Page 88 of His Grace, the Duke
“Is it wrong that I mourn my ignorance more than his loss? I mourn my lack of worry... I never worried before.”
“And with George at the helm you worry,” she intuited. “Constantly.” She went back to smoothing her fingers through his hair. “Do you resent him? George?”
He sighed, shifting his head. “I resent the rules. I resent that he inherits based on the whims of nature. He was born first, he was born a man, so he gets everything.”
“Thus spoke every sister who ever lived,” Rosalie mused.
They were both quiet for a moment before she added, “I think he resents the rules too. One more thing you have in common.”
“We have nothing in common,” he muttered. She just hummed, stroking his hair from brow to nape. “What else in common?” he asked.
“Hush, now. You’re meant to be sleeping.”
He turned his face to look up at her. “What else do we have in common?”
“You’re both pests determined to get your own way. A worse pair of horseflies, I’ve never known. Now rest, before I get cross.”
He rolled back on his side. “You barge into my study, order me around, force me on my belly like a dog... who is the bigger pest?”
She gave the hair at his nape a sharp tug. “Ouch.” He slapped his hand over hers.
“Rest, James. Or I shall take my lap with me and find a quieter corner of the house in which to read.” She made like she was going to get up.
“No.” His arm curled around her. “Stay.”
She smiled, settling back down, her hand going back to his hair.
They were quiet for a few more minutes. “Where did you go?” he murmured.
“Hmm?”
“With George the other night... where did you go?”
She smiled, setting her book aside. She’d wondered when one of them was going to ask. Burke and Tom had been too preoccupied with comforting her. “He took me to a house party hosted by his friend. She was a lovely lady, very obliging and kind. We had dinner and played cards.”
James stilled. “Where was this house party?”
“Leicester Square, I believe.” James groaned. “James?”
“What was her name... the lovely lady who hosted you?”
“Helene Trudeau.”
Then he was laughing. It was a deep sound that vibrated through him into her.
“James—”
After a minute, he relaxed. “Goddamn George straight to hell,” he muttered.
She didn’t like this feeling of jealousy creeping up her spine. “Who is she to you?”
“To me?” He gave another dry laugh. “She is nothing to me. I’ve only met the woman once or twice in my life. She was my father’s mistress. She used to live here in this house until he died. Then my mother forced her out. George still provides for her.”
Rosalie wasn’t sure what she had expected him to say, but it certainly wasn’t that. “Oh... I... are you upset that I met her?”
Reaching up, he took her hand, entwining their fingers together. He rested their joined hands on the pillow by his face. She could feel his warm breath on her skin. “I’m not upset that you met Helene. I’m upset you needed comfort and turned to George instead of me.”
Tears pricked the corners of her eyes.
