“I do feel the need to cool off,” Bray mumbled under his breath.
He got to his feet and then helped her to stand, and they started walking in the direction that Miss Gwen and Mr. Standish had headed. They remained silent for a time. Bray assumed that, like him, Miss Prim was thinking back over their passionate embrace.
“My goodness,” she said, breaking the silence for the first time. “Look at all the carriages on that pathway in front of us. I’ve never seen so many bunched up together like that. Why is it so crowded?”
“Rotten Row is usually well traveled this time of the afternoon.”
“Oh,” she whispered, and stopped.
Bray halted, too, and looked over at her. She stood transfixed to the spot and stared at the road as if seeing something for the very first time. He couldn’t imagine what had mesmerized her so suddenly. She didn’t face him, but he could see that her eyes started glistening. His stomach knotted. His chest tightened.
His gaze scanned the area, looking for whatever had caused her to stop. He noticed that her shoulders shook for a few seconds, but she made no sound as she stared straight ahead.
Was she silently crying?
“Louisa, what is it?” he asked, wanting to touch her but knowing that there were too many people too close to them to risk it.
“Rotten Row,” she whispered softly. “That’s where my brother died, isn’t it?”
Oh, hell!
Chapter 20
… when he shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven so fine
That all the world will be in love with night
And pay no worship to the garish sun.
—Romeo and Juliet,act 3, scene 2
An unexpected shiver shook Louisa. Tears clouded her vision, and her breathing slowed and became so shallow that she felt light-headed.
“I’m sorry,” the duke whispered. “I should have remembered.”
“No, it’s all right,” she assured him, unable to keep the quiver out of her voice and hating the overwhelming sorrow that had engulfed her. “No reason for you to remember,” she said, trying to deny the pain she was feeling. “It’s been over two years. I’m sure you’ve been to the park many times since that night.”
“But it’s the first time you’ve been here. I should have been more intuitive and considerate.”
Louisa kept looking at the line of carriages and riders moving along the path, and willed the tears in her eyes to dissipate before rolling down her cheeks. She wanted to cry so badly, her throat ached and her chest heaved, she was determined not to show any outward emotion.
She didn’t want to look at His Grace. She was afraid if she did, she might throw herself into his arms, bury her face into his waistcoat, and cry for the loss of her brother. And not just for Nathan but for her father and mother, too. She had such a strong urge to seek the comfort she’d never received from anyone when she heard of Nathan’s death. She hadn’t been able to cry, because she had to be strong for her sisters. They needed her support more than she needed a shoulder.
She swallowed past a tight throat. Her whole body hurt from holding back her tears and fighting the grief that threatened to consume her.
The duke must have known what she was going through, because he stayed quietly beside her until she found the strength to say, “I have to admit that with the distraction of the younger girls being with us in the carriage, and worrying about Gwen, I failed to realize it until you said Rotten Row. That’s the lane you were racing down when the accident happened, isn’t it?”
“Yes. You don’t know how many times I’ve wished we hadn’t raced that night.”
“Probably fewer than the times I’ve wished it, Your Grace.”
“That goes without saying.”
“Did you know there was a young lady in our village waiting for him to settle down and marry her?”
