Her throat tightened. “Say something,” she croaked.
“I know,” he said.
She blinked, not understanding. “What do you know?”
“That Glory is mine. I think some part of me knew it the moment I met her,” he said slowly. “The vicar’s pointing out of the family resemblance confirmed what I’d secretly suspected.”
She moistened her dry lips, not sure what to say.
His gaze was steady. “I asked you about it, if you’ll recall.”
And I lied. To your face.With thumping guilt, she whispered, “I…I’m sorry.”
“Why did you lie to me?”
She expected him to be furious. Instead, he was calm, inscrutable, his lack of emotion ratcheting up her anxiety more than his anger would have done.
“At first, it was to protect Glory. She was raised as Paul’s, the daughter of a gentleman. I didn’t want anything to threaten her respectability.” She swallowed. “I didn’t know how you would react and couldn’t stand the thought of her paying for my mistake.”
“Do you think I would hurt her?” The tautness of his jaw betrayed his tension.
“No. That is, not now. When you first came back, I didn’t know you,” she said candidly. “Didn’t know if you would care about Glory’s well-being. Since then, I’ve seen you with her, and I know you would not harm her.”
“No, I would not.” His hazel eyes blazed with emotion. “Nor would I hurt you.”
“I know.” In truth, she’d known for some time, yet she’d continued lying to him.
Why, oh why, had she been so stupid? Insight seared through her.
“The truth is…it wasn’t you I didn’t trust,” she admitted. “It was myself.”
His brows lowered. “Explain.”
“I didn’t think you’d want to have a child with me. With the serving maid you’d tupped on the first night that you met her.” She dropped her gaze, the shine of his boots almost blinding. “With a…No Goode.”
“It’s true that I don’t want you to have my child.”
Why are you surprised?The onslaught of pain was slowed by numbness.Of course he doesn’t wantyouto be the mother of his child.You’re a No Goode. A nobody.
His finger curled beneath her chin, lifting her gaze to his. What she saw there made her breath stick in her throat. His brilliant eyes were sheened…with remorse.
“I got you with child and then justleft,” he said gruffly. “I cannot imagine the suffering I caused you. The pain and fear. There are no words to express how sorry I am for what I’ve done. What I did because I was a selfish, irresponsible bastard out for my own pleasure.”
His apology spread through her like sunlight. Her numbness melted as she saw the genuine regret on his face, heard the harsh anguish in his voice. All traces of the debonair duke were gone. In his place was a man, his sins exposed, his repentance real.
And she knew that it wasn’t fair for him to assume the entire burden for what had happened. For two of them had engaged in that reckless, life-altering night of passion.
“It was my fault too. I went with you willingly.” There was no longer any reason to keep secrets, and she said in halting tones, “It was my…first time. Being with a man, I mean. I didn’t think of the consequences—”
Rhys’s oath cut her off. Before she could react, her cheek was pressed against the plush silk of his waistcoat, his arms tight bands around her. He did nothing more…just held her. His heart thundered beneath her ear. Given the uncertainty of the situation, it was odd how safe she felt.
“Not another word. You are not to blame, sweetheart, and, by God, I’ll not let you think that you are.” His voice was grittier than sandpaper. “The fault is entirely mine. I should have sensed your inexperience. Bloody hell, I’m a blackguard. I told myself that because you were working in a dockside tavern, you knew what you were about.”
“It’s a common assumption about us serving maids,” she said wryly.
“Common doesn’t make it right.” His hand continued its comforting stroke even as his voice dripped with self-condemnation. “I was a careless sod. If I could go back and do it over, I would.”
She tipped her head back. “You wouldn’t have approached me?”
