Page 83 of The Duke of Deceit

“Didn’t seem to bother you before.” Yet he sat up and tucked both himself and his shirttail back into his trousers. “Besides, it’s your fault, you know. I was perfectly presentable when I stepped into this carriage.” To make his point, he left his cravat a tangled mess. “And yet, you’ve turned me honorable.”

A short laugh left her. “Charitable,” she corrected, “not honorable, and being charitable is a long way from being honorable.”

“Then take me the rest of the way there.”

A sudden sadness came over her like a storm on a summer’s day. “You know I can’t.”

“You mean Phillip and the dukedom.”

“Yes.” No matter how much she loved him, no matter how fiercely she could show him that love, the same wall still stood between them—he was still living a lie, still keeping secretsabout himself, and as his wife, he expected her to do the same. All the good deeds in all the world couldn’t compensate for that. She couldn’t live that way, but she also would never be selfish enough to ask him to endanger the dukedom and those who depended upon it. Their situation was as impossible as ever.

He leveled a hard look on her. “You know what will happen if the truth comes out about what my father did, if Prinny and Parliament decide I wrongly usurped the title. They will attaint the dukedom.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do. Thanks to my black reputation and my past as a mercenary, I have few allies at St James’s Palace, even fewer in the lords, and none on the Committee for Privileges. Prinny would simply salivate at the chance to take back a dukedom the size of Crewe.”

“The Crown can only rescind a title in cases of treason,” she reminded him.

His eyes softened on her. “Darling, what do you think I did all those years I was fighting on the Continent? Nationality didn’t matter when secrets were stolen and battles waged, or when men needed to be silenced at all costs. Prinny could easily raise treason charges against me. Even if I’m never found guilty, it would be enough to attaint the dukedom.” He pulled in a ragged breath. “I’ve made provisions for Phillip. I’ve created a trust for him so he’ll be cared for, whatever happens, but there won’t be enough funds leftover to properly care for us and the family we would have. And then what would we do? I have no skills to call upon except for fighting, and I’m too old to become a mercenary again,”

We.Despite herself—and the warning he was attempting to deliver—she couldn’t help a rising thrill at hearing that. She wanted to be his partner and face the future at his side.

She insisted, “We would find a way.”

“No, we wouldn’t. Not the life you and our children deserve.”

“But they won’t have that life anyway, don’t you see?” She placed her hand pleadingly on his knee. “No one deserves to be lied to.”

“They won’t be lied to. The dukedom will become theirs by right. Phillip is never going to marry, and any sons we have will be legitimate heirs in the line of inheritance. I’m the one who doesn’t belong there, not them. No one needs to know the truth.”

“Iwould know.” A sharp heat stung her eyes as she rasped out, “So would you.”

He reached for her hand and folded it in both of his. “It won’t matter if—”

“No.” She pulled her hand away. “I won’t let my marriage be haunted by the past.” She had to pause after every few words to take a deep breath and pull herself back from the brink of crying. “Nor can I raise children within a web of lies.”

She sat back and pressed her fist against her chest, as if she could physically force down the sobs that suddenly threatened to overcome her.

“Lies always find a way into the light, and distrust always rears its ugly head.” She pulled in a hard, deep breath against the rising guilt and feelings of betrayal she’d experienced in her childhood. Which she still felt, even now after all these years. “Children aren’t stupid. They know when they’re being lied to, and they can sense when their world isn’t honest. No child should be raised in a home in which they can’t trust their father, who keeps secrets and lies.”

His expression softened, and he guessed quietly, “The way yours did?”

She swallowed hard. “Yes.”

“I’m not like your father, Jessamyn.”

“I know,” she whispered. “He was a selfish bastard who cared for no one and nothing but himself, while you’re driven by howmuch you care for others. Completely different motivations…” She forced a trembling shrug. “But the same betrayal in the end.”

Her vision blurred with hot tears. Thank God she couldn’t see the expression on his face. She couldn’t have borne it.

“I will never let my children experience that.Never.” She choked on her words, able to utter nothing louder than a breath, when she added, “Even if that means never marrying you.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Lucien smiled atthe man sitting across his desk from him in his study as the clock in the entry hall struck eight in the evening. It had been one hell of a long day, yet it wouldn’t be over for several more interminable hours to come.

Being good was proving to be damnably difficult.