“Jahleel? Please.”
“You truly want me to be a public jester and welcome you back? Remember, you left me and married Tavis. That would make me the bigger idiot, in private or in the ton.”
“Tavis is gone. You and I are still here. We could be all Lydia needs. You do still feel something for me?”
The moving, reflective speech I have in my head reduces to drivel when her legs wrap about mine. Memories of the dacha, barefoot delights. “Doesn’t matter. Never you, not with our bloodlines.”
The sad look on her face says she understands. We can’t produce a son to become the next Duke of Torrance. Though any child I have will carry the risk to future generations, with Katherine I’m guaranteed to have a babe with this sickness.
“Your barrister can figure out something to protect Lydia. And I and the princess, we can make sure.”
Her voice fades as she surely realizes that all contingencies have been considered. “Jasha, the strategist, think on this tomorrow or the next. Let me serve you and show you how well we can get along.”
She kisses my nose. “I’ll be entertaining.”
It’s all too late. I must finish this and kill off her hopes. “Katia, I refuse to give you another reason to hate me or to force you into attending another sickly body, checking for breath, waiting to bury another Charles. You were right to leave me, but we should’ve divorced or had a church separation.”
“That would’ve acknowledged Lydia to your enemies. They’d mock and destroy us both.”
“Guess I am too weak to ever be thought of as protector.” I suck in a long, final breath. “You and I were the wrong miracle. We each need someone new.”
I hold her as she weeps, then let go. “Please, no bitterness between us. No more. I ask one final time to get Steele. Have him dress me for eternity.”
Slippers still blessedly on, Katherine gets up wobbling like she’s drunk Scarlett’s tea.
“And Katia, make something great with Wilcox Coal. The debts are no more. A father’s legacy is important. I understand that now.”
“Yes, Your Grace.” She wipes her face on her sleeve and heads toward the door.
Holding up her chin, she leaves my bedchamber. I honestly hope it’s not the last time she patters away from my bed.
Chapter 16
KATHERINE—THEHALL OFRECKONING
Furious and shaken, I pace outside Jahleel’s bedchamber. The borrowed apron in my hands is damp and wrinkled from the heat of us holding onto each other.
Hadn’t I confessed to Georgina that I didn’t want him? But I just offered myself to him, like some tragic waif.
I hated that feeling of losing control, hated that my body had a mind of its own. Hate that no matter what I’ve done or said, I’m still lying to myself.
These feelings I thought I lost, they still lived for Jasha. It’s more than Lydia. It’s bigger than us, Jahleel and me.
In the dacha, I told him about Wilcox Coal. He understood when I said the task of running it was too big, that I didn’t always want to run it but would have to, since my father had no living sons. Jahleel encouraged me, instead of telling me to give it up because it wasn’t a woman’s role. Now, he tells me to go to it like it’s consolation for his not wanting me.
Scarlett yawns and comes down the corridor. She sees me and starts to run. “Is he …?”
I grab her and hold her. “The duke is well. I think we broke his fever.”
She puts her hand to her heart. “I saw you. You’re red in the face. You look panicked. I thought the duke had died.”
Scarlett takes a moment to collect herself, then she squints. “If all is well, why are you out here looking like you want to break things?”
Unwilling to explain my madness, I lock my jaws and shrug.
My sister huffs and starts to pass me to go inside the duke’s chambers. “Georgina’s still in the kitchen. Go talk with her.”
“Don’t go, Scarlett.”
