She placed her hand over his. Somehow, he felt safe and secure. Daniel had never met their mother, and Marianne was the closest to a mother figure he’d ever have. His stepmother, Lady Grisham, was far too cruel to feel like one.
“Look at me, Daniel.”
Daniel didn’t even realize that his eyes had lowered again. He always met people’s gazes; they were the ones who lowered theirs.
“You have spent enough years running away,” Marianne continued. “You’ve devoted yourself to working hard not only for your estate, but also for your family. Whenever our younger sisters needed help or guidance, you were there for them. It’s time to focus on showing them the man I am deeply proud of. Iwant to see you illuminated by chandeliers, and not just by the moonlight, where you may be off investigating. Oh yes, I know.”
Her eyes shone with a silent plea. Those eyes cornered him more than any words could.
Daniel was about to open his mouth to decline the invitation, but nothing came out. Instead, he exhaled. Defeated, but at the same time relieved, as if he had been freed from a prison of his own making.
“Fine. I will attendoneball. I also can’t promise to stay for long,” he said grudgingly.
Marianne looked delighted, clapping her hands together. For a moment, she sounded like a girl and not his sister, who was three years his senior.
“Thank you, Daniel! I will tell the others about it. You will not regret it, dear brother. It will be the event of the Season!”
Perhaps that was what he was afraid of—that it would be the event of the Season. He watched his sister glide toward the door, looking more buoyant than when she had arrived. She stopped just when her hand hovered on the knob and then turned toward him.
Of course.
Her face had softened. One could say it was tender. Very few people would use that word to describe Marianne.
“I want you to know, Daniel, that even though you’ve become a marquess and then a duke, you are still my little brother. Even though we are now more than three decades older, I still remember you as that playful little boy who wanted to explore the world beyond the gates. You do know that. Right?”
“Of course, I do,” he said gruffly.
Looking satisfied, Marianne blew him a playful kiss and left.
Daniel was again left in the silence of his study and with the constant noise in his head. He turned his attention back to the map of Shoreditch. Perhaps it was fatigue, but somehow the lines looked blurry.
He constantly felt like an impostor and not the real Duke. He would not have inherited the title if not for the tragedy. He also didn’t deserve Marianne’s kindness. He was always on the edge of a precipice. He was in greater danger than being exposed to fawning mamas at a ball.
Strangely enough, it was not Moses Gordon and the man who had possibly paid him to burn his family alive that concerned him at that moment.
The ball?
It made him think of a woman in a dark alley. He wondered whether he’d see her again under the lights of chandeliers or by the moonlight.
Chapter Seven
“Smile, dear Lucy,” Joshua whispered, his breath close to her ear. For some reason, she found it unsettling. “You look like you are about to walk up the gallows rather than attend a ball. While I tell you to be careful with the gentlemen, I don’t want the ton to think I have been mistreating you.”
“I am simply tired, Joshua,” she lied.
In truth, she was anxious, her eyes scanning the guests, dreading a particular face. He should be here, should he not be? It was his sister’s ball, but he was not there for Daphne’s.
“I think I’m tired of coming here only to do what? Go home, without having anyone to commit to come calling?”
Joshua grunted at that. Of course, he knew what the past balls had been like. He had been the main cause of failure in each attempt at a courtship. Still, Lucy hoped she could enjoy theball. The Duke and Duchess of Oakmere spared no expense in preparing their home for it, with stunning chandeliers and beeswax candles. It almost felt like thecrème de la crèmewere here.
If there was ever a chance to find a husband, it would be this ball. If only she could escape Joshua’s close watch. Anywhere, no matter how beautiful, could be a prison if he did not change his ways.
Her brother’s hand remained on her elbow. His grip was light, but enough to show her that he did not expect her to steer away from him. He guided her through the crowd and glared at every gentleman who seemed to stare too long at her.
“Ah! Stonewynn! Finally, there he is.”
Lucy’s heart raced. That was him. The Duke of Stonewynn, Victoria’s brother.
