Page 82 of Anything But a Duke
Finally, he said, “I’ve never known where I belong.” The words came out rough, as if his throat had gone dry. “To be honest, I’m not even sure of my name. The workhouse may have given it to my sister and me for all I know.”
“You don’t remember?”
“I try not to.” He shifted, his hand tensing against her back. “I made a mistake that I can never fix.” On a whisper, he said, “My sister Sarah. I left her behind. She was quite young when I ran away. I didn’t want her to sleep on the streets, but I promised I’d come back when I found a place for us.”
Diana swallowed back the sting of tears. The pain in his voice was raw, and part of her wanted him to stop, if only to keep him from the pain. But she had to know, and she suspected he needed to tell someone too.
He drew in a long breath and said on an exhale, “The workhouse burned. I lost my sister, or so I’d thought until a few days ago. A man at the lodging house where I was born says she’s alive.”
“Do you believe him? Has he told you where to find her?”
“I don’t know what to believe, and he has no information. The envelope I gave you is the only lead I have.”
Diana lifted her head again. “I’ll help you if I can.”
“You already have.” He kissed her, a slow, tender caress of his lips against hers. Then he cupped her cheek against his palm. “I love you, Diana.”
Her heart swelled, nearly burst inside her chest. They were the words she longed to hear. And yet her tongue felt thick and she offered him nothing in reply.
His gentle smile faltered, and she hated the disappointment that flickered in his eyes. But he stroked her back and pulled her closer, tucking her against him again. He kissed the top of her head but said nothing more.
Diana closed her eyes and fought the sting of tears. Something inside wouldn’t allow her to give the words back to him. She’d told him they wouldn’t think of the future.
Just this one night. That’s all they could have.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Walking into Lyon’s often required Aidan to reacquaint himself with its sounds and scents. He’d never spent as much time at the club as Tremayne, who oversaw it with all the worry of a mother hen, or Huntley, who spent as much time there drinking and gaming as its most devoted members.
He smelled roasted ham and the distinct aroma of kippers and guessed that breakfast hours had been extended, as they sometimes were on Saturdays. The gaming tables were less crowded this early in the morning, but there were some inveterate risk takers still leaning over the green baize, hoping to make fortune their friend.
The club was just as impressive in daylight as lit by lamplight in the evenings. The gilded walls and crystal fixtures sparkled in the sunlight pouring in from the enormous multicolored glass dome overhead.
A few members recognized Aidan and lifted glasses in salute or offered nods of acknowledgment. Most didn’t give him a moment’s notice.
He scanned the upstairs balcony, where he knew Tremayne liked to hide, but he could see no one beyond the polished balustrade.
Aidan made his way down to the office and noticed a difference he never had before. A few paintings, mostly watercolors, had been added to the walls. He suspected Tremayne’s wife was to blame. Or to thank. The art enlivened the grim space, and he was grateful his friend had found a woman who continually challenged him, both in business and in life.
Now that Aidan was contemplating marriage for himself, it was precisely what he wanted too.
Nick stood donning his overcoat when Aidan stepped into his office.
“You caught me,” he said with a less than guilty smile curving his mouth.
“Are you on your way to an appointment?”
“No.” Nick shrugged. “Not if you need to speak to me. I was simply going to go for a walk, if you must know. The air in the club begins to feel stale after a while. I thought a walk might improve my mood.”
Slipping his coat off again, he indicated one of the chairs in front of his desk.
“Sit. Tell me what’s brought you here so early.”
“What brought you?” Aidan asked in all seriousness.
Nick spent more time at the club than he and Huntley combined, but he was often the last to depart in the evening, which meant he rarely managed to be the first in for early morning hours.
“If you must know, I was going to attempt a meeting with Lockwood on your behalf.”
