Her first inclination was to dismiss such a ridiculous statement as nonsense. But he was not joking.
“I can think of very little we share in common, Your Grace.”
“The natural order of life has somehow failed us both,” he said. They were leaving the tall houses and manicured gardens of Mayfair behind and disappearing into a large copse of trees. For as long as she’d known, this park had been within walking distance of her home. It was a place that catered to London’s elite and yet she and her sisters had taken great pleasure in the wilderness of it.
She’d considered it her park, but had it ever been, really?
“Go on,” she encouraged him, curious as to how the natural order of life could have possibly failed a duke.
“You ought to be living your life as the daughter of a baron. You ought to have been raised with like ladies and all due respect. You ought not to have been dismissed from your teaching position if that is how you wish to live your life.” His throat moved, as though he was swallowing an unwanted emotion.
And then she understood.
“You ought to be living your life as the second son of a duke,” she said. “Not as the duke.”
He didn’t respond but dipped his chin in agreement. “I accept the duties of the title, and I will do my best to bring honor to it. But by all rights, it belongs to my brother.”
“But there is nothing to be done about it.”
“No,” he answered. “Not that my brother would accept it if there was.” His mouth twisted into something that was part grimace, part grin, making Collette think she’d like to meet his brother someday.
“Are you the same person you would be if you were not the duke?” This was not at all the conversation she’d expected to have with him today—something philosophical but also personal. It was the sort of conversation she might have had with Diana, or Chase even.
Not with a duke.
“Outwardly, no. Inside, I think yes. I have found ways to keep that person alive.”
For some reason, this answer made her heart swell. Because people were often so much more than what they showed to the world.
“How?” She didn’t care if this was too personal of a question to ask him. It was he who had opened this subject up, after all.
He glanced behind them and seemed to make a decision. “I have something to show you.” In a surprising move, he steered the two horses around in a half circle so that they were returning the way they’d come. “Fancy a trip to Bond Street?”
What if?
This was not at all what Addison had intended for this drive, but talking to her—getting to know her—felt natural,right. And shockingly, he wanted her to know him, as well.
“Would you be a different person on the inside if your father had accepted you?” he asked once he had the horses headed toward the street again.
She was shaking her head, as though she would deny him an answer but also as though she was searching for one.
“I don’t know,” she said.
She was lying.
“You said I wasn’t going to have to go to Scotland.” She changed the subject before he could press her. “What did you mean by that?”
She’d done this on more than one occasion. Changed a subject or diverted a conversation. Normally, she’d done it out of impatience or curiosity. This time, she was deflecting.
Miss Jones most definitely did not fit squarely into any one particular category he’d formed in his mind about women.
“I didn’t mean to add to your worries when I told you that your brother had risked his social standing when he presented you and your sister to theton.” This had bothered him last night. He didn’t want her to think he was manipulating her emotions in order to suit his purposes.
Because as it so happened, her guilt could be considered useful for him.
“I know,” she said.
“I just wanted to give you an honest answer.”
