Page 99 of A Deal for the Duke’s Virgin

“I was so jealous of you,” he whispered, voice breaking. “Father was so proud of you. Augusta adored having a daughter.”

“That’s not fair. They loved you too.”

“I know they loved me, but I wish they could have been proud of me, too,” he sniffled. “They’d be even less proud if they could see me now. Of course, Augusta can see me, but I doubt she’ll ever forgive me.”

“You underestimate her. Augusta loves you. Once she sees you making things right, she’ll forgive and forget. Just like I will,” Thalia promised, and was surprised to find that she meant it.

He eyed her for a long moment.

“Is the Duke really such a vile man?” he asked. “I never thought… I was just so happy that you were marrying a duke that I never thought twice about the sort of life you’d lead. Augusta says that it was my responsibility.”

“I can take responsibility for myself, Jonathan. And no, Christian is not a vile man. He’s just a man. A complicated one.”

“Do you see a way to reconciliation?”

Thalia thought for a moment, then bit her lip. “I don’t know. I would like to reconcile with him, but as I said, it’s complicated. He’s complicated.”

Jonathan nodded and did not ask further questions.

They sat in silence for a few moments. A companionable silence, not the tense, angry silences they’d endured before. It felt familiar.

Thalia closed her eyes and gingerly rested her head against her brother’s shoulder. She heard him exhale sharply before he slid his arm around her shoulders.

“I love you, Sister,” he whispered.

“I love you too, Jonathan.”

“I think… I think perhaps Father played us up against each other,” Thalia murmured hesitantly. “Do you remember? He’d have us play chess, but it was all very serious.”

“I remember him lecturing me for hours whenever I lost a game,” Jonathan remarked wryly. “Do you remember footraces when we were young? The winner got scones, jam, and cream, and the loser got nothing.”

“I remember that,” Thalia sighed. “How nervous I used to get. Nothing was ever good enough, was it?”

“No, I suppose it wasn’t.”

“At least, you had a father,” piped up a small, anxious voice from behind. “I never knew mine.”

Thalia twisted around and gave the boy a sympathetic smile. “Oh, Alex, that’s sad. Did you have a mother?”

Alex nodded, coming to sit beside her. Jonathan watched, looking faintly surprised. Perhaps he didn’t realize just how comfortable the children were with her.

Thalia felt a twinge of pride.

“Tell me about your family, Alex,” she prompted, sliding an arm around his shoulders.

“Well, my mother loved me very much,” Alex began. “It was just the two of us for years and years. We were quite happy. She said that my father was a gentleman, but that was all she said.”

Thalia nodded sympathetically. It was a common enough story. Many gentlemen, even married ones, had illegitimate children and often had no intention of marrying the mother.

“Did you have a comfortable life?” Jonathan asked, flashing what he clearly hoped was a friendly, welcoming smile.

Alex nodded. “Yes, we did. We weren’t rich, but Mother didn’t have to work, and we were never hungry or cold in the winter. We had a little cottage in Scotland, but then Mother died of fever.”

Misery crept onto his young face, and Thalia felt a pang of pity.

“You must miss her very much.”

He nodded tightly. “There wasn’t really any money for me, but before she died, Mother said that I should be put in an orphanage here. She mentioned St. Sarah’s specifically, so I came here.”