“That was underhanded.”
“That was brilliant,” he said, brushing a speck from his waistcoat. “Though I suspect your thoughts were far from the game.”
She lifted a brow, trying for lightness. “Am I so obvious?”
He regarded her with a familiar, knowing look. “To me? Always. What has you troubled, my dear?”
April’s eyes drifted past the rose bushes to the hedge maze beyond.I cannot tell him about Loretta. Not when I’m not even certain myself.She smiled and straightened her posture. “Nothing at all. But I do have a message for you.”
“Oh?”
“From Theo. He wishes to invite all of us to Brighton for a week. He thinks the sea air will do you some good.”
Albert’s expression warmed. “Now that is a splendid idea. The sea, the breeze, the absence of all this London noise. Yes, I accept.”
At that moment, Dorothy and August appeared on the path, arm in arm.
“Good afternoon, my darlings,” Dorothy greeted, eyes sweeping over the chessboard. “Oh, you played without me?”
Albert chuckled. “The Duke has extended an invitation to Brighton. A full week by the sea.”
Dorothy’s hand flew to her chest. “Brighton? How divine. My friends will be beside themselves with envy. And just think—May and June might meet entirely new prospects. Naval officers, perhaps. Or a baronet. Or—oh!—a gentleman with a minor title but a major fortune.”
April stifled a laugh as her father muttered, “Steady, my dear. Help me inside, will you? This sunshine has exhausted me.”
Dorothy took his arm with the pride of a queen escorting her king, and they disappeared toward the house.
August dropped into the seat opposite April and studied her face. “You didn’t even see the bishop coming, did you?”
She smiled faintly. “No. My thoughts were… elsewhere.”
“Would those thoughts happen to be six feet and two inches tall, usually clad in a well-tailored coat, and prone to brooding silences?”
April laughed. “You make him sound like a gothic novel.”
“I only observe.” He leaned forward. “How are you truly?”
April smoothed a nonexistent wrinkle from her skirts. “I’m quite well.”
“Content?”
She looked down at her hands. “I know now what happened to Theo’s family. What he endured. But sometimes, I feel there are still shadows. He shows me kindness, tenderness even… and then suddenly, he withdraws as though he’s crossed a line with himself.”
She thought of the handkerchief she’d embroidered—the one he kept tucked away like a secret.
He holds onto me, and yet, he hides it. What does that mean?
August nodded slowly. “It can take a lifetime to know a person. And even then, people shift and change. Some for better. Some for worse.”
April was silent for a beat. “Did he ever… love someone? When he was younger?”
August looked faintly amused. “To my knowledge, no scandal ever followed him. He’s always been careful, reserved. He respects himself—and women, if that’s what you’re really asking.”
April gave a faint nod. “What about Loretta Roth? Do you recall anything about their friendship?”
“They were friendly, yes. But it drifted. He went to Oxford; she entered society. They lived in different orbits after that.”
“And during her debut?”
