“My sister’s wedding to the numbskull? I have a vague recollection, yes,” he insisted in the darkness.
“You were so determined to help Kate. You would have burned the entire house down to get her out of the marriage if she’d asked. It was… admirable.” And it had been.
I’d watched through the crack between door and frame as Mr. Summers begged his sister to leave. Swore he would manage an annulment. It wouldn’t have been easy—but if anyone could manage it, I believed he could’ve.
“She’s my sister. And Hugh is an ass.”
A startled laugh escaped my chest at the blunt assessment. “She seems happy enough.”
“Katie makes the best in any situation. She may have decided to love him, but that doesn’t mean he deserves her.”
“You cared more about your sister’s happiness than her reputation.” Xander would do anything for me. I was certain of it. But an annulment would’ve been a stretch—especially a marriage to a peer.
“Of course,” he said, so matter-of-factly.
“You have no idea how extraordinary that is, how rare.”
“Your brother would do it for you. Though this escapade may test that theory.”
“I know. That’s what I’m doing. That’s why I need your help.” The words spilled out of me, safe in the darkness.
“This is about your brother?”
I nodded. I doubted he could see the motion, but he seemed to sense it.
“He needs my help?”
Another nod.
“Da—Lady Davina—I can help you both much better if you tell me.” His voice was gentle and warm in the swaying carriage.
“I’m not being stubborn or contrarian. It’s not my secret to tell.”
“But you’re not in any danger? You’re not in trouble?”
“No.”
He released a heavy sigh and shifted once again on the seat. “All right then.”
“That’s it? You aren’t going to press me?”
“No. I just wanted to be sure you were safe,” he whispered.
“Truly?”
“When I’m cross with you, you know that is why, right?”
“What do you mean?”
“You throw yourself headfirst into danger. I’m terrified that one day I’m going to be too late. Sometimes I have dreams, horrid dreams, of that day at Decker’s. I still see that bruise on your face.”
Two surprisingly soft fingers brushed my cheekbone, the one Mr. Decker had struck. The pain was gone—had been for years—but Mr. Summers’ fingers knew the precise location of that long-forgotten ache.
Remembering himself, he jerked his hand back and I heard a heavy swallow. “Apologies, that was inappropriate.”
“No…”
“I’d never wanted to hit a man before that day. There’ve been a few since, but nothing like that. Not even Hugh, not even when Katie ran away from him. I’ve never felt… out of control like that.”
