“And she convinced everyone to bundle up and tromp through the snow to the schoolhouse,” Emma reminisced. “There was a pianoforte there, and Thea played Christmas hymns for us all night. Everyone sang along, laughing, forgetting everything but being together.”
Thea smiled. “It turned out to be a fine Christmas after all, didn’t it?”
“Thanks to you. Which is why you must never doubt your strength,” her sister said.
“Emma has a point.” Her expression thoughtful, Marianne said, “Moreover, Tremont’s concern about your being ‘delicate’ may say more about him than you. For instance, what do you know about his first marriage?”
Only that it was perfect.
“From what little Tremont has said, Lady Sylvia was the ideal wife and mother,” Thea said with a pang. “They were very happy, I think.”
How can I compare with such a paragon?Her throat constricted. If the true source of his reservation was his devotion to his dead wife, then Thea could never win his heart. It was ironic, really. Because what she loved about him—the driven intensity of his passion—might be the very thing that kept them apart.
“Your description matches theon ditabout Lady Sylvia. From everything I’ve heard, she was the epitome of female virtue. The fact that Tremont has never remarried or taken a lover adds a special shine to her halo.” Marianne cleared her throat. “You do know how she died?”
“Yes, in childbirth.” The moment Thea said it, the realization struck her. “Goodness. Do you think that is why he’s so concerned about my delicate health?”
“That is a question for him, my dear,” Marianne said.
Resolution rooted in Thea. Whatever his reasons, she was tired of being led back and forth like a toy on a string. She was arock, according to her sister; from here on in, she would lay the foundation for her own future.
“I’m going to talk to him,” she said, “and I’m going to get answers once and for all.”
“Spoken like a true Kent,” Emma said with approval.
Chapter Sixteen
At midnight, Gabriel arrived.
Thea watched as he closed the door of the conservatory soundlessly behind him. Anticipation lived in the scent of ripening citrus, the hushed secrecy of dark foliage. Moonlight streamed in through the glass that made up three of the room’s walls, plating his hair in silver, giving his eyes a predatory light. He prowled toward her, large and sleek. He’d thrown a black brocade dressing gown over his shirtsleeves, and his casual sensuality spun her senses.
She pulled her flannel wrapper tighter around her body.If you can slip a note under a man’s door, you can carry on a rational conversation. Don’t lose nerve now.
Straightening her shoulders, she said, “I’m glad you got my note. I was afraid you were asleep.”
“I was up.” His expression unreadable, he gestured to a wooden bench surrounded by potted orange trees. “Would you care to sit?”
“I’m fine standing.” She took a breath. “We need to talk, Gabriel.”
His gaze was dark, unfathomable. “Yes.”
’Tis now or never.“I must know where we stand. I told you once before you needed to make up your mind about our relationship,” she said, proud of how calm she sounded, “and I meant it. I don’t deserve to be toyed with.”
“No, you don’t. You deserve better.” His chest surged. “Much better than what I have to offer you.”
Exactly what she’d feared he’d say. Her nerves tremored like the freshly hammered strings of a piano, but she bolstered her resolve.Don’t fall apart now. Get your answers.
“Because of the Spectre?” she managed.
He gave a grim nod. “I thought I could put the past behind me, but I was wrong. What I was, what I did—it will never leave me. And I won’t have you getting hurt because of it.”
“What you did, you did for your country. In my eyes, that makes you a hero.”
Surprise flared in his eyes; it was gone the next second. “You have no idea of the sins I committed. Espionage is an ugly business. The things I did—it would disgust you. Make you want to run from me as fast as you could.”
She didn’t back down. “What did you do?”
“I killed,” he said. “Dozens of men.”
