“According to Annabelle, they are redecorating the dower house to make it a welcoming space for women to discuss their causes. It sounds quite a worthy endeavor.”
Nathaniel looked up. He had assumed Evelyn was planning some half-thought-out ladies’ luncheon or other frivolous activity.
But that wasn’t fair to her. Evelyn was not frivolous. She was sharp, intelligent, and possessed eyes that saw the world more clearly than most. It was part of what had drawn him to her in the first place.
“I see,” he said instead, taking another long drink.
“Perhaps you ought to ask her about it,” Julian said. “You might be able to help.”
“She doesn’t want my help. She made that quite clear. Our marriage is on paper only. She may use the title all she likes—may it bring her much success in her endeavors.”
“I think she’d rather like to have you at her side.”
“Julian,” Nathaniel gasped, exasperated. “Must you twist every word I utter to suit your meaning? She and I are nothing to one another. We never were, and we never shall be.”
Then why were his eyes wet?
He rubbed at them furiously and looked toward the waiter. “Can you not shut the kitchen door? The stench of onions is intolerable.”
“Of course, Your Grace,” the waiter replied, hastening to shut a door that, in fact, did not lead to the kitchen at all.
“There is no onion,” Julian said dryly.
“Quite right,” Nathaniel muttered.
“Yes, well. The onion is truly rather unpleasant,” Julian declared loudly. He rubbed his eyes in solidarity, though his were as dry as the Sahara.
“I worry for you, my friend,” he said more quietly. “You are not yourself. Perhaps it’s time you reflected on what your uncle’s upheaval truly cost you. I’ve never known you to be so very…” he waved a finger vaguely, “peculiar.”
Nathaniel leaned back and sighed. “Even if I wished to speak to Evelyn, she has no desire to speak to me. She thinks I’m still the rake I once was in Scotland.”
Julian raised his brows. “I didn’t know she knew about your past. Have you told her? Weren’t you planning to reform?”
He scoffed. He had told Julian that he wished to change, especially after his disastrous attempt to woo an heiress at a club. But the truth was, he hadn’t wanted any other woman since Evelyn. Anytime he came close to another, all he saw was her face.
It had happened again at the club a week ago. And he hadn’t been able to admit it to her then.
“I indeed had no interest in other women because I was attempting to change,” he said, though it wasn’t entirely accurate. “But she never asked. And at first, we couldn’t stand each other. When we finally made an alliance, it didn’t matter. I thought I was finding her a husband. My reputation helped.”
“But something changed.”
He shrugged. “Last week, when we came back from the club, she was still awake. She saw me in my disheveled state and assumed another woman was the cause.”
“But you corrected her,” Julian said. “Told her it was because we had an altercation—because Lord Michael was cheating at billiards?”
Nathaniel paused. Then shook his head. “I let her believe it.”
“Why?” Julian’s voice was sharp with disbelief.
“I told you. I want her to stay away. And if she thinks I’m a horrible rake, it’s more likely she will.”
“But that’s not what you want,” Julian said quietly. It wasn’t a question—it was a truth. And Nathaniel knew it.
The truth was, ever since he’d been reminded of his childhood by Lord Halston, he hadn’t been able to see himself clearly. His uncle’s words—cutting, cruel—rang in his ears still.
She had said he suited the title of Duke better than she expected, but now he felt like a child drowning in clothes meant for a man.
He hated these insecurities. They should have been buried in his past. And yet, here they were—wreaking havoc in his life.
