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“I sleep. My work is different. It is a duty, not a passion.”

“And yet you let it rule you, to the negligence of other duties,” she said, pushing his own words back at him.

Rose looked on, not sure how a discussion about mushrooms had led to this.

Dunstan suddenly looked pale. “I should go,” he said to Marianne. “I will see you on Sunday at church.” With that, he made his bows and left.

Rose stood too. This was a family matter.

When the door closed behind her, she could hear heated voices through the door. She was tempted to place her ear against it and listen in, but the butler and footman were ushering Lord Dunstan out the door.

In a way, she wished they would all have their say about Max. It was obviously a topic they needed to discuss. It was weighing on all of them. She would not be surprised to be awakened tomorrow and told they were all leaving for Ashtonvale. Where would that leave her? She needed to stay in London to sort out her financial independence, but she could not stay here by herself with the duke.

She went to bed but found that sleep evaded her yet again.

*

Edward stormed out of the parlor. His sister was getting too bold. She knew that topic was off-limits, and that she stayed here in this house by his good graces. In fact, she was lucky he didn’t toss her out or banish her to Ashtonvale, where she could live as she pleased without annoying him.

The best scenario would be if Dunstan hurried up and married her. He would get the special license himself if it would hurry proceedings.

He wanted to yell the truth at them so that they would know why he did what he did, but he did not want them to treat Max any differently. Despite what they all thought, he did not hate the child. They thought him heartless, but that was untrue. In fact, he wished he could turn off the guilt, the remorse he felt. The loneliness that consumed him. The darkness that threatened to destroy him.

Despite owning the whole damn house, he went to the only place that felt truly his and slammed the door shut. His heart was pounding so loudly he could hear it in his ears. He put his hands over them, but it did not diminish the sound. He went to the sideboard and poured himself a drink, but his hands were shaking too much and most of it spilled over the edge of the glass. His head did not feel right, and his chest was tight, and he found himself gasping for air. He stumbled to the uncomfortable chair by the fire and tried to breathe. Was this how it ended? With harsh words and clenched fists? He could sit no longer and staggered to the door. He made his way to Rose’s door and didn’t bother to knock, but turned the handle and entered. She was at the window and turned towards him.

“Edward? What’s wrong?”

He kicked the door closed behind him and managed two or three steps towards her before his knees gave way. She ran over to him and knelt beside him.

“What has happened? Should I call for the doctor?”

He tried to speak, but he was struggling to breathe at all.

“It’s all right,” she said. “I’m here. Look at me. Just slow down your breathing. That’s right.”

He looked at her, knowing he must look like a madman, but she took him into her arms and soothed him as she would a child. He did not want soothing. No, that was a lie; he very much needed soothing. This had never happened to him before, and he was not sure how he would get through it if she were not there. If he were to expire, then at least it would be in her arms. And that was more than he deserved.

Eventually, his breathing became easier, and he became drowsy with exhaustion. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice sounding odd and raspy.

“Do not be sorry. I am just glad you are all right. Perhaps we should summon the doctor anyway.”

“No. I do not want anyone to know about this. Please,” he begged, and he had never begged in his whole life.

She cupped his cheek with those incredibly soft hands. “Is it so bad for them to know that you have feelings too?”

“I cannot…” He could not finish the sentence.

She hugged him closer. “Then I will not either.”

The relief he felt was strange, as if he had just been saved from drowning but refused to admit he could not swim. She stroked his hair, and his eyes fluttered closed.

“You are a stubborn man, Edward Ashton. I cannot begin to fathom the secrets you hold so tight. The things you feel you cannot reveal to anyone. So afraid they might find out you are human after all.” She kissed his forehead, and he lifted his head to look up at her.

“Thank you,” he said, and he meant it in so many ways.

They sat like this for a few more minutes, with her cradling him in her arms. He never wanted to leave, but he could not stay either.

“I should go to my room.”