He glanced at her, surprised by how plainly she could read him. How she could shine a spotlight on a topic he tried to ignore the existence of regularly.
He cleared his throat. “Youare jealous of Harcourt and Rook?” he teased, trying to break the tension as they entered the park.
She hesitated and stepped off the path to look up at him. “Er…yes. Not of their relationship to each other, as I think you are. But…but the one between each of them and my sisters.” She blushed from her hair to the fetching inches of skin that disappeared into her gown’s neckline. “I have never admitted that out loud to anyone.”
“Things have changed for you in these last few months,” he said softly.
She nodded. “I always knew that when we each married, it would be different. We wouldn’t be together all the time. But I thought we wouldn’t…perhaps we wouldn’t care about our husbands that much. Arranged marriages are often loveless, and our father never looked out for our hearts as much as his own designs on elevation. I thought we would still turn to each other for support and friendship. But…”
“But the new couples are in love,” he encouraged as gently as he could, since he could see the tears that had flashed into her eyes.
“Deeply,” she said with just a touch of bitterness. “And I keep telling everyone who will listen how happy I am. And I am, for they deserve to be in love. But I am…jealous. Both of the fact that they don’t need me as much anymore, and of the lives they will live that I will never get a chance to experience. You must think very ill of me.”
He chuckled even as he brushed away the single tear that had escaped those beautiful green eyes. “I could never think ill of you,” he promised. “No matter what.”
Her little smile was so lovely that his heart ached. Then she shook her head. “At any rate, I recognize the emotion because it’s so close to me. Things changed for you, too. And I think you are a little jealous that Rook is now working alongside Harcourt. That they are becoming…friends.”
Ellis shifted. He hadn’t allowed himself to put it so succinctly but there it was. “Rook and I used to talk about ‘those fops.’ Couldn’t understand ‘those fops.’ Never wanted to be one of ‘those fops.’ Wasn’t it fun to fool ‘those fops.’ And now he…I can see he respects Harcourt. And yes…in my darkest hour…when I let myself get maudlin…I suppose I do…feel…a little…jealous.”
He drew the last word out and met her gaze. She was nodding, and then she caught his hand. “Rook loves you. It is evident in every word he says about you. Things may change, but the Earl of Harcourt will never truly take your place in his life.” She smiled. “We are quite the pair.”
“Yes,” he said with a sigh. “Aren’t we, though.”
She looked as if she would say more, but her eyes went wide. “I think the Duke of Coningburgh and his daughter just passed by over there.”
Ellis shook his head. He had been so caught up in the grace Juliana had offered him that he had all but forgotten why they were here together. Like a fool, he’d lost track of everything that could kill them both. He glanced over his shoulder and saw a gentleman and lady walking in the opposite direction. “That’s him?”
She nodded. “Yes. Now we will approach. You are dressed very nicely. I meant to compliment you earlier. But be very careful in your address and—”
He held up a hand with a grin. “Angel, I have been training for these moments for years. Trust in me.”
She tilted her head in disbelief but didn’t resist as he guided her forward toward their quarry. The duke and his daughter had stopped by the side of the path to examine a rosebush planed on the perimeter, and as they began to pass by, Juliana put on a false smile and called out, “Lady Lydia, we seem to be making a habit of these meetings.”
The two turned, and Ellis watched their reactions. The young lady smiled at Juliana, but there was obvious concern in her gaze. The duke’s mouth grew tight. Annoyance. Was it because they were being interrupted? Was it for some more sinister reason? He couldn’t yet tell.
“What a pleasure,” Lady Lydia agreed. “Wouldn’t you say, Papa?”
“Your Grace,” Juliana said with the slightest of curtsies. “And may I present my friend, Mr.—”
“Mr. Francis Pettigrew at your service,” he said, putting on an American accent.
Juliana stared at him as if he had sprouted a second head, but she rallied admirably. “Er, yes. The Duke of Coningburgh, Mr. Pettigrew. And his daughter, Lady Lydia.”
Coningburgh was looking at him with increased interest, and Ellis stifled a smile. Good. “A pleasure to meet you both.”
“And how are you acquainted with Miss Shelley, Mr. Pettigrew?” the duke asked.
“I’m in shipping, Your Grace,” he said with another boisterous laugh. “And was passing through Harcourt not that long ago. I was well met of Mr. Shelley and his lovely daughters and decided to forgo my travel back home in order to spend a little more time taking in the countryside and all its pleasures.”
Lady Lydia tittered. “How lovely.”
“Yes, my lady. Very lovely.” He lifted his eyebrows toward her and she tittered again. God, some of these women made it too easy. A few well-chosen words and he knew he could have that pretty necklace off without her even caring she’d been taken.
Of course, when he looked at Juliana, she seemed less than impressed at that. She tilted her head at him with pursed lips. He squeezed her hand a little harder and said, “Perhaps you’re looking for some endeavors to invest in, Your Grace?”
The duke looked a bit taken aback by the uncouth and direct statement. One Ellis could get away with in his character of American Shipping Magnate. “Er, well, I don’t really—”
“Or perhaps your sons might take an interest,” Ellis pushed. “I’ve heard of their daring from many corners. Especially the younger. He is rumored to be interested in endeavors outside of the usual.”
