Page 100 of Ne'er Duke Well
She had failed. He had come to her weeks ago, so certain that she could handle everything, fix everything—but she could not fix this.
She thought of the exhausted lines of his body, slumped over Freddie’s bed. She would not permit the children to be taken from him. She simply would not allow it. Somehow, Peter and the children had come to mean more to her than she could ever have imagined. More than Belvoir’s. More than her reputation or her very life.
Georgiana gave a short nod of assent. “I’ll stay away from you, if that’s what you need.”
“Yes,” Selina said, “do that.”
She watched Georgiana walk away and felt a cold splintering agony go through her. She could not do it. She was not strong enough.
She could pack her things and write a character for Emmie and tell her family—it would crush her, but she could do those things. But she could not leave Peter. She could not abandon him and the children. It would hurt them.Shewould hurt them.
But nor could she stay. It would be worse for them if she stayed. There was no way out—no way to put things right.
She was sobbing, she realized dazedly, breathless heaving sobs in the alley behind Belvoir’s. Someone was going to hear her.
She pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes ruthlessly, fighting back her tears, forcing herself to calm down.
And when she was able to breathe again, she made herself stand up straight. She made herself go back to her carriage and when she sat down inside, she imagined herself inside a brittle shell of ice.
She could not think about herself now. She had to do what was right forthem, for Peter and the children. And the right thing—the only thing—was for her to take herself as far from their lives as she could. They might be angry with her. They might be hurt. But they would survive it because they would be together, as a family.
She took the carriage home and prayed she would not break.
Chapter 26
Dearest brother: You may want to sit down.
—from Selina to Will
It was easy to locate Peter. He was in his study—the room she’d found him in the first time she’d come to the residence, the night she’d arrived to tell him about Belvoir’s. She’d had bookcases delivered, so at least now his books were no longer in stacks on the floor.
“Peter,” she said softly. He looked up from his quill and the sheet of foolscap, and his face shifted into sweet pleasure as he took her in.
“Thank God you’re here. I’m writing in circles, and have run out of synonyms forbadandwrong. How many times d’you think I can sayevilbefore I sound as though I’ve come stumbling out of a Gothic castle with bats in my belfry?”
She supposed this feeling was heartbreak, as she looked at his beloved grin and felt the words on her lips that would crush everything that had bloomed between them.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. He was so perceptive, curse him.
“We should sit down.”
He came around his desk and took her hands. She shouldn’t let him do that. She should pull back. She should pretend she did not need him.
Damn and blast her stupid eyes, she shouldstop crying. She reached up and dashed away her tears furiously.
“Selina, I am quickly losing any pretense at calm. What is the matter?”
“Belvoir’s.” She was trembling. She couldn’t help it, though she fisted her hands at her sides and tried to steady herself. “I know who’s been spreading the rumors. And worse, Peter—he knows now that it wasn’t Nicholas at all.”
He searched her face. That look—she was so silly over that look.
“You’re right,” he said. “Let’s sit down.”
She let him lead her over to the two chairs in front of the fireplace. Where they had kissed and touched. Where she had cried into his shirt.
This time she would not let him convince her that everything would turn out all right.
“Well,” he said when they were seated, “it’s fucking unfortunate timing.”
