Page 65 of Sincerely, the Duke
“My father said—” She stopped and rubbed her hands together restlessly in front of her again. “I know you don’t like for me to mention him, and I realize I do it far too often.”
He shook his head again and inhaled deeply. “I don’t understand this great love, admiration, and unyielding devotion you have for him. My father died before I was old enough to know him. I have little knowledge of what a father is supposed to be, or how one loves a father as deeply as you loved yours.”
“And I don’t understand those feelings,” she countered softly. “My mother died before I could know her, but I love her. At times, I imagine I remember her touch and voice and that causes me to sense her presence watching over me. Sometimes I talk to her and it comforts me. Because of those feelings, I can appreciate the devotion I sense you have for your mother.”
“That is because you are a better, more forgiving person than I am, Edwina.”
His words pierced her heart; her legs weakened. Knowing what his comment meant, anguish exploded inside her. He was not going to pardon her for the injustice he perceived she’d done to him. He was telling her shewould have forgiven him, but he couldn’t do the same for her.
All hope was gone. The weight of sorrow pressing against her chest was overwhelming. She had expected his reaction should he ever find out but hadn’t expectedherreaction and how deeply it would hurt. How could she have known she would have such deep feelings for him, or that the pain of losing him would be so great even though she had never been truly his?
It took moments to accomplish, but with her inner will, she pushed a breathy sigh from her lungs, and swallowed the lump choking her. “No matter. I can take care of myself and my sisters. I will inform the viscount’s solicitor not to enforce anything written in the marriage contract and I will not contest the annulment. You owe me nothing. My aunt has a small allowance and a cottage where we—”
In two strides he reached her.
CHAPTER 21
THE ART OF BEING A FINE GENTLEMAN
SIR DUDLEY SAMSON PEMBERTON FINE
There are times when a gentleman’s actions should speak louder than his words.
Edwina gasped as Rick caught her around the waist with both arms and pulled her tightly to his chest. She heard and felt every rapid breath he took. To brace herself, her hands landed on his upper shoulders.
His gaze bore fiercely into hers. “What in the devil are you talking about, Edwina? You, your sisters, and aunt aremyresponsibility. You belong here with me. Don’t ever speak such rubbish again.”
“Then don’t give me reason to,” she answered, glaring back at him.
If his body had not been so warm and instantly soothing, she would have pushed him away and demanded he leave the room. But, for however long she was in his arms, she wanted to feel the security and draw from the courage it afforded. Her anger didn’t change how she felt about him or how his staunch response gave her hope.
Still, she said, “I can’t stay here with you and feel welcome in your home.”
“Our home, Edwina,” he snapped quickly. “This is your home.”
Conviction filled her heart and tension ached in her chest. “You believe I am untrustworthy.”
His arms immediately tightened. “You hid the fact you were a triplet.”
“I didn’t reveal it,” she insisted hotly once again. “I will never agree I hid it from you,” she retorted as fiercely as he had spoken. “Look at me, Rick. Look at my sisters. It was in plain sight for you to see and ask if you had been curious enough about us, as was Lady Middleton, to do so.”
It was easy to see in his features that he was studying the validity of her comment. His eyes gleamed with indecision. She wanted it to inspire hope, but fear forced her to keep it at bay.
“Why did you support me if you thought I had hidden the truth from you?”
He leaned his head back and searched her face as if he couldn’t believe she had said that. “I would never leave you defenseless or open to suspicion and ridicule. No one comes after my family with gossip or innuendo and gets away with it. I will always defend and protect you, Edwina.”
The passion with which he spoke and his words touched her with the warmth of tenderness and renewed hope. She wanted to slip her arms around his neck, lay her cheek on his chest, and press her body against his, but couldn’t. She wanted to fix this rip between them but didn’t know if it was possible.
“I do hope I can gain your trust, but I must tell you that if I were somehow afforded the opportunity to do our first meeting all over again, I wouldn’t change how I handled the truth. My oath to Papa was at stake.”
With his gaze fixed on hers, arms locked securely around her, his face slowly relaxed its tense expression.Edwina felt the heaving of his chest subside and his breathing slow to a natural pace. As if following his lead, she calmed too. His chin dipped a little but she wasn’t sure whether he was giving a nod of surrender or mere acknowledgment of acceptance.
Either would satisfy her. It was clear she’d wounded him and any measure of forgiveness he gave would be appreciated.
“All right.” He spoke softly. “As you indicated a couple of minutes ago, sometimes there is only a scant difference in the meaning of words and how people perceive and understand them.”
Neither of them moved. She remained in the pulsating comfort of being pressed close to him, and, unexpectedly, he gave a tender smile. She took it as the possibility of his forgiveness for whatever error in judgment he deemed she’d made, and the hope they might move forward.
