Page 64 of Sincerely, the Duke
She exhaled a choppy breath and moved restlessly. “I was under no obligation to tell you anything about an occurrence as private as a lady giving birth. I told you we are sisters, Rick,” she said passionately, wanting him to understand what she was feeling then and now. “One born after the other only minutes apart rather than years. Nothing of what I have ever said to you is untrue.”
“But that doesn’t answer my first question!” he exclaimed with a rising voice. His eyes gleamed as he brushed a hand through his rich brown hair and paced at the foot of her bed as if he were a haunted man. “I can’t understand why you didn’t trust me with this information.”
Edwina flinched at his show of emotion. She believed she had angered him before but never this badly. That didn’t mean she could back down from what she’d done or how she had handled it.
“If I had, it would be the same as if I were admitting we aren’t normal. That we are different… abnormal, or oddities to the rest of the world. And we are not. Furthermore, I daresay you have never questioned the birth of any other lady.”
“I’ve never had a reason to,” he contested earnestly. “I had a right to know this.”
“No, you didn’t,” she answered just as firmly. “Papa said some people would consider us curiosities and freaks of nature. We would be teased, shunned, or forced to think we should have our hair combed the same way, dress the identical way, and be on display in traveling shows for people to pay to see us and laugh—”
“Stop, Edwina.” He spoke quickly, heavily as he came from around the foot of the bed toward her.
His body tensed with outrage as he stopped near her. She thought he might grab hold of her. Her chest heavedand so did his. Had he really raised his voice that loudly to her?
“You don’t know what you are saying.” He ground out every word with an incredulous stare. “Most people don’t think that way anymore. We have entered the nineteenth century and more people are civilized and being educated.”
Her passion was as steamed as his and she was in no mind to give mercy. “Have you not been to a May Day Fair or carnival in the past few years? There are always sideshows—”
“Don’t say more about that, Edwina,” he said angrily. “Not one word. I don’t want to hear such madness from you. You are not an oddity.”
Her breathing eased and so did his.
“Your mother believes in superstitions and almost fainted when the countess asked about the rumor of triplets,” she reminded him, shoring up her strength.
“She only gasped. Your aunt has almost fainted twice since I’ve known her. It’s what some ladies do.”
“You are educated,” she insisted fervently. “You have read the accounts of history and know how people have behaved toward those they perceived as different from them no matter what that difference might be.”
“I amwell educated, Edwina,” he said in an intensely low voice, which seemed to be filled with warning. “That is not the point. What others think or don’t is not important to me now or ever—youare. This has to do with trust. As your intended, as your husband, I had the right to know. You should have trusted me.”
Edwina felt the prickle of her eyes watering but blinked the sensation away. She would not let him see tears. “You wouldn’t have married me,” she admitted honestly. “You would have gone to the next lady on your list.”
The lines around his eyes, the breadth of his forehead and his mouth wrinkled into a tight frown. “You don’t know that and neither do I.”
Her words had stunned him and he had hesitated before answering. That was a telltale sign her words were true. He wouldn’t have taken the chance on her if he had known.
“I do know. You want an heir.”
“Of course I want an heir! That’s why I married you.” His words were loud, honest, and desperate.
She flinched.
“But that’s not all. After I talked with you that first day, Edwina, I didn’t want to marry anyone but you.” His expression and tone were softer. “I have always been willing to take my chances with you, but you didn’t trust me enough to tell me something of great importance about your past. I’ve always had trouble trusting people and I don’t know if I can trust you are telling me everything now.”
The strength of his words tore at her heart. Being a duke, he probably did wonder who he could trust. She couldn’t refute that and even understood it but had to defend herself. “I know,” she said in a softer tone too. “Yet, I’m sure you haven’t told me everything about your life either. All the details about how you were born, what you have done. There are probably things in your life you might not want to tell me unless I specifically asked.”
He was visibly upset but quiet. His eyes took on a faraway sheen and she knew in that moment therewerethings about himself he couldn’t tell her. Things she might like to know—would consider it her right to know. So, they both had ghosts in their pasts that they would have rather stay buried.
“No one could be expected to tell everything and you know that,” he answered, his anger seeming to ebb.
Edwina went on, knowing she had to strengthen herclaim. “I am told wealthy peers always have mistresses. I assume you have one. Is that something you should have told me?”
“That is completely different, Edwina,” he defended, sounding and looking calmer than just moments before. “Gentlemen don’t talk about things like that with ladies.”
“But you think I am to discuss privy things ladies discuss with you,” she answered, hoping she sounded stronger than she felt.
He remained quiet. The pensive expression returned to his face, and she felt her accusation to be true.
