“Do you remember Oliver? Was he… Was he a better man than I?”
“Whatever makes you ask such a thing?”
“Answer me,” Tristan pressed.
“Tristan, be reasonable. Oliver was your younger brother. He looked up to you—he always did. Just because he was louder and witty, doesn’t mean he was any better. The two of you were different as night and day but in good ways. He was overly idealistic, while you were reasonable. He drank too much, and you were too quiet. You had your faults and your talents. Theriding accident was most unfortunate, but you cannot blame yourself.”
He nodded slowly while he tried to listen. Yet he couldn’t stop thinking about Cassandra. How lovely she had looked. An absolute angel. His brother had adored her with all his heart.
Instead, Oliver made a foolish mistake and found himself in a grave. Tristan had days where he wished they could have traded fates, but he found it a selfish thought. He didn’t want to be there. He didn’t want to be trapped while his brother was free.
I had so little peace. So little control. And here I am, wed again, to another woman I did not choose. Verity and Cassandra seem to be very different. Something about this makes Verity more terrifying than anyone I’ve ever known.
Her smile never felt like a lie. He welcomed it,wantedit. But what if it was a different sort of untruth?
He fumbled with his cup in his distraction.
“Are you all right, old friend?” Julian took the glass from him. “You seem out of sorts.”
Tristan watched the glass go. He had to clear his head, put Verity out of his mind.
“Nothing that fresh air cannot fix. I think I shall go out for a ride. You may take your leave. Thank you for your time.”
“Perhaps I shall join you. You could use some company, I think.”
Slowly shaking his head, he said, “No, thank you. I’ll consider what you said,” he promised.
“I suppose that is all I can ask. You are a strange man, my friend.” Julian saluted. “Carry on, and I shall talk to you soon. It seems there is much to discuss, whether we accept that now or later.”
“I don’t appreciate riddles.”
Julian winked and disappeared down the hall.
It didn’t take Tristan long to do the same, moving through the back halls to change into his riding habit. He didn’t see Verity again. Though he meant to avoid her, he watched every corner in case they might cross each other before he left.
The fresh air did wonders for him. Even as the sky turned gray and a heavy drizzle fell across town, he couldn’t bring himself to turn back.
He spent a good hour on the outskirts of London, where he recalled his playful younger brother and their memories from their youth. At some point, he had laughed as well. Laughed and played and dreamed about the future.
Perhaps he might have dreamed of a woman who laughed as often as Verity seemed to do. Yes, he could have been a different man.
He simply didn’t know when he had changed.
CHAPTER 18
“But you don’t know?”
“The Duke cannot be far from here.”
Verity bit her lip, then asked, “But he didn’t say when he might return? Not to anyone?”
The butler shook his head, the doubt in his eyes clear. He didn’t have a response.
That didn’t make Verity feel good. In fact, her stomach churned. It twisted. It dropped.
She stepped back to draw in a breath. “Oh dear. Oh, bother.”
This is what I deserve for moving too quickly. I didn’t think this through. It always happens whenever I’m with Helena. All theideas come bubbling up, and suddenly I’m making mad dash moves with nothing to ground me. What have I done?
