The servant nodded and withdrew.
Thomas settled into a chair. He had no idea how this meeting was going to go. He hadn’t known, walking in, whether Lady Madeleine would have told her uncle what had happened last night, but if even the servants knew, it was clear that she had. What would the response be? Would Lord Keenward be furious with him? Would Thomas be thrown out for daring to show his face? Was it possible that Lord Keenward would even regret having saved his life?
I wonder if they’ve made that connection or not? I never told him my name all those years ago, so it’s possible he doesn’t even know it was me.
Would it be wise to reveal his identity if Lord Keenward didn’t know? Would this go more smoothly if Lord Keenward knew about their shared past, or would it be better to leave him in the dark about it?
Before Thomas could make that decision, the door opened again, and Lord Keenward came in.
The sight of his face made Thomas feel as if the air had left his lungs. The four years that had gone by hadn’t changed him—he looked just the same. And Thomas knew at once that he had been a fool to imagine that Lord Keenward wouldn’t recognize him the moment he laid eyes on him. Of course, he would know.
He watched Lord Keenward’s face to see if there would be a moment of surprised recognition—but there was none.
So, Lady Madeleine had known it was him too.
Of course she had. He might not have seen her the night he’d been stabbed, but she had certainly seenhim. Of course, she had recognized him upon seeing him again.
He rose to his feet. “Good day, Lord Keenward,” he said.
“Good day, Your Grace.” Lord Keenward didn’t sound hostile, exactly, but there was a reservation in his voice. “I did wonder whether I might be seeing you today.”
“I take it Lady Madeleine told you what happened at the ball last night.”
“She did tell me, yes.”
“So I thought I had better come and speak to you about it.”
Lord Keenward nodded. “Perhaps the two of us ought to sit down,” he suggested.
They took their seats.
“The first thing I want to say to you is that nothing happened between Lady Madeleine and myself,” Thomas said. “And I’m sure she’s told you the same thing—”
“She has.”
“Good. I want to make sure you’re aware of that.”
“I’m aware,” Lord Keenward said. “And I appreciate your telling me that. But at the same time, Your Grace, I know thatyouare aware that perception is reality in the eyes of the ton. After what’s happened, people are thinking very badly of my niece.”
Thomas nodded. “That’s why I’ve come here today,” he said. “I know that Lady Madeleine was the one to save my life four years ago. You told me that at the time.”
Lord Keenward nodded. “I used to think, back then, that we might see you again,” he admitted. “I thought you might come back to pay your respects to her. I didn’t realize who you were then, of course. You never told me.”
“No, I didn’t,” Thomas said.
He was sure Lord Keenward was wondering why he had never revealed his identity, but there was no way to answer that question without speaking ill of his own father. Little though Thomas respected the man; he didn’t want to disparage him in front of someone outside the family.
So he skirted the truth. “I didn’t want to reveal who I was because someone had just tried to attack me,” he said. It was partly true, anyway. “I thought that if you knowingly tried to help the Duke’s son, you might get into trouble, and I didn’t want to bring danger upon your house.”
“I see,” Lord Keenward said. “And is that why you took your leave so quickly that day, as well?”
“That’s why,” Thomas said.
“Well, I am glad you made your way back at last.”
“I would have come earlier, but my father’s death proved to be a distraction,” Thomas said. “I had a lot to contend with as I took on the title of duke myself.”
“That’s most understandable.”
