“A while.”
“Does anyone else?”
“I think Kate suspects. She’s smarter than Hugh realizes. Hugh is getting close. If he hasn’t gotten there yet.”
I merely nodded. Even with that surprise, I was still unprepared for his next question.
“It wasn’t an accident was it?”
I knew exactly what he was referring to, but I questioned to buy time. “What wasn’t an accident?”
“Father. It wasn’t an accident.”
Tom and I had many uncomfortable conversations throughout his youth. None of them came close to preparing me for this.
“No. I never wanted you to know. I’m sorry, Tom.”
His only response was a resigned swallow. He was thoughtful for a moment before he shocked me yet again. “You saved us all from ruin, and you asked for nothing in return. You saved a viscounty that was never going to be yours, and you never said a word. You let two young boys grow in blissful ignorance of their father’s flaws. You let a widow who hated you remember her husband with pride. You’re a much better man than you give yourself credit for, Michael. Don’t let anyone tell you that you don’t deserve the woman you love, not even yourself.”
My heart ached with affection for my brother, and no small amount of pride. This entire conversation was becoming far too sincere for my comfort. I was forced to break the tension. “What happened to the lad who used to throw his peas at me?”
“He’s still here, disrespecting the furnishings,” he replied before throwing his feet on my desk with a laugh. I shoved them off in mock irritation just as Augie returned with a tentative knock.
“Well?” Tom questioned.
“Everything is ready.”
“What’s ready? You forgot to fill me in on the plan.”
Augie’s answering grin was too mischievous for my comfort. “How do you feel about attending Lady Charity James’s ball tonight?”
“Charlotte,” Tom corrected.
“What?”
“Lady Charlotte James. Not Charity.”
“I thought it was Charmaine,” I interjected.
“It’s definitely Charlotte,” Tom insisted.
“It doesn’t matter,” Augie interrupted, frustrated. “You’re going to the chit’s ball tonight.”
“What on earth for?”
“The show.”
Twenty-Eight
JAMES PLACE, LONDON - JULY 1, 1814
JULIET
The July nightair was unexpectedly chilled. My gooseflesh, however, was from an entirely different cause. I had expected I would spend this entire week in a state of indecision and dismay. Instead, once I made my choice, I never wavered even the slightest.
Tonight, I stood outside the Grayson carriage, flanked by Tom and Augie. Anna had dressed me in the periwinkle gown I had worked on for months, and flecks of gold from the embroidery shone in the lamplight, flickering. My wedding gown. She had pulled my curls into a romantic loose style with matching gold pins and forget-me-nots. Though neither was strictly in-fashion, the effect was enchanting, and I felt lovely.
Grayson House had emptied in recent days with Hugh remaining in the country with his mother and Kate taking to Lincolnshire to assist her sister with her confinement. Though she worried about leaving me alone in town, I was even more sure of my decision in this moment than I had been a week ago. A part of me had been desperately holding out hope for Michael’s presence, as though he would be summoned merely by my need for him. He would appear and press a comforting hand to the base of my spine, supporting me. I had not seen or heard from him since that rainy day in Kent, and his absence was a palpable loss tonight.
