Page 62 of Silence of Deceit
Her temple had scabbed. It was a minor wound. Nothing compared to Hugh’s arm.
“Where was he?” Hugh pressed, as if knowing she was avoiding the question.
“In bed. He has fallen ill again.”
Hugh’s furious expression softened. “I see.”
A chill shivered from her crown to the small of her back.Didhe see?
The ire slowly drained from his tensed shoulders, and he raked his fingers through his hair. “How serious is it?”
“I’m not sure,” she answered. “He is being treated.”
He met her gaze. Though he said nothing, she could read his questions. His suspicions. He was no fool. And the wry lift of his brow whispered that he didn’t believe she was in the dark about the duke’s illness.
“You know what it is.”
It wasn’t yet noon, but Audrey’s body was strung tight, and when her eyes landed on the decanter of whisky on one of the bookshelves, she gave in. She crossed the room and poured herself a drink. Then splashed some into a second snifter. She extended it to him and held her breath as he came toward her to accept it.
Hugh lowered his voice. “Are you well?”
Her lips lingered on the glass, the smoky scent of the whisky touching her nose. “I?”
“These things are transferred in one way,” he said, harsher than before. He clenched his jaw and took a sip of his drink. She mirrored him, and only spoke after the liquid burned a path down her throat.
“I am fine. Philip loves me, but not in that manner.” She looked into her glass; it was easier than looking into Hugh’s perceptive eyes.
“Never?”
Audrey looked up. Warmth crept into her cheeks. “Philip and I agreed on certain terms. You are an intelligent man, Officer Marsden, I believe you can gather what one of them was.”
As soon as she called him by that name, she regretted it. It was a wall of defense. A way to separate herself from him. It only made her feel worse.
“I understand.” Hugh flexed the hand bound in the sling as he sipped his drink. Then, after a heavy silence, asked, “What were the other terms?”
She stared at him. It was an incredibly bold question, asked without a note of cunning. Only curiosity. Audrey didn’t owe him an answer. In fact, it would be completely within her right to tell him to leave this instant. But she found that she didn’t want to.
“That we would always be honest with each other. We would discuss everything. I suppose…we were both looking for someone to trust. A true companion and friend.”
It had been thrilling to have a friend, at last; someone who wouldn’t judge her or want to change her. It was something she’d never had. She and Philip had found a way around the traditional pathways of the ton and had reveled in their cleverness.
“I wouldn’t have to marry Bainbury, and Philip would have a wife he did not need to conceal anything from. There would be no need to pretend. We agreed on everything. Everything was going so well...”
“Until he started keeping secrets,” Hugh said.
Audrey wasn’t sure if it was the whisky loosening her tongue or the long, sleepless night. Or perhaps it was the impression of being isolated from the rest of the world here in her study. But she hazarded an honest reply. “So am I.”
Hugh was quiet a moment. Then guessed what she meant. “The kiss.”
She dared to look up at him. “I must tell him.”
It was not like in August, when they had only stood close on the quarry ledge, each of them knowing what the other wanted to do. Audrey had already chastised Philip for not being honest with her; she wouldn’t be a hypocrite now.
Hugh drained his drink. “You’ve already assured me he won’t call me out. Even though he thinks I amunsuitable.”
Heavens. Audrey had hoped Hugh would forget that conversation, but it seemed he stored every detail in his trap of a mind. He set the empty snifter on the shelf next to the decanter.
“However, you never said what he thinks I am unsuitable for,” he drawled. She glared at him. Was he teasing?
