Page 54 of The Wedding-Crashing Duchess

“I asked him why he never speaks to Sarah about her mother,” Augusta said carefully. “Sarah is curious, and she has almost no memories or stories to help her imagine the woman she never knew. Ronan did not want to answer, although he eventually admitted that he had known his first wife very little, and that he feels ashamed of how distant their marriage remained.”

Charity’s amusement disappeared.

“That must have been difficult for him to say,” she replied. “Men who are accustomed to authority often find failure harder to confess than grief, and I imagine Ronan is particularly unaccustomed to allowing anyone to see uncertainty in him.”

“He did not excuse himself,” Augusta said. “That was what surprised me. He could have said that the marriage had been arranged, that she was shy, or that neither of them knew how to begin, yet he placed most of the blame upon himself. He said he believed distance was kinder when she seemed afraid of him, although he now understands that he hid from the difficulty rather than trying to change it.”

“And what did you say?” Charity asked.

“I told him that silence had already cost him one relationship, and that he should not allow shame to create the same distance between him and Sarah,” Augusta replied. “She wants him to spend time with her, although she has been taught not to disturb him, and he appears to believe that providing everything she needs is the same as knowing her.”

Matilda’s expression became unusually serious.

“Does Sarah like him?” she asked.

“She loves him,” Augusta said. “That is part of the problem. She waits for him to enter the schoolroom, and when he walks past, she assumes his work must matter more than she does. Ronan does not know that, although I intend to tell him, and I have promised Sarah that I will arrange an evening for the three of us with stories and sweets.”

Matilda brightened again.

“You are going to make him sit and read fairy tales?”

“Yes,” Augusta replied. “Although I suspect he will read every story as though it were a legal document and then criticize the characters for making impractical decisions.”

“You should choose Cinderella,” Matilda said. “He might object to the prince marrying a woman after one dance, and then Sarah could explain that dukes have done stranger things after shorter acquaintances.”

Augusta gave her a warning look, although Charity laughed.

“I think you already belong in that household,” Charity said. “You understand what Sarah needs, and you are beginning to understand Ronan even when he does not understand himself.”

Augusta shifted uncomfortably.

“I would not claim that,” she replied. “There are moments when I think I see him clearly, and then he looks at me or asks something unexpected, and I realize that I have no idea what he intends.”

“What sort of unexpected question?” Charity asked.

Augusta looked down at her cup again.

“He asked whether I had ever been in love.”

Charity became still, while Matilda’s eyes widened with such enthusiasm that Augusta immediately regretted mentioning it.

“What did you say?” Matilda asked.

“I answered honestly.”

“And what did he say after that?” Charity asked, her voice gentler than Matilda’s.

“Very little,” Augusta replied. “He asked whether I was certain, and then the conversation ended soon afterward.”

Charity studied her face with the quiet concentration that had always made Augusta feel transparent.

“Did his question please you?” she asked.

Augusta gave her sister an irritated look. “You have become very skilled at borrowing Ronan’s methods.”

“I asked a simple question.”

Augusta placed her cup on the table.