Page 63 of The Best-Kept Secrets
“Is itnobleto call your mother a banshee in the midst of a parlor game?” Duke asked.
His father actually smiled a tiny bit. “I ought not to have said that, I’ll admit.”
“Please at least try to keep the peace,” Duke said.
The momentary look of amusement disappeared from his father’s face. “I will if they will.” And on that petulant declaration, he stormed off in the direction of the drawing room.
Duke remained behind, rubbing the back of his neck as he sighed.
“Did he really call your grandmother a banshee?” Eve asked, moving to where he stood.
“It isn’t the first time.” He looked away from the path his father had taken and at Eve instead. “We didn’t think you would be rejoining us tonight.”
“I’m not,” she said. “I needed to talk with Dr. Wilstead.” She expected Duke to ask how Nia was or if something had happened. He’d been so quick to offer assistance or a listening ear when she’d touched on difficult topics before. But he didn’t this time. “He is still concerned about Nia, as am I. And he confirmed that she will need powders and medicines for months to come. I am attempting to ascertain what that is likely to cost. I think I’ll feel less helpless if I know, but I might also feel more overwhelmed.”
She slipped her hand in his, needing the reassurance that touch had always brought. But he pulled his hand free. He’d done that the past couple of days, but she’d always been able to explain it away. In those instances, something or someone else had pulled him away. Or he’d been worried about embarrassing her by that small token of affection when others were around.
Eve couldn’t think of an excuse that applied in this moment.
“While I am still a little frustrated that my parents asked me to keep our situation secret from Nia, I’m feeling a little grateful that they did. If she knew how dire our finances were, she’d be worrying on top of ailing, and that wouldn’t do her any good at all.” There was such relief in being able to talk with him about this. She felt less alone. “What are the chances, do you suppose, that Dr. Wilstead’s estimate will be within my family’s reach?”
“I don’t know.” The hints of distance and aloofness she’d caught in his words and posture of late were impossible to miss in those three words. “I don’t have the answers, Eve.”
“I don’t expect you to.” Heavens, she was confused. “I just need someone to talk to.”
“I can’t be that someone,” he said in what almost sounded like an apology.
Her confusion was turning to bewilderment. “But you said at the inn that I could always talk with you.”
He took a step away, in the direction of the drawing room. “I shouldn’t have.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Eve. I really am.”
“But you—” She swallowed hard. “You are the only person who knows. There is no one else I can talk to.”
“I’m sorry.” He held his hands up in a show of helplessness. “You’ll have to sort this out on your own.”
Afraid of bursting into tears, she pressed her lips closed and silently nodded.
“I didn’t act as I ought. I never should have—It was a mistake,” Duke said.
“Which part?” Seldom had her voice emerged so small and uncertain.
He sighed. “All of it.” He shook his head. “I know I keep repeating this, but I feel like it has to be said: Iamsorry. I really, truly am.” He hesitated for the length of half a breath, then turned and left her there.
The one confidant she’d had in all her troubles, the person who’d let her cry in his arms, who’d held her and comforted her, even kissed her—and he’d left her there.
I can’t be that someone.
Sort this out on your own.
He’d pushed her so fully away. She was losing more than a listening ear and a support in her troubles. Watching him walk away, she felt her heart shatter.
She’d told him at the inn that she felt as if she were being left behind by everyone already. And he’d promised her he wouldn’t abandon her, that he would still be there. But he wasn’t.
It was a mistake. All of it.
Eve didn’t know how long she stood there, shock gluing her to the spot. He’d more than just walked away; he’d told her he shouldn’t have offered his support in the first place. How could she make sense of that?
His sincerity had been palpable when he’d said he was sorry. He was too good a person not to regret the pain he must have realized this was causing her, and he was too much a gentleman not to wish that this adjustment in the connection had never been needed in the first place. But his regret at the pain of that moment didn’t lessen her confusion.
