Page 12 of To Defend a Damaged Duke
“This is the same person you thought you had lost forever and whom you’d wronged, is it not?”
“Yes.And I have no excuses for my actions.I panicked, you see, and behaved abhorrently.I have never forgiven myself.And now this person hates me with a passion burning as brightly and fiercely as the flames of our lost love.And there is nought I can do about it.And…and yet, for my part, there is no hatred.I would like nothing more than to make amends in any way that person sees fit.”
“And you cannot?There is no path back?”
Benedict shivered as the first few spots of rain pattered onto his shoulders.Thunder grumbled like the boom of a distant cannon.Did Tommy enjoy thunderstorms?Or did he flinch at every crack?Ahead, a groom held the carriage door open, ready to transport the duke to wherever he wished to travel next.If only he knew.
“I am of the opinion that person wishes I never darken their door again.”
*
THE PEACEFUL DAILYroutine of Benedict’s stables did not have its usual restorative effect.Despite being firm favourites to win, two of his horses had failed to finish in the top three at Newmarket.One had pulled up a furlong short, the jockey declaring him lame.Watching the creature now as a groom walked him around the water pump, all four limbs seemed in perfect working order.
Benedict leaned against Nimbus’s stable door, sneaking him extra carrot treats.Another thing he didn’t know about Tommy.Did he ride?Did he wager?He owned a blackleg business—a thriving one if Joe Jonas, his stable master, was to be believed.Squire’s stands lined all the racecourses these days.Perhaps Tommy frequently attended himself.Perhaps he and Benedict had already brushed shoulders.
He didn’t think so.He would have felt it, a crackle between them like the frozen split second before a fork of lightning struck.He would have jerked around; his eyes would have landed on those harsh cheekbones framed by neatly cropped hair, an ordinary sandy blond until one touched it and discovered it was soft at silk.And that slightly cruel, thin-lipped mouth that had flitted so readily between kissing Benedict and being kissed by him.He’d have been drawn to those flashing eyes, too, unable to wrench his gaze away.The eyes of a feral cat.Were they blue or a devilish grey?Benedict never could tell.
Tommy could never loathe Benedict as much as he loathed himself.The intervening years only served to highlight the unpalatable truth; he’d left an innocent boy he’d loved to his fate.So many promises had spilled from his mouth back then, in between the kisses.It made him heartsick remembering them and how he’d broken them all to save his own pitiful skin so he could become an imposter of a venerable duke, with eighteen racehorses, umpteen fawning staff, and homes littering every county.And Benedict had the nerve to censure Lyndon’s callous behaviour?His brother might be a cad, but he wasn’t a damned fraud.
Chapter Seven
NEEDING TO DISTANCEhimself from endless internal gloom, Tommy called upon his friend, the earl.It provided the perfect distraction.Rossingley and hismistresswere, as ever, charming company.
“Only minutes before you appeared, Tommy, I had mentioned to Catherine that I hadn’t seen you in a while.”The earl reached for a napkin, eyeing his visitor across the small table.“Fancy that.And now you’re here, my darling, which makes me much happier.”
“Yes.”Tommy shifted, uncomfortably aware he was being scrutinised.
“But it is clear you are not.”
“Ah…no.”
Of course, Mrs Catherine de Villiers never had been, and never would be, Rossingley’sactualmistress.Not that she lacked appeal.Very few wealthy and handsome widows did.Regardless, she was a useful and willing smokescreen, playing her part in public admirably and simply for the fun of it, as far as Tommy could tell.
She was also remarkably astute.“It’s high time I left you gentlemen to your own devices and hunted down Mr Angel,” Catherine declared, rising from the chaise.“I’m sure you have much news to catch up.”
Tommy and Rossingley rose also.“He’s waiting for you in the ballroom, my dear.”Embracing her, Rossingley planted a chaste kiss on her cheek.“Limbering up,” he added, wickedly.“Although, I found him to be already quite supple before breakfast.”
She laughed, rather more heartily than a well-to-do lady ought.Tommy harboured a sneaking suspicion her origins might be as murky as his own.“You are as incorrigible as ever, my lord.”
“And you are as divine as ever, my darling.”
As the soft swish of her skirts faded away, the two men took to the armchairs by the fire.
“Ballroom, Lordy?”queried Tommy.
The earl beamed.“Yes.The lady has taken it upon herself to advance my beloved Kit’s dancing skills.He and I share a bothersome tendency to both seek the lead.”At this, his pale eyes gleamed.“You know, turn and turnabout.And one quickly finds oneself becoming distracted.”
He poured them both fresh teas.“Under Catherine’s tutelage, Kit has become rather adept.More importantly, after his lesson concludes, she takes her leave in a flurry of activity via the front door.”There was a delicate pause.“With the glowing air of a woman who has been thoroughly exercised, allowing thetonto go back to gossiping about some other poor soul.”He sipped daintily.“Everyone is a winner, as they say.”
For a minute or so, Tommy supped his drink.Teawith cream.Served in a bone china teacup and stirred with a silver spoon in an earl’s lavish drawing room as a guest of the earl.He’d come a long way and endured a torrid journey to reach this point, if only to discover his past had kept him company.
“A rather funny thing happened recently, Lordy.”
Though Tommy’s tone was light and even, Rossingley was damned difficult to fool.His silvery gaze fixed immediately on his companion, no doubt assimilating his haggard appearance and affected breeziness and leaping to all the right conclusions.
“I thought it might.You’ve been avoiding me.”
“Yes.Possibly.I’ve been avoiding everyone, actually.You see, I…I… The devil of it is…I came across my…my lordling.Unexpectedly, after believing I never would.And I confess, considering how much time has elapsed, I found the encounter far more bruising than anticipated.”
