Page 74 of Dare to Love a Duke
“It’s a mother’s labor to harass her children.” Deirdre dabbed her lips with a napkin and stood. As Tom got to his feet, she waved him back down. “Saturday’s my letter-writing day, so I’m off to give my children some much-needed peace.”
A moment later, she was gone, and Tom and his sister were alone.
He eased back down to his seat before resuming his breakfast.
“It’s true, though.” Maeve propped her chin in her hand. “Youdoseem altered.”
Rather than acknowledge the truth of that statement, he rolled his eyes. “Saints protect me from the meddlesome women in my family.”
“You may be older by thirteen years,” Maeve said primly, “but I’ve considerable experience running after you and knowing your moods. Something’s troubling you.”
Though he did need to speak with her, he’d no great eagerness to tell his sister that he might very well cost Maeve her beloved Lord Stacey.
“There’s nothing—”
“Tommy.” Her gaze was serious. “Please. You can unburden yourself to me. I promise that whatever you say, I won’t fall to the ground with the fits.”
He set his knife and fork down. Damn it. This had to be done, and he both abhorred and welcomed it.
There’s nothing to be done but face this. You owe it to Maeve, and to yourself.
After a long moment, he said, “There are many forces—Lord Stacey’s father included—that want me to fall into line and do what’s expected of me.”
She looked at him with her piercing, astute gaze. “And what doyouwant?”
“To create change in the world.” He thought back to the revelations he’d made on the club’s roof, and again he felt that dual sense of excitement and dread. “I’ve a tremendous amount of influence now. I want to use that influence to shape England into a better country, one that doesn’t cling to outdated prejudice to ensure that a few people hold the reins of power.”
He sat back, slightly stunned. Speaking all this aloud made it even more real, more necessary.
“I’m glad, Tommy,” Maeve said, her eyes shining. “I want you to act from your heart, not a sense of duty. Something’s holding you back, though. What is it?”
Unable to meet her gaze, he glanced away. Now that the moment was here, getting the words out of his mouth seemed an impossible task. This could end his relationship with his sister, and to lose her would be like cutting out his heart and expecting him to go on living.
Softly, she said, “It’s me, is it not? You’re protecting me.”
Stiffly, he nodded. “Acting from my heart...” His words sounded gruff, almost severe. “It means opposing the Duke of Brookhurst. And if I do, the duke will forbid Lord Stacey from marrying you.”
A long silence followed, and when Tom looked back at his baby sister, her brow was furrowed in thought.
“Oh, Tommy...” She rested her head in her cupped hand.
“I’m sorry, Maeve.” He reached for her, and while she didn’t take his hand, she didn’t pull away, either.
“The price of your conscience is considerable,” she said after several moments. Her voice was low, barely audible.
“I wish it came with some other cost.” Regret tightened his throat. “Brookhurst’s powerful, and of a certain my crossing him will close doors to me, but that’s nothing, truly nothing, by comparison to what it will cost you. It’s... a damned conundrum.”
Maeve got to her feet and paced to the window. Tom stood, but when he moved to follow her, she held out her hand in a silent demand for silence and space. He could only watch, and wait.
When he’d been eighteen, and home on holiday from school, one day he’d gone off on his own to meet a girl in the village. The whole way there, as he’d hurried down the bridle path, he’d thought only of the pleasure he was soon to have. Halfway to the village, though, he’d become aware that someone followed him.
He’d spun around, only to find Maeve in her grass-stained pinafore, trying to keep up on her short, little girl legs. But instead of looking guilty for being caught away from home and away from her nurse, she’d smiled at him.
“Go home, Maeve,” he’d said, trying to sound stern like their father.
“I’m coming with you, Tommy,” she’d announced firmly. “We’ll go to the village and I’m going to buy you a boiled sweet. I saved for it. See?” She’d rooted around in the pocket of her pinafore and produced a tiny handful of coins.
“Where did you get that?”
