Page 67 of A Deal for the Duke’s Virgin

Two blurry figures trudged past, one of them carrying a lantern. Deep in conversation, they didn’t even glance up at the conservatory. They both wore the same clothes, as far as Thalia could tell. Ugly yellow coats with black trim. That was what Lady Pembroke’s footmen wore. They walked past without a second glance, and she let out a long, ragged sigh.

At last, Christian released her. Her waist felt a little cold without his arm around it.

“I shall call on you tomorrow regarding the notes,” he declared shortly, stepping back.

The movement cast his face into shadow, so she couldn’t get a good look at his expression.

“Not tomorrow,” she said.

He snorted. “Why, are you busy?”

She placed her hands on her hips and glared in the direction of what she hoped were his eyes. “Yes, I am, actually. I am spending time with someone I truly care for.”

The atmosphere shifted almost imperceptibly, and he leaned forward.

“Oh?”

She tilted her chin. “I am talking about the orphans at St. Sarah’s. I volunteer there as often as I can.”

He seemed to relax at that.

“Even better,” he uttered brusquely. “I imagine there’s more privacy at the orphanage than there is in your house, with your brother and stepmother watching our every move. I shall meet you there, then.”

Without giving her the chance to agree or disagree, he turned away and strode to the door. Unlocking it, he slipped out into the night and left it swinging.

Thalia stared at the open door, heart hammering.

What on earth have I gotten myself into? More to the point, where will it end?

CHAPTER 19

Sister Ethel appeared at the door, looking anxious and wringing her hands together. “My Lady, there is a guest for you. A gentleman,” she added in a panicked hush.

Thalia, who had been reading a storybook to the children, bit her lip hard. “I see. Well, show him in.”

“Shall I take the children away?”

“Certainly not. He can help me entertain them.”

Sister Ethel looked horrified at this idea but nodded obediently and walked out of the room.

Thalia sat in silence for a moment, heart thumping.

He really came.

She had assumed that Christian would not come. After the events of last night, she was not entirely sure he’d come. After all, how were they supposed to act naturally around each other after that? She could still remember the sharp, dizzyingly peak of pleasure.

The novels had also never mentioned that.

“Lady Thalia?” one of the children spoke up. “Are you going to finish the story?”

She swallowed. The story she was reading to the children was not, in fact, the one written on the page. The trustees, who loved to interfere in every aspect of the orphans’ lives, had decided that even the stories they told must properly inculcate gratitude. So, the book was not exactly a book of fairytales, but a book of morals.

It had been written by a reverend who apparently decided that the Bible did not, after all, carry messages of kindness and love but just so happened to perfectly align with his own morality. In the foreword, he claimed that orphans, widows, and poor people were being punished for unmentioned sins and should hurry to remedy their poor spiritual condition.

The story that Thalia was meant to be reading was about two orphans. One was a good, pious girl who liked nothing more than reading her Bible, praying, and giving up all of her things to other people. The other was a selfish, lazy girl who had the audacity to wish to be treated well and not to be starved, beaten, or otherwise abused. She also read novels. The author seemed to consider that a great failing.

Thalia had gotten to the part where both girls were placed in a household where they were starved, beaten, given the most awful jobs, and, quite frankly, tortured. The pious girl was grateful for her place and thanked God daily, whereas the selfish girl plotted to escape.