He might have done it anyway, had they not been in the park at the time, surrounded by dozens of people. As for himself, he didn’t care a blast in hell what anyone thought, but if he had held Louisa and someone had seen them, it would have caused her even more heartache and sparked unwelcome gossip.
She was already dealing with too much. Why did he care so much about how she felt? How had she touched him so deeply, he couldn’t rip her out of his thoughts?
He’d had sorrow and regrets about the night of Prim’s death, too, but he was sure she didn’t want to hear that from him. Hellfire, he’d hated telling her anything about that night. There was no good explanation for the foolish antics of two drunken bucks. He would never tell her that her brother had died in excruciating pain, begging him to marry her.
In truth, Bray had known she’d get around to asking him about the events of the accident one day, but why did it have to be after such a pleasant afternoon of easy conversation and sweet kisses?
She said he’d told her enough, and he hoped that was true. He’d meant it when he said he could never tell her more. Why should she have to learn about the gaping wound, the pleas for help that wasn’t available, and the demented cries of pain that Bray remembered so well? She shouldn’t have to live with that. He could never tell her how frightened her brother had been when he saw his injury, or just how long it took Bray to make that promise in the end, when Wayebury knew there was no hope he’d live. Bray didn’t want her to know that the other gentlemen standing around that night had coerced him into promising to marry her.
None of that mattered now.
“My dear, my dear, my dear, please don’t tell me you are holding up that column so the building won’t fall down and kill us all.”
Bray straightened. “Good evening, Your Grace,” he said to his mother. “You are looking young and lovely tonight.”
She opened her fan and gave him a doubtful look. “And you are looking as if you are brooding. I don’t think you looked so intense even when your father died. Should I venture a guess as to why you are wearing that deeply troubled expression?”
“Am I?”
“Yes.”
“Then it’s up to you whether or not you tell me.”
“Very well. I believe it was easy for you to ignore Miss Prim and your debt to her brother before you met her and got to know her. Now that you have, you find that she is constantly on your mind, and you are trying to figure out why that is the case.”
Bray snorted a laugh at his mother’s intuitive suggestion. “It’s true Miss Prim is on my mind right now, but I don’t know that I would agree to the word ‘constantly.’”
“That’s because you don’t want me to know all you are thinking.”
“May you never know all that I think about, Your Grace.”
She laughed herself and said, “Yes, please. I don’t want to know. When I met her, I found Miss Prim to be pretty, clever, and strong-minded.”
“And you conclude this after only five minutes in her presence?”
The duchess lifted her brows. “It was more than five minutes, and over two different meetings with her. Her sister is lovely, by the way, too. And besides, you know it doesn’t take me long to make up my mind about a person, Your Grace. They either catch my attention early or not at all. I seldom give anyone a second chance to impress me.”
“I’m well aware of that.”
“I think she will do nicely to have your child.”
Bray couldn’t help but notice that his mother said “child.” Not “children” and not “son” or “daughter.” There was no warmth or love in her voice, just the word “child.” His mother expected him to have the same pretense of a marriage that she and his father had had. Bray recoiled from that thought.
“I think you should go ahead and make plans to marry her before someone else catches her fancy and steals her from underneath your nose.”
“Do you?”
“Immediately.”
It would make the Prince happy and likewise all the other gentlemen with winning bets placed on a marriage with Louisa before the end of the Season, but there was one small obstacle that none of them knew about. Louisa had to ask him to marry her, and he didn’t see that happening. Though she’d never said the words, he knew she blamed him for her brother’s death. Bray didn’t know if she could ever bring herself to get over that, or the fact that the Duke of Drakestone was a known rake.
“Why did you never live with the duke after I was born?”
Her eyes widened a little at his question. His mother was almost as good as he was at hiding her feelings. “Why should I? We couldn’t stand the sight of each other. Our parents arranged the marriage and we agreed. He had everything I wanted—a title, power, and wealth. I had what he wanted—heritage, beauty, and intelligence. It was a perfect match.”
But never a family.
“Did you ever have love?”
