Page 110 of The Duke's Mysterious Lover
“I’m sorry,” he managed. “I should have spoken to ye first, I ken it.”
Kit looked down at the paper in her hands once more, reading in a dull voice. “Miss Katherine Pastorino, who impressed many at the Stallings assembly last week when she arrived on the arm of a certain eligible duke, is said to be a violin virtuoso.” She huffed slightly. “I hope my mother doesn’t read this, she’ll accuse me of bragging.”
“It was me, Kit, and I’m sorry.” He squeezed her hand, his heart thumping painfully against his ribcage, desperate to get it said. “And that’s no’ all. It was why I went rushing out last night.”
But she was still reading. “Our mysterious artist, we can now reveal, has spent the first decades of her life raised abroad by…”
Kit’s mouth continued to move, but her voice had died to nothing more than a faint gurgle as she read the next words.
“Kit—”
She lifted her face, eyes blazing with fury. “Raised by Bonkinbone’s wife, the talented soprano Gloria Pastorino, Lady Bonkinbone.”She slammed the paper down none too delicately into his lap. “Whywould you let them tell such a lie, Thorne?”
Christ, his heart broke at her helpless tone. “Love, I’m sorry!” He reached for her but she twisted away.
“Do you haveany ideathe consequences of such a lie?” she snarled, popping to her feet and planting her hands on her hips. “Lady Emma will be shamed, the Earl of Stallings will pull his support. That’ll piss off my father, who’ll turn around and take it out on us—as if getting shot in the head wasn’t enough! And all because you want him to attend tonight?”
“Ineedhim to attend tonight!”Fook, this isnothow this was supposed to go. Wincing, Thorne pressed his palm to his forehead. “Kit, now all of Society will expect him to be here, to support his daughter. Look, he’s even listed as the guest of honor.”
“Of course he’s the guest of honor! He’s my father, and I’m the shameful mystery he’s hidden away for years in another country!” She was so angry she looked ready to stamp her foot. “Thorne, this lie—”
“It’s no’ a lie.”
Kit stared.
Thorne took a deep breath, strangely at peace now that the moment had come. He’d known it would come, and here he was. Here they were. “Kit, it’s no’ a lie. Blackrosedidmarry yer mother.”
Confusion slowly took over the fury on her expression, and he ached at the pain he was causing her. There was a pit in his stomach the size of Scotland, and he knew he deserved the worst punishment.
Christ. Do better.He began again. “That night we broke into Blackrose’s safe, I found a file marked with yer mother’s name. It contained receipts for the money he sent her over the years…” Another deep breath, as if that would help prepare him. “And a marriage certificate listing yer parents as married a year before yer birth.”
Her lips formed the words, “A year?” but no sound emerged.
“I left it there, but I ken enough information that we should be able to find a copy from the parish in New York if necessary.”
“My—married? They were married, in America?”
Thorne shrugged helplessly, the pounding of his head momentarily forgotten. “I didnae ken yer father back then, of course, but he always did plenty of traveling. It’s possible that, as a younger son, he thought he could set up a household in America.”
“Oh, he did.” Her tone turned bitter as the anger crept back into her eyes. “And like the ordered man he is, he kept the certificate. A certificateyoufound. You found it, with me standing right there in the room,knowingwhat I thought I knew about my parents.” Her pale eyes blazed now. “And you didn’t tell me.”
Ye deserve this.Thorne grimaced. “I didnae, not immediately. I thought if ye kenned—”
“What?” She’d turned away from the bed now, her hands thrown into the air as she began to pace. “What did you think I’d do if I knew the truth? Make more demands of my father?”
“Think I was trying to manipulate ye,” Thorne confessed quietly. When she turned an incredulous look his way, he sighed. “Kit, ye’d only just finished telling me ye couldnae marry me because ye were a bastard. I thought if I suddenly popped up with proof yewerenae, then ye’d think…” Another weak shrug. “I was afraid ye’d think I was pressuring ye. If ye dinnae want to marry me, that’s yer prerogative.I’mthe one with the deadline, needing heirs and everything. If ye were illegitimate, ye need no’ worry about that sort of thing. Besides, this…this changes things. Everything. Your responsibilities, your direction in life—your place in the world. I didnae want ye to be burdened. I thought, if I could just protect ye—”
Her expression was difficult to read, but her fingers rested on her stomach as Kit slowly turned back to him from where she stood by the far window. “You expect me to believe you kept this a secret because you thought it was for my own good?”
Why couldn’t he say this properly? “Nay! I—fook.” In frustration, he went to drag his hands through his hair, bumped the injury, gasped in pain and ended up holding his head.
“I’m sorry, Kit,” Thorne mumbled, dropping his chin to his chest while still holding his head. “I was trying no’ to be self-centered. I thought this is what ye’d want.”
“For you to not be self-centered?”
He could barely lift his gaze. There was so much disgust and anger in her tone he felt like a dog who’d shat on a fine carpet. “Ye deserve to make yer own decisions. Discovering ye were the heir to the earldom—”
“What?” she snapped, and he winced again.
