Page 40 of The Duke of Lies
Verity leapt up and crossed the room to him. “What is it, my sweet boy?”
Rufus joined them, sweeping Beau up into his arms. “Can’t sleep?”
Beau shook his head. “My tummy hurts.”
Verity wanted to take him from Rufus, but Beau had laid his head on his father’s shoulder. She moved around behind him and smoothed Beau’s hair from his forehead. His temperature felt fine, and she exhaled with relief. “Do you want to sleep with me?”
“Can I sleep with Papa?” His lids were heavy, and though she wanted him with her, she wouldn’t say no.
“Of course.” Her heart clenched, and she wished she shared a bed with Rufus. Then Beau wouldn’t have to choose. Not that it had seemed much of a choice. She hated the feeling of being usurped by this man who probably wasn’t even Beau’s blood. But what could she say?
In truth, she didn’t want to say anything. She couldn’t bring herself to diminish the bond that had sprung up between them, not when Beau was so happy. His happiness was everything.
Beau’s eyes closed, and Rufus’s gaze found hers. “I can bring him to your room if you prefer,” he whispered. “He won’t know. He’s already asleep.”
She shook her head. “No. You take him.” She smiled softly, appreciating his thoughtfulness so much. “Thank you.” For caring for her son. For being gracious. For abdicating to her wishes.
For being exactly what they needed.
He returned her smile, then carried Beau from the room.
As she collected their glasses and put them on the sideboard in the drawing room, she began to believe their future wasn’t in jeopardy. She wanted so badly to believe that. So right now, in this moment, she would.
* * *
Kit stoodwith Verity just outside the entrance tower and waved to the departing coach, which carried the Duke and Duchess of Romsey. The past week had been far more enjoyable than Kit had imagined. Indeed, it had given him a sense of connection and belonging, which was making it damn hard to contemplate his escape plan. That had become especially daunting after the evening they’d spent two nights ago, sharing drinks and planning his office. They’d both dropped their guards, and he’d felt as if he’d come to know her much better.
At the same time, he couldn’t ignore the disaster that would likely come if he stayed. He’d come precariously close to revealing his own secrets when the topic of her father had arisen. He’d nearly cocked everything up by not knowing a thing about the relationships between her and him, as well as him and her father. Apparently they’d been close, which was a bloody nuisance and would likely cause a problem if the man decided to show up. Hopefully, he wouldn’t, at least not while Kit was still here. Kit did find himself wondering, however, why the man hadn’t at least written, if not shown up—if they were as close as Verity thought them to be.
Over the past couple of days, Kit had worked to uncover as much information as he could using strategic discourse with various members of the staff. He’d learned that Verity’s mother had died at least a decade ago, that her father lived in London, and that the prior duke—Kit’s real father—had died a month after the nuptials. He’d been in decline after the death of hislegitimateson the previous fall and had taken a turn for the worse. Finally, Kit had ascertained that Verity and his father had become close despite the brevity of their acquaintance. He longed to ask her about him, but since he—as Rufus—had supposedly been there, he could not. In some ways, this ruse was growing quite tiresome.
Verity expelled a small sound, something between a sigh and an expression of regret. Tiny lines crossed her forehead, and her lips were twisted into a slight frown.
“You’re going to miss them,” he said, perhaps unnecessarily. Her disappointment was evident and possibly something she preferred not to discuss.
“So much. I love Beaumont Tower, but sometimes I wish we lived somewhere farther south.”
They’d made a promise to visit Lyndhurst later this summer, a pledge Kit knew he wouldn’t keep. It stuck in his chest, making him mildly uncomfortable. He really was the Duke of Lies. They fell from his mouth like blossoms drifting from the trees, only they weren’t pretty. With each one, he felt a sinking sense of defeat, as if he were losing a battle. But for what? Morality? Self-respect? Decency?
All those things and much more. This was beyond difficult because he liked Verity and Beau. No, helovedBeau. That much he could admit to himself. The boy had entrusted him with his care so effortlessly and so completely. The love of a child was truly unconditional. However, Kit knew that he could break the boy’s heart in a moment, and the day would come when he would.
Pain pierced his chest, and he sought to find a way to ease the ache. Perhaps he could ease her melancholy too. He turned to her. “Come with me into Blackburn. I want to tour a spinning mill, and then we can stop at a pub. One of the grooms told me that Cuddy frequents the Sheep’s Head, and I want to see if he’s still in the vicinity.” Because one of the grooms had taken him into town, Kit knew precisely where Cuddy was lodging—assuming he was still there.
He suddenly regretted inviting her. What if Cuddy was there? He couldn’t very well confront him in front of Verity. If things turned sour, he didn’t want her anywhere in the vicinity. But it was too late to rescind his offer, and what’s more, he didn’t want to.
She pivoted, her dark gaze reflecting surprise and just a touch of wariness. She’d all but become used to him—or so it seemed. Two nights ago, he’d glimpsed what their relationship might have been like.Ifhe’d been the duke and married her. He’d wanted the title for so long, had been bitterly disappointed to know it would never be his, and now he found himself wanting it for an entirely different reason. For her.
“That sounds delightful,” she said. “I’ll just go and get ready. Shall I meet you in the stable yard?”
“I’ll be waiting.” He gave her a smile that faded from his mouth as soon as she turned her back and went into the courtyard.
Oh, this was going to end in disaster. He should leave now. But no, first he had to find Cuddy and recover what he’d stolen. Then he’d go.
Who the hell was he fooling? That would be a disaster too. There was just no way this would end well, at least not for him. Verity and Beau would continue on as they had before he’d come. This would be a brief interlude that would fade from their memory, especially for Beau since he was so young. Kit wasn’t entirely sure he believed that, but he would cling to it nonetheless. He didn’t have any other choice. This was never going to be a permanent situation. Even now, his body ached for the rhythm of the sea.
Perhaps he should go there instead of Blackburn. The coast was a day’s ride, and he’d have to spend the night. He feared he wouldn’t want to come back, and he had to. There was business to be finished. In Blackburn, he would work to track down Cuddy as well as investigate the spinning mill. He was going to leave the estate better than he found it—that was one pledge he would keep.
A quarter hour later, they set out in the chaise toward town. Kit hadn’t spent much time driving vehicles, but he’d tried his hand in recent days, asking Simon to drive so that he could watch and learn. It had been an effective scheme, for now he was able to drive the chaise with enough confidence so as not to attract attention.
