His eyes narrowed. “My conscience? What the hell would give it cause to, pray tell?”
“I don’t know, Heart. Perhaps you can tell me?”Confess all the secrets you’ve been keeping from me.
His gaze narrowed to two slits. “You are hiding something from me, aren’t you? What are you up to?”
She had to applaud his sixth sense. “Nothing too nefarious, I assure you. I am merely doing what I do best—enjoying each moment life has to offer. And, in a sense, I am also trying to find my place in this world.”
“You already have a place.”
Yes, but that place was rather precarious. “I do not expect you to understand.”
Heart gave her a flat look. “I might understand more than you can imagine. I alsodon’tunderstand many things. Oh, this is driving me mad. You are doing it on purpose to vex me, are you not?”
She chuckled, observing the fine lines marring his temple. What burdens did those lines carry? She didn’t want to add to them, but she continued to find herself more and more curious, especially after Heart’s reaction last night. It couldn’t be a coincidence that Heart and the marchioness had become so restless so suddenly after the duchess returned to London. Leonora was twenty this year—a good age to be entrusted with the family secrets, no?
“Not on purpose, no,” she told him. “And I’m not up to anything much, though I do have a secret,” she admitted.
“Is it about a man?”
Both her brows sprung up. “No.”
“Well then, I’ll pass on whatever little female secret you are harboring.”
Honestly! “I wasn’t offering to tell you, you beast! I was merely being reassuring.”
He gave her a knowing look. “Well, be that as it may, it’s fine. We all have things we keep close to our hearts.”
“True.” She raked a glance over him. “So long as whatever you are keeping so close to your heart doesn’t blacken it.”
He inclined his head. “Valuable insight.”
“In any event, I hope to see you at the picnic.” Perhaps she could observe the duchess’s reaction to Heart this time.
“Don’t count on it.”
*
“Whois here?”Dare lifted his gaze from the ledger before him, frowning at his footman. He must not have heard the man right. After that damn parrot had shat all over his jacket last night, he had found it prudent to pour over account ledgers this morning to shake free from the damn horror that had befallen him.
Now, another potential horror awaited him in the form of this unexpected caller.
“The Duchess of Crane, my lord.”
Why the devil wasshehere? He glanced at the clock. Did this have something to do with Drake? Did that warrant a visit?
“Where is she now?”
“The receiving room, my lord.”
Dare rose from behind his desk and strode from his study. He drew to a halt in the doorway of the receiving room as the duchess entered his line of sight. She wore a day dress of black silk covered by a black coat, and light-blue eyes stared back at him when she turned, a look that very much reminded him of a certain flirt.
He considered the woman.
It wasn’t just her eyes. It was the slight arch of her lip, the soft outline of her face. She could have been the very image of Leonora in her youth had her hair been light brown instead of black woven with strands of gray.
This woman . . .
She must be connected to the Hearts.
