Page 91 of Duke with a Deception
“No?” Kingham continued. “Something far more Machiavellian, then. Poison?”
She removed her hand. “He died ten years ago.”
“Ten years,”she whispered, returning to the present with a jolt.
That was the significance of ten years—a death. Ten years ago, she had lost Leo.
King wasn’t the man she loved.
Or, at least, he hadn’t been. But now, that had changed. She couldn’t deny the feelings she had developed for him during their marriage. However, had those feelings been real when they’d been built upon a foundation of lies?
The room swirled around her, and perspiration beaded on her brow. She felt hot and cold at once, dizzied and confused. More pieces of that night at the ball returned to her.
“Ah.”Kingham clasped his hands behind his back and considered her as if she were newly placed before him. “These are old tears.”
She struggled to maintain her composure, still feeling bereft. “Yes.”
“The insult he paid you must have been tremendous, for you to be weeping all this time later—and at a ball, no less.”
She dabbed at her eyes with his handkerchief again. “He never insulted me. He was my betrothed.”
“Did he have a name?”
“Leo.” She sniffed. “Lord Leopold Douglas. He was the second son of the?—”
“Duke of Morgan. Yes, I did know him,” Kingham intervened, frowning. “A pleasant fellow if I recall correctly, though quite a bit younger than I, given my ancient years.”
He had known.King hadknownwho she was crying for that night. He had even been acquainted with Leo.
That was why King had such an odd reaction to her locket, she realized suddenly. The locket hadn’t been a gift from him. It had been from Leo. But King had allowed her to persist in the mistaken belief that it came from him. That the forget-me-notpressed inside had been his gift to her on a walk they’d taken together. Or had he even known what was inside the locket?
She doubted very much that he did. It certainly explained his request that she remove it when they were alone and his insistence upon lavishing her with new, replacement jewelry. He hadn’t wanted the reminder of Leo.
She pressed a hand to her aching heart as the rest of that night rained through her mind in a torrent unleashed…
“How old are you?”she asked King, curious.
He was handsome and elegant, tall and strong. She had once witnessed him punting on the lake at Riverdale Abbey and had admired his muscled form despite herself. He was decidedly not ancient as he had claimed.
“Four-and-thirty.” He brushed at his coat sleeve lightly. “You see? Terribly old.”
“You are only six years older than I am,” she pointed out. “I don’t think myself particularly wizened just yet.”
Kingham studied her somberly. “And so you aren’t, Lady Verity. Which is why hiding yourself in this alcove is such a crime.”
“In such a crush, I scarcely think I shall be missed,” she demurred, grateful for the distraction he presented.
“But how am I to leave you here, now that I know it’s where you’ve chosen to roost?”
“You make me sound as if I am a nesting hen.”
“Forgive me for my lack of polish.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, for Kingham’s polish was quite legendary, and he no doubt knew it.
“You are forgiven, of course,” she allowed. “Would you like your handkerchief back, Your Grace?”
“I think it should be yours now. Only think of how easy it shall be, should you need one again.”
