Page 119 of The Duke's Wicked Widow
And for the first time, she realized howhurtThorne really was. She searched about for a way to reassure him.
“Fawkes…does not think he is worthy of…well, love, I suppose. He dismisses his capabilities and the good he does for those around him. He is…” Ellie frowned, trying to explain. “Skittish, I suppose. As a horse would be, if he had been shown nothing but the whip.”
“Did ye just compare my cousin to a cuddie?”
“A—a what?”
“A horse, lass.”
She could tell Thorne was smiling, beneath that scarf, and for a moment wanted to pull it down to see that dimple again. How had she not seen their similarities before?
“He’s a good man,” she whispered.
“Aye, he is.” Thorne glanced down, his gaze uncharacteristically sober. “Who has done terrible things. We’vealldone terrible things, thanks to yer uncle. And if Fawkes poisoned yer father on Blackrose’s orders…”
When he trailed off, Ellie took a deep breath, the cold air hurting her lungs. “It would be no different than the other people he poisoned on Blackrose’s orders, correct?”
“Perhaps different toye…but aye. The question is, why is he still working for Blackrose? Or was, until the man returned to Britain? Why was he no’ purged, with the rest of the agents?”
Thatwasthe question, was it not? Amongst many, that was the one that shone out of the darkness.
“He’s a good man, Danielle,” Thorne muttered, sounding as if he was reassuring himself, not her. “But secretive.”
She couldn’t argue there.
He’d cared for her, invited her to his home, made Merida’s dreams come true…all the while knowing he was the reason she’d been so lost in the first place.
Is that why he did it? Because he felt guilty?
Was it possible everything they’d shared—this warmth in her chest when she thought of him—had been an attempt to manipulate her forgiveness? Had he only shown her such care and kindness and joy because he’d felt sorrow for what he’d done?
Ellie shuddered.
“How much longer?”
Thorne’s voice was grim when he answered, “No’ far now.”
They both subsided into silence, and perhaps the cold was affecting them both. Ellie couldn’t stop turning it all over in her head—Fawkes’s treatment of her, the way he’d reacted when she’d guessed what he’d done…it was easier than thinking about what lay ahead.
But eventually, Endymion loomed in the distance. “I’ve never been so glad to see this place,” Thorne mumbled, voice muffled by the scarf.
He drove them around back where an older man stepped from the stables, nodded silently, and took the reins of the horses. Thorne lifted her down, and her knees felt weak enough to accept his arm as they hurried toward the back garden her sister had surely cultivated, now covered in a snowy blanket.
This was Ellie’s first time visiting Endymion, and she couldn’t appreciate any of it.
They were met at the kitchen door by a frantic older woman…who was wearing what appeared to be a turban made from raw sheep’s wool.
“Oh, thank goodness ye’ve popped back in, milord,” she blurted, upon seeing Thorne. “Ye’re just in time—be a good lad and fetch some water. The midwife wants some more hot water.”
Midwife? So the baby hadn’t been born?
Thorne had glanced at the two scullery maids. “Mrs. Kettel, I have been traveling for almost seven hours, perhaps—”
“Here ye are, Mrs. Kettel,” one of the maids interrupted. “I’ll heat this, and perhaps his Lordship might like some tea?”
Thorne winked at the girl. “Thank ye, lass. Might I introduce Lady Danielle Aycock? She’s Georgia’s sister. Danielle, this is Mrs. Kettel. She runs things.”
Ellie nodded, although her attention was mostly on the tea she’d been handed; perfectly warm, with plenty of milk and sugar to warm her insides.
