“What’s that?” His brow furrowed.
“Oh, nothing. I sometimes have trouble sleeping. That’s all.”
He stared thoughtfully out the window into the darkness. “Me too.” He smiled a humorless smile. “I don’t think I’ve slept through an entire night since…”
She watched him carefully. “Since?”
He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.” He turned to face her. “TheDuchesse de Frontenactells me you spend your time at an orphanage. Is that true?”
Nicole swallowed. Why had Louisa told him that?What else had her friend told him? “I spendsomeof my time at the orphanage, yes.”
“Why?”
She smiled and laid her head against the seat, closing her eyes. “I happen to like children.”
“I never knew that.” His voice was quiet, tender.
She straightened and concentrated on her meal. “I was much younger when we were together.”
“She also said you’re lonely. Is that true?”
A wave of anger rolled through her. Why had Louisa told himthat? Nicole hadn’t ever shared that news with her friend. Was it that obvious? She sighed and closed her eyes briefly. “I don’t know.”
“Even with thecomteby your side?” Mark prodded.
“Let’s not talk about thecomte.” She’d been thinking about Henri today during the long ride, before she’d fallen asleep. She’d written him a short letter that morning, telling him she was going back to England temporarily. She’d asked Jacqueline to ensure he received it. Of course Nicole hadn’t mentioned the fact that she hoped to returnenceinte. That would be a discussion for another time.
Henri had told her he loved her. He was a good man. The type of man she should have been happy to marry once. But she was already married and her heart did not belong to Henri. Henri was a dear friend. He’d been there for her during some dark days, but she could never return his affection the way he wanted her to. It was best that she’d left. She’d been relying on him too much of late. It wasn’t fair to him.
“Very well, then,” Mark replied, snapping her out of her reverie. “What would you like to talk about?”
She glanced over at him. His long legs were stretched out on either side of hers, the basket resting between them. His hair was slightly rumpled, but as tempting to the touch as ever, and he had an indecipherable look on his face.
“Why don’t we discuss why you stubbornly refuse to let anyone know your grandfather was a duke and your uncle is one now?” she asked.
His body tensed. He clenched his jaw and turned his head to stare out the window at the shadowed trees along the roadside. “No. Next topic.”
Why was he so stubborn? How could she convince him to tell her about his family? She contemplated the matter for a few moments while she chewed and swallowed a bite of bread and cheese. Then she snapped her fingers. “You continue to ask me about Henri, yet you aren’t forthcoming about your family. How about for every question you answer about your family, I will answer one about Henri? Up to, say, three questions each?”
Mark batted his lashes at her. “Henri? His name’sHenri?”
“Yes. There. That’s one answer. Now you must answer a question of mine.”
Mark groaned, laid his head back against the seat, and closed his eyes. “Fine.”
“I already asked it. Why are you so stubborn that you won’t use your grandfather’s name? Surely it would assist you in your political career.”
Mark poked his tongue into the side of his cheek. “Becoming the Secretary of the Home Office has nothing to do with my family.”
“But it could,” she persisted. “How do you know it might not help you secure the position?”
Mark rubbed his knuckles across his forehead and groaned again. “Fine. If you must know, I… promised my father I would never use my mother’s familial connections to get ahead.”
Nicole sucked in her breath. “Why did he ask that of you?”
Mark cocked his head to the side. “I believe it’smyturn to ask a question.”
Nicole sighed impatiently. “Very well. Go ahead.”
