Page 18 of An Inconvenient Duke

Dani let out a long sigh. Somehow, she’d lost the battle before lines had even been drawn.

“Did I miss something?” Marcus asked, puzzled, as he stared after her aunt.

More than you realize.“Not at all.” She forced a smile and folded her hands demurely in front of her. “What did you wish to speak to me about, Your Grace? Surely it could have waited until tomorrow.”Unless I figure out a way to beg off from dinner before then…

He frowned. “You don’t seem happy about Claudia’s betrothal.”

“Actually, I’m delighted for your sister. I’m very much looking forward to her wedding.” But she didn’t want to talk about Elise, and she was certain that was exactly what he was hoping for.

“Then please accept tomorrow’s dinner invitation for what it is—my gratitude to you for helping Claudia. Nothing more.”

“Nothing more?” Doubt colored her voice.

“Perhaps a bit more.” His expression turned solemn. “It’s also an apology for how I behaved last night. I’d like it to be a chance for us to start over.”

She blinked.Thatwas unexpected.

“I know that Elise’s death was hard for you as well.”

Not hard. Devastating.

“I shouldn’t have confronted you like that.” His expression melted with remorse. “It was badly done, and for that, I am sorry.”

No, he shouldn’t have, and for that,shehad every right to be furious. Yet she was unable to resist the solace that his apology brought.

“I understand why you did it. I truly do,” she admitted discreetly. “But I don’t have any more information than what you already know.”Please let this go… “Nothing more can be gained by discussing it.”

A tight smile pulled at his lips. “The invitation to dinner isn’t a bribe.”

Guilt consumed her. “I didn’t mean to imply—”

“But this is.” He reached into his jacket and withdrew a little box the size of a pocket book, wrapped in white paper and tied with a pink ribbon. He held it out to her and added dryly, “Although the soldier in me prefers to think of it as reparations.”

She ached for him. He’d gone through so much in the past few years, with the coming months most likely to be nearly as difficult. He had Pippa to raise now, Claudia to deliver safely into marriage, a dukedom to oversee…alone. He wasn’t in the army now and couldn’t fight his way through life any longer. She had a tingling suspicion that Harriett was his first attempt at calling in civilian reinforcements to win a battle and that she was his first attempt at diplomacy.

Knowing all that, how could she refuse to accept this gift?

Mumbling her thanks, she carefully took it from him, then pulled loose the ribbon and let the paper fall away—

She blinked in surprise and traced her fingers over it. “A music box?”

“An apology.”

The polished mahogany box shone in the morning sunlight as she turned it over in her hands. She carefully unfastened the tiny clasp and opened the lid to reveal the circular brass plate and winding mechanism that made it play.

“I cannot accept this,” she whispered. Yet how dearly she wished she could! But they weren’t courting and never would, and this was far too expensive a gift from an acquaintance.

Not looking at her, he said quietly, “It was one of Elise’s.” He pulled a brass key from his waistcoat pocket and inserted it into the tiny keyhole. “She would want you to have it.”

If it had been any other gift, she would have accused him of attempting to use it to manipulate her, just as he’d used the waltz. But not this. Not even a battle-hardened general would use her love of his sister against her like that.

Thismuch of his apology, at least, was heartfelt.

His unexpected kindness warmed through her. “It’s beautiful.” And the most thoughtful gift she’d ever been given. She swallowed down the knot of emotion in her throat. “Thank you.”

A single tear slipped down her cheek, surprising her. So many tears had been shed that she didn’t think any were left, yet she couldn’t stop it, her heart torn between grief at Elise’s death and indescribable joy that he’d given this to her. This piece of the woman who would always be the most special friend she’d ever have.

She wiped the tear away with her fingertips before he could see it, then gave the key a single turn. Just enough to play the first few notes…a lullaby. The same lullaby that Elise had sung to Pippa when she was a baby, cradled in her arms and drifting to sleep.