Page 26 of The Wrong Duke

Evan grinned. “Besides, my life isn’t nearly as interesting.”

“I doubt that.” She slapped playfully at his arm. “A duke with a secret past. One that nobody, no matter whom I ask, seems to know of or want to speak about. Sounds thrilling.”

“It’s really not...” Evan said awkwardly as he sensed where the conversation was going.

“Don’t make me beg.”

“It’s not that.” He felt the mood shift slightly, mostly his doing, as he hated speaking about his past and usually did anything he could to avoid it. “It’s just... I don’t usually... It’s not something I’m fond of discussing.”

Miss Baker’s eyes widened with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to push.”

“It’s fine.”

“Really, I had no idea it was such a sore subject. If you prefer, I can keep going? I didn’t tell you about my great grandfather yet, who ran off with his maid for five years only to come back one day pretending that nothing had happened.”

“I think you’ve done quite enough talking for the day, Miss Baker.”

She grinned. “Don’t pretend that you weren’t enjoying it.”

When Evan had left the manor this morning, it was to stretch his legs and prepare himself for the long day ahead, one that he was sure to be filled with bickering and arguing all so his friend might not make a mistake that was sure to ruin his life. He’d had no doubt that Miss Baker was going to continue her pursuit of David, just as he had no doubt that he’d do anything he needed to stop it.

But then she surprised him by appearing in the garden. And then she surprised him further by behaving in a way that was so unlike her he almost asked on more than one occasion who she was and what she had done with Miss Baker.

There was no fighting to be had. No snarling or snapping or quarrels the likes of which the two had engaged in time and time again. And whenever it felt as if the conversation might drift back to this most predictable happenstance, she would be quick to pivot and set them on a more friendly path.

And dammit if Evan wasn’t enjoying himself.

He hated that he was. And he felt guilty whenever he felt a smile touch his lips or a laugh build in his belly. But he couldn’t help it. He’d known Miss Baker to have a sharp tongue, and he’d known her to be quick witted and just a little mischievous, but what he hadn’t known was how much he’d relish her company when they weren’t breathing fire at one another.

It was such a pleasant experience that the morning was getting away from them, and neither seemed ready to admit it. They had walked several laps of the garden, about the hedges, around the flowerbeds, between the trees, marveling at its beauty, partaking in its serenity, enjoying the setting as much as they were one another’s company. Which was a lot.

“I suppose I owe you something though, don’t I?” Evan sighed, acting as if he was forcing the matter.

“I think you do. But only if you want to. Again...” She looked at him as they walked. “...you don’t have to say anything you don’t wish.”

Walking along the garden path, a left turn would have seen them head back toward the manor, signaling the end of their walk. But the automatic right, no questions asked, no surprise given, implied they were both of the same mind.

“No... it’s fine,” Evan conceded, feeling a tightening in his chest. “I’ll tell you, but you have to promise not to judge.”

“Me?” Her eyes flashed. “Never.”

He looked at her dryly. “Or use it against me.”

“Again... me?” She winked. “Never.”

He couldn’t stop himself from smiling. For reasons he couldn’t begin to describe, Evan was feeling more comfortable around Miss Baker than he had with anyone in as long as he could remember. Comfortable enough that he was willing to tell her about a part of his life that he kept hidden specifically because bringing it up caused him more pain than he could bear. The sort of pain that was responsible for who he was today: cut off emotionally, refusing to open up because that only led to hurt.

Strange that today, right now, Evan welcomed it. Why that was? If only he could guess.

And so, he told Miss Baker the last thing he thought he’d ever tell her. That being, the tragedy that had befallen him and his family. A father who was as romantically inclined as David. A stepmother who was as opportunistic as Lord Lindstone — and willing to take advantage of the fact in a way that even Lord Lindstone might blanche at. She bled his fortune dry, funneling the money away from him slowly so that when she was ready to leave him, it was ensured she’d be rich beyond her wildest dreams. And, of course, a younger brother who had found out what she was doing, tried to stop it because he knew their father would not, and was murdered as a result...

“...I miss him every day,” Evan explained, voice filled with sorrow in a way he couldn’t have expected.

“That’s awful,” Miss Baker said with full sincerity as she stroked his arm softly. The gesture was one of concern, but it felt... more comforting than it should have. “I can’t even imagine.”

“It’s fine,” Evan dismissed.

“No, it’s not. And don’t ever say that.” She looked at him, the sincerity in her voice breaking through in her smile. “Feeling pain, admitting to it, isn’t a weakness. Especially something as tragic as... as what’s happened to you. If anything, it takes a certain kind of bravery to accept it, to be honest about it. And anybody who says differently, doesn’t know what they’re talking about.”

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