Page 82 of Duke with a Deception
“Oh, but she has drafted some recommendations.” Grinning, Sybil held up yet another folded paper, this one thicker than the last. “I do believe this is her invitation list—or several pages of it anyway.”
“It looks long enough to be a Shakespearean play,” Verity commented unkindly, somewhat frustrated over her mother’s tendency to hold the reins.
“Only think, the more people there are in attendance, the more funds we shall be able to raise for the Children’s Foundling Hospital,” Sybil pointed out in her practical way.
“King tells me that I see the best in everyone, but I am convinced that you are far more adept at that talent than I am,” she drawled.
“He is not wrong about you seeing the best in everyone.” Sybil cocked her head. “You are always like the sun, shining brightly on everyone. Speaking of Kingham, how are the two of you faring with Miss Emma in the household?”
“We are all doing well. Naturally, it has been entirely new for us all. But I do think we are finding our footing with remarkable aplomb.”
“And Kingham makes you happy?” Sybil inquired.
“Does Everett make you happy?” she returned, rather vexed by her sister-in-law’s question.
Why did everyone insist that she could not be contented with her husband? It was as if, at the edge of every conversation, there remained a persistent hint of dubiousness. Was it King’s reputation? Was it something Verity herself had said or done? Was the source of their doubt something that had happened in her past but she could not recall?
How Verity wished she knew.
“Of course he makes me happy,” Sybil answered without hesitation.
“Then you also understand the happiness I share with my husband.” She smiled, but her lips felt as if they were stretched thin. “It is my most fervent wish that everyone could simply accept that King and I are desperately in love and that we are not somehow doomed to misery.”
Sybil’s face crumpled. “Oh, my dearest, is that what you think? I know that your brother is having a difficult time accepting your marriage to Kingham, but pray don’t think we all feel as if you have made a misalliance.”
This was decidedly not what Verity had come to discuss. However, now that she had aired the truth of how she felt, shecould not, in good conscience, shy away from explaining herself. It seemed a burden most unfair that she was carrying, the knowledge her brother was at daggers drawn with her husband, and that no one but Verity trusted her husband to love her and make her happy for the rest of their days.
“How am I meant to feel any other way?” she countered. “Ever since I lost part of my memory, you have all been treating me as if I’ve gone mad.”
“That is not how we intended for you to feel.”
Raw hurt was festering inside her, mingling with outrage on behalf of King. He had been nothing but a wonderful husband to her. He was considerate, caring, patient, and sensual. He put her needs before his own. He welcomed Emma into their home despite the pain of his childhood and the agony of losing his daughter, which haunted him still. Most importantly, he loved her, and she loved him.
“I may not recall every detail of my past,” she said with such feeling that her voice vibrated with emotion, “but I do remember enough to know that I love King with all my heart. He is the only man I have ever loved.”
Sybil’s face clouded. “But that simply is not true.”
Frustration bubbled up inside Verity, threatening to lash out.
“Why do you say that?” she demanded, losing her patience despite her love for her sister-in-law.
Indecision flashed over Sybil’s face. “There is something I think you should have. The physician suggested it was important to allow your mind to heal in its own time, but perhaps you will better understand this way.”
“What is it that you wish to give me?” Verity searched her mind and couldn’t conceive of a single object that would alter her opinion.
There was simply emptiness where certain aspects of her past had once resided.
“I’ll fetch it and be back in a moment,” Sybil said, rising from her chair.
Bemused, Verity watched her sister-in-law quit the room in a swish of blue silk. Time stretched, punctuated by silence and the ticking of a far-off mantel clock as their tea cooled. Verity stared at the tea cakes, thinking she ought to at least eat one to occupy herself, but any peckishness she might have felt upon her arrival had decidedly fled.
The hushed movements of servants in the hall reached her, and still no sign of Sybil. Had she ventured to the moon to retrieve this mysterious object? Verity wondered uncharitably. To distract herself, she reached for the lists mother had made and began a cursory examination.Mamandid have a fair eye for flowers, she conceded, even if she was heavy-handed. There was a list of recommended musicians, along with suggested champagne and an enumeration of supper courses.
“Well,” Verity murmured to herself wryly. “Mamanhas thought of everything yet again.”
She knew she shouldn’t be bothered by this. Rather, she should likely be thankful for her mother’s interest. And yet,shewas hostess of the ball, and it was her very first as Duchess of Kingham, and Verity would have liked to have been given the opportunity to come up with her own recommendations withoutMaman’s list.
The door to the drawing room opened then, revealing Sybil bearing a small, elaborately carved wooden box. Verity stared at the box, a deep, instinctive feeling rising within her, sharp and confusing. She knew that box. She had seen it before. But she simply couldn’t recall where.
