“Power,” she interrupted, curious as to why he spoke as if he was no longer the duke.
“The wealth and the privilege it afforded me—”
“Political leverage,” she said in a whisper.
“The means to help my tenant farmers...” When Katherine didn’t interrupt, he glanced over at her.
“I’m not sure Whyte was always very good about that,” she murmured, “but Jonathan...” She inhaled softly. “Jonathan is.”
Thomas stared at her as he swallowed. “I... I met him. When he took his seat in the House of Lords.” He furrowed a brow. “He doesn’t bear much of a resemblance to Whyte, but I didn’t give it a thought.”
She shrugged. “I don’t think anyone did, since they both had dark hair and similar jawlines,” she said, a wan smile appearing.
“Do you think he resembles me?”
She regarded him a moment as she angled her head to one side. “He has your eyes,” she said softly.
Thomas dipped his head. “Do you think there will ever be a time we can tell him the truth?”
Katherine winced. “I doubt it.”
“Would it be all right if I... if I made friends with him?”
She gave him a watery grin. “I certainly wouldn’t object.” Noticing how weary he had become, she added, “But let’s talk more about it on the morrow. We need to get you upstairs and into a warm bed.”
“Will you be in it, too?” he asked, lifting his feet from the tub to place them on the bath linens.
“For warmth? Or for something more?” she asked, suspicious.
His gaze darted to the side. “Can’t it be for both?” He pulled on the stockings Jackson had left for him on the hearth, sighing as their warmth enveloped his feet.
Katherine gave him a grin. “Why don’t we start with warmth?” she suggested. She stood and helped him to stand before the two slowly made their way up the stairs.
