Page 47 of Ne'er Duke Well
“I am not quite sure I believe that you know your limitations, my dear. But nor do I think you know your own strengths.”
Selina drew back in surprise. Her own strengths? No one had ever accused her of not knowing her virtues—if anything, it was much the opposite. She always thought she knew what was best. She always believed she could take on anything and anyone. It was what had made her take up fencing and card games as a girl. It was what had driven her to chase Peter down in Hyde Park and throw herself into the Serpentine.
It was what had made her start the Venus catalog. Society had cast the women of her generation adrift—they were meant to be playthings, meant to be innocent and empty-headed and leave practical knowledge to the men who controlled their lives.
To hell with that. Selina had read books. She had learned. And she had taken it upon herself to change the way the women of thetonsaw their own place in the world.
“I’m not sure what you mean,” she said to Thomasin, one corner of her mouth rising wryly. “I’m quite confident in my knowledge of both.”
Thomasin gazed at her, blue eyes soft. “We both know you can command a room, of course. You can organize a dinner party for twenty without a blink, and you’ve probably secured marriage proposals for half of the debutantes of the last four years.”
Selina tilted her head in acknowledgment. True, true, and—well, half might be an overstatement. She’d had a hand in probably a third.
“Those are strengths, to be sure. But your greatest strength is your heart.”
Selina bit her bottom lip and then let it go and pressed her lips together. “I care about my family.”
“Youcare, Selina. About us, yes. About Lydia. But also about Iris Duggleby and Ivy Price and the Halifax twins. About Stanhope and those precious children. You care so much that I worry, sometimes, for you. You cannot solve every problem, Selina, no matter how hard you try.” Her face was gentle. “Stanhope may not get the children. He may not marry before his petition comes before the courts, and he almost certainly won’t be engaged by the dinner party we’re hosting for the Eldons next week. And if it doesn’t go as you planned, I don’t want you to be hurt.”
“I know,” Selina said. “Believe me, I know.”
If Thomasin knew about Belvoir’s, she’d realize that Selina lived every day with the knowledge that she couldn’t predict what the future held. If Thomasin knew, she’d realize that Selina’s fierce wrangling for control over the rest of her life was bound up in the way that she couldn’t control when and how the Belvoir’s scandal would eventually break.
Not for the first time, Selina considered telling Thomasin about Belvoir’s. Thomasin wouldn’t be angry—she was never angry.
But she might be hurt. She might blink back tears of shock and disappointment, and if that happened, Selina didn’t think she could bear it.
She wasproudof what she’d done with Belvoir’s, the difference she’d made for the women of her generation. And she couldn’t stand it if her family knew the truth and didn’t feel the same way.
“Tell me,” said Thomasin quietly. “Does your Stanhope project have anything to do with Will?”
Selina drew a quick breath. “No. No. What would it have to do with Will?”
“After we lost Katherine and the baby. I know how desperately you wanted to fix things for Will.”
“I did.” Her voice rasped a little, even now, when she thought of her brother’s wife and the baby who had died. “I still do. I want him to come home and I want to wrap him in cotton wool and never let him be hurt again.”
“But you know you cannot.”
She swallowed against the burning in her throat. “I know I cannot. He’ll come home when he’s ready.” It was hard to think of him so far away, to read letters written weeks or months before, not knowing if on any given day he was safe and whole.
She didn’t know if her twin would ever be whole again.
“I wondered if you saw Will in Stanhope’s younger brother. If you thought by rescuing those children, you might be rescuing Will, somehow. It would be perfectly understandable.”
Selina shook her head. “I want to help Stanhope and the children because they deserve to be together. It’s not because of Will. I know—” Her blasted voice broke, and she coughed shortly, angry with herself. “—I know I can’t fix Will. Nothing can repair what he’s lost.”
“He’ll come home,” Thomasin said. “In time. He’ll smile again, Selina. I promise.”
Her vision was blurred, and she reached up to press the heels of her hands to her eyes. They came away wet. Senseless tears.
“I hate it,” she said finally. “I hate that I can’t make things right.”
Thomasin reached across the abandoned apricots to pull Selina into an embrace. “I know, my darling. I know.”
“I love him so much,” she said, and let herself be held. Just for a moment. “I wish that was enough to bring him home.”
“It is. It will.” Thomasin passed a hand gently over her hair, and for once it felt good to let someone else be in charge. To let someone else do the caring. “Love and patience and bravery are always enough. And you have those in abundance.”
