Justin stood and made his way to the sideboard to pour her a glass of brandy. “I assume you’ll tell me why you’ve come if I wait long enough,” he said as he crossed back to his desk and handed her the drink.
Veronica took the glass and eyed him carefully. “I should think it would be obvious. I’ve come to ask you what you intend to do about Madeline Atwood.”
Justin’s brows shot up. “What do you know about Madeline Atwood?”
Veronica took a large sip of her drink before rolling her eyes at him. “I know she’s the young lady you danced with at the Hazeltons’ ball last year and the same young lady you went looking for this year. I know that until yesterday she was employed as Eliza’s maid. And I know she’s no longer here because of something to do with you. Shall I go on?”
“No,” he barked. He didn’t care to hear any more and was alarmed by how much Veronica knew already. He sighed. That was the curse of growing up with three sisters and a mother. They all knew everything and told one another every detail. It was obvious. This is what Eliza had meant when she’d said there was only one thing left to do…set Veronica on him.
“Well,” she pressed. “What do you intend to do about her?”
He took a deep breath and expelled it. “There is nothing left to do. She is no longer employed here.”
Veronica took a sip from her glass and gave him a sweet smile. “I was hoping you’d say you intend to offer for her.”
His forehead knitted together. “Offer for her? Have you gone mad?”
She arched a brow. “Oh, Justin. Don’t be tedious. We both know she’s the first young lady you’ve given a toss about in, well, ever.”
He groaned and scrubbed a hand through his hair. “So that means I should marry her, then?”
Veronica took another drink. “Do you deny you have feelings for her?”
Justin expelled his breath and sipped from his own glass while he took a moment to think. Blast and damnation. A hundred thoughts chased themselves around his mind. Why had Madeline never told him she was the daughter of a baron? She’d gone out of her way to keep him from learning her surname. She’d been quick to change the subject when he’d asked. Had she not trusted him with the truth? And why did that fact cause his chest to ache more than anything else?
If her father hadn’t died, she would have been here, in London, having had her own debut. She’d have been just another one of the ladies in the ballrooms that he never paid any attention to. He probably wouldn’t have given her a second look. Oh, that wasn’t true. There had always been something about Madeline. Something that drew him to her like a moth to a flame. Something alluring and intriguing. And baron’s daughter or lady’s maid—he didn’t give a good goddamn which—he missed her. Desperately.
None of that mattered, of course. First, what sort of arse would he be if he asked her to marry him now? It would seem as if she hadn’t been good enough for him until he realized she was a lady. A lie—she was far too good for him no matter what her station in life.
And second, and far more importantly, Madeline might be a baron’s daughter, but it didn’t make him a suitable husband. He was still the same man he’d always been. He was still the son of his awful, philandering father and nothing would change that. Nothing ever could. So, yes, he’d spent the day contemplating his options, and he’d already made his decision. A decision which he related to his nosy sister. “I’m not going to offer for her.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” Veronica replied, tapping the top of her glass with a fingertip. “Do you or do you not have feelings for her?”
He stood and swiveled toward the window, downing the last of his drink. Damn it. Why wouldn’t Veronica let this go? “Feelings, yes. But what do feelings amount to? Nothing. That’s what. You know what Father did to Mama. I refuse to put a woman through that. Especially not Madeline.”
Veronica stood and carried her glass to the window, where she stood beside him and stared out into the darkness. “I had a feeling you would say something like that.”
“You know me so well?” he said with a humorless chuckle.
She shrugged. “As well as anyone. And that’s the other reason I’ve come.”
“Why’s that?” he groaned, already dreading the answer.
“You once helped me by telling me hard truths I needed to hear, and I’m about to return the favor.”
Oh, no. Justin wasn’t about to listen to any ‘hard truths.’ Absolutely not. “You can save your breath—”
“I’ve no intention of saving my breath.” She raised her dark brow in the same manner Mama did when she wasn’t messing about. “Justin, you’re not Father and you never will be. You never can be. You’re caring and thoughtful and respectful and kind. You’re a good man. Father was a selfish lout.”
Justin shook his head, his nostrils flaring. “How can you say that? I’ve spent my entire adult life indulging my every whim, including when it comes to women. A lot of women, Veronica. There’s not a chance I’d be a good husband.”
She shrugged. “So, you’ve enjoyed yourself as a bachelor. You’re hardly the first to do so. There’s no harm in that. But there’s also every chance you will be a wonderful husband, when you decide to commit to someone.”
Justin wanted to crush the brandy glass in his hand. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he growled.
Veronica turned sharply to face him. “I most certainly do. Listen to me. I’ve known you my entire life. You’re not the sort of man who’ll cheat on his wife. You’re not the sort of man who’ll hurt someone you love. It’s not in you, Justin. Father was a liar. I’ve never known you to lie. Father was a cheater. I’ve never known you to cheat. Father thought only of himself. I’ve never known you to be selfish or unkind. You’ve never done any of the things Father did to hurt people around you, so why do you think you’ll be like him with a wife?”
Justin clenched his jaw. His sister was slowly driving him mad. He closed his eyes. “I don’t know that I won’t.”
