Page 73 of His Unwanted Duchess

Stephen swallowed, obliged to drop his gaze first. With a rustling of skirts, Theodosia got to her feet, crossed the room, and wrapped her arms around him.

Stephen tried to stay stiff and cool, but he found himself sagging into his mother’s embrace after only a moment.

“She cares for you,” Theodosia whispered. She did not explain whoshewas, and really, it was not necessary.

“She doesn’t know me, Mama.”

Theodosia pulled back, cupping his face in her hands. “ButIknow you, Stephen. And I am telling you that if you don’t take the bull by the horns soon and leave thisBlackheartbehind, you may end up living up to your namesake.”

“I already do.”

“No, Stephen, you do not. The day you become like your father, I will stop being your mother.”

He blinked, backing away from her. “Mother, I would never. I wouldnever.”

“I know.” Her voice was soft again. “Think about what I’ve said, Stephen, won’t you?”

He sighed. “I will.”

There wasn’t much else to say, really. Theodosia narrowed her eyes at him as if trying to read his mind, trying to see what he was thinking. He kept his expression neutral, relying on his natural coldness to protect him.

Theodosia sighed, just the way he had. “Hm.”

“Are you staying, Mother? Shall I have a room prepared for you?”

Theodosia shifted, looking almost like a guilty girl again. “No, actually. I’m… I’m going out again.”

Stephen narrowed his eyes at her. “Oh? At this hour?”

“It’s a private ball,” Theodosia said, a trifle defensively. “Let me tell you something, Stephen.”

“You have not ceased telling me things since you arrived.”

She chose to ignore his sharp wit.

“While your father was alive, I lived a certain way. You know how it was. I was a slave in my own home, imprisoned in more ways than one. I could have left, yes, but his cruelty was not known well enough to make Society side with me. I would have lost everything. You made your escape, but as long as your father lived, I never could. And now? Now, I am free. I amfree, Stephen! I think of the wasted years when I could have beenliving! I look back and think about the time when I was all but imprisoned, and I can’t help but consider how differently things could have been. Your prison, Stephen, is inthere.”

She lifted a finger and tapped it on Stephen’s forehead.

There was a moment of silence, then she broke into a smile.

“Think about it, won’t you?” she said and then swept out, not waiting for a response.

CHAPTER 21

Sleep seemed impossible. Beatrice had been trying for… well, it felt like hours, despite the slow crawling of the clock’s hands. She didn’t dare glance at the clock, in case she found herself facing the long, endless night before her.

She rolled onto her back, heaving a sigh. The quilted upholstery stretched out above her, the curtained four-poster bed seeming larger and larger by the minute.

Shewastired, her bones aching, but sleep simply refused to come. Pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes, Beatrice wondered for the hundredth time how it was that, despite sleeping in the most comfortable bed she’d ever known, she could not seem to actuallysleep.

It didn’t help that the events of the day kept replaying in her head.

Why is it that my dearest friend gave birth to a baby—mother and baby are both safe and healthy, no less—and here I am thinking about somethingotherthan that? What sort of monster am I?

It was, of course, what happened with Stephen that lingered on Beatrice’s mind. His looks, his smile, the way his fingertips danced across her skin. The moments replayed over and over in her head. She could still feel the way her heart jumped and her skin tingled when he touched her, the way she responded, the way he’d reacted to that response…

Oh, it was too much. Beatrice shivered, the memory making the ache return to her gut again, thewantingrearing its hopeful head.

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