chance could not believe Aubrey was seriously entertaining attaching herself to such a man.
HisPrincessesimply rolled her eyes. She would do this while Chance was the only one who could notice the societal transgression. “Thedukeand I met a few years ago. Vaguely. It was nothing. In fact,” she added cruelly. “I hardly even remember the occasion.” And then she turned to smile up at the dandy. “Are you ready to commence tonight’s reading?”
All Chance could do was smile at the slight. She’d been dazzling two years ago, tonight, she was absolutely magnificent. Bravo for the set down, he wanted to applaud her. Absent doing just that, he met her gaze and winked.
“Indeed.” Aubrey said, scowling over her shoulder at Chance but making some progress dragging her dandy away. “It’s been a pleasure seeing you again.Your Grace.Enjoy the readings and feel free to see yourself out once you’ve grown bored. There’s no need, you see, to say goodbye. Far too difficult.”
“I’ve a new piece I’ll be reading tonight. It’s—“ Dandy Dick began but Aubrey did not give him a chance to finish.
“Come along, Richard. You don’t want to keep your admirers waiting.” She didn’t look in Chance’s direction again. In fact, she avoided him rather successfully for the remainder of the evening.
Chance took that opportunity to watch her. She’d matured since he’d last known her, possessing a confidence she’d lacked before. She was not as naïve, however. She’d erected a barrier of sorts, whereas he remembered the openness she’d had with everyone they’d met at the festival in Joseph’s Well. He couldn’t help but wonder if he was to blame.
Chance swallowed hard. Watching her like this was a bittersweet torture. He would much rather have been the man standing at her side. They belonged together.
“Just a friend, eh? I didn’t realize gardeners were such aficionados of the arts. I definitely did not realize they possessed such finery as this.” A sultry voice interrupted his thoughts at the same time he caught a whiff of heavy perfume. Chance dragged his gaze away from Aubrey to appreciate the exotic beauty standing beside him. Raven hair, black eyes and ruby red lips, the woman who’d leaned close to him seemed vaguely familiar. When his eyes strayed downward, he realized she was the neighbor who had been watching him almost as closely as he was watching Aubrey.
Chance narrowed his eyes in her direction. “And you are?”
“The Contessa Philomena Reynaldi.” Upon hearing such a name, Chance lifted his brows skeptically. “Surely you’ve heard of my husband. He is from Spain. Emigrated just before the wars.”
