Richard expelled a deep breath. “I have no idea. But her loyalty toward her brother is undeniable.”
“I really think you ought to ask her if that is still the case after what she has just discovered about him.”
“Perhaps—”
A knock at the door cut Richard off. Eying Spencer, he got to his feet and crossed to it. He hadn’t been expecting anyone. “Yes?” he inquired.
There was a brief hesitation, and then, “It is I, Mary.”
A warm shiver rolled through him at the sound of her voice. He glanced toward Spencer and found that he’d risen to his feet. Pushing back the warning that Mary’s reputation was at stake by her being here, he opened the door and quickly ushered her inside. Her eyes widened at the realization that they weren’t alone.
“I should leave,” Spencer said as he took a step forward. He tilted his head in Mary’s direction. “A pleasure, my lady.”
And then he was gone, leaving the two of them completely alone in Richard’s bedchamber. For a long moment, they just stood there staring at each other until Richard finally collected himself and gestured toward the chair that his brother had just vacated. “Please have a seat.” He waited for her to move, to dislodge the awkwardness between them before saying, “Would you care for something to drink? The sherry is quite good.”
Lowering herself onto the chair, she nodded. “Thank you. I would like that.”
Stiffly, he crossed to the sideboard and prepared her glass which he offered her shortly thereafter. “You are aware that you risk ruination by coming here? If someone were to discover your presence in my bedchamber—”
“I know that my brother has challenged you to a duel, which means that lives are at stake now. My reputation seems insignificant by comparison.” Her eyes met his, staying with him while he took the seat across from her.
“Just so you know, I do not plan on killing him tomorrow.” He spoke slowly, gauging her reaction. “Indeed, I would like to prevent such an outcome.”
The statement did not seem to ease her concern. Her expression remained stark as she reached for her sherry, sipping it before setting the glass aside and saying, “I appreciate that, but... I am actually more worried about you. If anything were to happen to you...” She looked away, her teeth puckering the soft flesh of her lip as she bit into it.
Richard felt his heart rate increase. “If anything were to happen to me?”
“It would destroy me,” she whispered, her voice so fragile that it sounded as though it might break.
“What about your brother?” He held his breath, fearful of her answer.
She gave a small shrug. “He has wronged you in the most despicable way. I cannot support his actions.”
The statement eased some of his concerns. Still, he needed to know that things were once again right between them—that her coming here meant that they might at least stand a chance. “So you are not angry with me anymore?”
“Of course I am!” Raising her head, she looked at him directly. “Do you have any idea how deeply your words wounded me today?”
“I was unprepared to discover that you are Carthright’s sister.” A ridiculous excuse. One that he knew she neither wanted nor needed, so he dropped to his knees before her and said, “I have wronged you in the worst possible way by betraying the trust that you placed in me when you gave me your heart. You are innocent, Mary, and I am sorry for what I said to you.”
Her eyes seemed to strain against the onset of tears. “You should have told me what happened sooner so I would not have had to discover it like this.”
He knew she was right and yet he’d had his reasons. “I feared you would not be able to accept what I was doing and that you would judge me harshly for it. Mary, I could not allow his actions to go unpunished. I hope you can understand that.”
“I do.”
Lowering his head, he kissed her hands before raising his gaze to hers. “Forgive me. Please, I cannot bear the thought of losing you.”
A weak smile touched her lips. “The gift you sent to my room this afternoon... it was remarkably thoughtful—the most perfect thing in the world!”
Her voice trembled as she spoke and Richard’s heart swelled with renewed hope. “It is the first song in the opera that I have begun working on, and because of the story, I thought it might be the best way of telling you how I feel.”
“It isourstory, is it not?”
Seeing the tears that clung to her lashes, he nodded. “I have drafted an outline, but I am no longer certain of how it will end.”
“Perhaps you should ask yourself how you wouldlikefor it to end.”
“Happily, I hope.”
