Page 48 of Duke with a Deception
But he was a selfish bastard, so he brought her hand to his lips for a worshipful kiss instead. “Thank you, angel. Don’t give up on me just yet.”
“Never,” she vowed fervently.
King could only pray that she meant what she said. That she would never give up on him, even if she one day realized exactly the kind of man he was. Even if she discovered the grave sin he had committed in wedding her and taking the place of her dead beloved.
CHAPTER 8
“When will the new orphanage be completed?” King asked over dinner that evening.
Verity faltered in the act of spearing a bite of chicken on her fork, dismayed.
It was the same inquiry he had made before Emma had arrived. Given the interaction between the two of them earlier upon his ignominious arrival, she had a feeling she knew why he wanted to know.
“Not for another few months, I should think,” she replied. “Such an undertaking requires a great deal of time. To say nothing of the cost. After losing everything in the fire, the Children’s Foundling Hospital has desperately needed to raise funds. We are doing everything we can to aid them, but as you can imagine, that amount of largesse does not simply appear with the snap of one’s fingers.”
“Naturally not,” he agreed, once more his smooth and elegant self. “I would be more than happy to donate a tidy sum to the worthy cause.”
They had left the subject of his daughter behind them for the moment, along with the intensity of his grief. She believed himwhen he said he had spent the night alone. The haunted look in his dark eyes this afternoon had been undeniable.
“That would be incredibly generous of you,” she said cautiously, “and so very much appreciated.”
“Selfish of me too.” He flashed her a smile that reminded her just how potently charming he could be. “The sooner the orphanage is rebuilt, the sooner I shall have my peace restored.”
“Your peace,” she repeated with misgiving. “Whatever do you mean? Surely you don’t wish for Emma to return to the orphanage when it is rebuilt. Not after what happened yesterday.”
King sliced a bite of chicken with measured, elegant motions. “Of course that is what I want. That was the plan all along, was it not?”
That had been his plan. It had never been hers. Verity had hoped that in time, he would grow fond of Emma, and he would realize that having a child in the household would be a cause for joy. But now, she wasn’t so certain if he would alter his opinion, especially knowing what little she did about the daughter he had lost.
She felt a bit selfish even asking for Emma to stay with them. But Verity also couldn’t shake the feeling that she was responsible for the girl. She loved her as if she were her own. King must have loved his daughter as well to have suffered such pain after her death. To be suffering still.
Not that his distress could be presently seen. He was dressed impeccably, once more his suave, dapper self. Seeing him earlier in his unguarded state had been a shock. She’d never witnessed King without so much as a lock of hair out of place. At least, not that she could recall.
“Was it not the plan?” King pressed, jolting her from her thoughts and making her realize that she had been silent for too long.
“Perhaps that was the plan before she ran away,” she allowed hesitantly. “But surely you must agree that this is the best place for her. What if she were to run away from the Children’s Foundling Hospital?”
“She is fortunate enough to have survived her last adventure. She would be foolish indeed to attempt another.”
She set down her fork entirely. “But we can give her a home. She can be happy here.”
“No,” he said instantly. “Her home here is a temporary one until she can return to the orphanage.”
“She has no future there.”
“Nor has she one here.”
Verity tried again. “I can well understand your grief. Emma isn’t meant to take Daphne’s place.”
His expression became shuttered, as if a door had closed and he had sealed himself behind it, out of reach. “I don’t wish to speak of it.”
Verity tried to quell the disappointment that rose within her. It was likely too soon for her to broach the subject with him.
“Forgive me,” she told King. “I didn’t mean to cause you further injury.”
“Then perhaps we ought to let this discussion rest and enjoy the meal,” he suggested, his voice tight.
“Yes, of course,” Verity agreed, trying to tamp down the emotions that threatened to rise.
