“What about the fact that London is your home, Uncle Joseph? You can’t justleave.”
“Of course I can,” he said stoutly.
“And go where?”
“Somewhere else. Scotland, perhaps. Somewhere no one knows about you or what happened to your family, and they won’t have anything to say. You’ll be able to start fresh. You’ll be able to find a husband.”
Madeleine shook her head. “No,” she said. “You haven’t thought this through at all. You can’t leave your home because of me. You’ve been at Kellet Estate all your life, Uncle Joseph. And I’ve been here since I was a child. Leaving would mean giving up everything. We can’t do that. It isn’t worth it.”
“Of course it’s worth it. Securing your future is worth everything to me, Madeleine. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do.”
Madeleine felt absolutely miserable. He couldn’t possibly mean what he was saying.
And what would she do if he did?
She couldn’t let him disrupt his life so dramatically, not for her.
It’s the curse all over again.
Immediately, she felt a rush of horror.
What if that was true? What if itwasthe curse?
What if it didn’t simply kill the people she loved—what if it found ways to destroy their lives?
It had occurred to her before that she had been living with Uncle Joseph for a very long time, and the curse hadn’t harmed him. It was the best evidence that existed for the fact that there was no curse at all. If she was so dangerous, how could he have escaped damage all these years?
Well, now perhaps she had her answer. Nothing had happened to him…until now. Now he felt as if he had to leave the only home he had ever known to secure her future.
It would be all my fault.
She didn’t know what she was going to do—but she knew that she couldn’t let Uncle Joseph make a sacrifice like that for her. They had to stay in London. And whatever it took, she would figure out a way to make sure he didn’t give up his home.
CHAPTERNINE
Finding himself at Kellet Manor again after all these years was strange and stressful. Thomas actually felt an ache in his gut as he stood at the front door as if he was reliving the pain of the wound he’d suffered four years ago.
He drew a breath to calm his nerves and knocked at the door.
The man who answered him was unfamiliar, of course, and it wasn’t until Thomas saw him that he realized he had been half expecting Lord Keenward to come to the door. It was a foolish thing to expect. Of course the Viscount didn’t answer his own front door. But he associated the gentleman so strongly with this place.
He hadn’t realized how visceral his memories would be. It almost felt like it was happening again.
“May I help you, sir?” the servant asked, and Thomas realized he had just been standing there, failing to speak.
He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m here to see Lord Keenward.”
“Is he expecting you?”
“No, he isn’t. You may tell him that the Duke of Westcourt is calling.”
The expression that came over the man’s face left Thomas with absolutely no doubt that everyone in this house knew exactly what had happened at the ball last night. It was clear that Thomas’s name had been discussed.
But the man nodded. “Come with me,” he suggested. “The sitting room is this way, and I know Lord Keenward will be happy to meet with you.”
He led Thomas into the sitting room and hesitated. “Would you like some tea? Can I bring you anything?”
“I’m quite all right,” Thomas assured him. “I’ll wait here for Lord Keenward.”
