“June!” Dorothy’s face was turning red. “How dare you say such a thing? Have you no care for our family’s honor and place in society? A young lady does not walk away from an offer from a Duke!”
“Mama,” May interjected, trying to temper the gathering storm. “let’s allow April a moment to explain?—”
“Explain? What explanation could possibly suffice? We were on the cusp of the most advantageous match of the year, and she?—”
“Enough, please,” April said.
She pressed a hand to her temple, willing the ache in her head to lessen. The room spun with words, none of which felt real.
“Come with me,” August’s voice broke through as he took her arm and led her out of the room.
They entered the library, and he closed the door softly behind them. April walked slowly to a chaise by the window and lowered herself onto it. For a long moment, neither spoke. Then she regarded her brother. He looked older and tired. There were lines at the corners of his eyes that hadn’t been there last autumn.
“You didn’t accept him, then?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“Mother was already assigning rooms at the country house for the wedding guests.”
April exhaled shakily. “I was going to accept. I intended to.” August waited for her to continue. “But I saw something in his home. In the lower levels to be exact. There was a man there, bound and battered. Theodore was… questioning him. It was not civilized. It was not?—”
April shut her eyes, willing her mind to forget the image. Then she took a deep breath. “He did not look like the man I thought he was.”
August’s features shifted. Something tightened behind his eyes. “Did he know you saw him?”
“Yes. He tried to explain. He said little. Too little. Or too much. I cannot recall.”
August turned to the window, his dark brows furrowed. “I do not wish to betray his confidence, April,” he said at length. “But I will say this: there are things in his past that you are not aware of. Things that would have crushed a weaker man.”
April searched her brother’s face, seeking more answers in his words and expression, wishing he had the liberty to tell her more.
“If he was angry, if he acted with violence, I assure you that it is not because he enjoys cruelty. It is likely the man deserves that treatment from Theo.”
“That may be true,” she whispered, “but I cannot forget what I saw.”
August looked intently at her. “Then perhaps you shouldn’t, but neither should you judge the whole of a man by his worst hour.”
She closed her eyes.
There, in the dark behind her lids, was the flicker of light and the shape of a man she did not know. And yet, her heart ached for him all the same.
Nineteen
“If you let me win this time, I shall know your condition has worsened,” her father said dryly as he studied the board.
April found herself in the garden the following day, seated across from him beneath a canopy of flowering wisteria. A teapot sat between them on a small table, forgotten alongside half-finished cups. Her father looked better today—his cheeks had color, his posture held less of the weary curve that had settled into his shoulders these past weeks.
She moved a knight, feigning careful thought. “You always assume I let you win.”
“You let me win when you were eight, and you let me win now,” he said with a small, satisfied huff. “You’ve always had a sentimental heart.”
April smiled. “And you’ve always known how to exploit it.”
He tilted his head, observing her closely. “I heard the servants whispering,” he said, shifting the conversation without warning. “Something about an engagement.”
April glanced at the chessboard, as if it held the words she needed. “Did you?”
“Your mother and August have been unusually quiet. That, to me, is more telling than any announcement.”
