that Rohan had provided, put the perfect smile on her face and followed Mrs. Clarke down the broad staircase of the château with its odd architecture.
It was bisected—one half was kept locked, and Mrs. Clarke warned her against wandering into those parts. Her imagination had gone wild, and she’d tried to peek through windows when she’d walked out on the grounds, but it all looked distressingly normal. A little ornate and ostentatious, unlike the comfortable quarters of the rest of the house, including her bedroom.
“He’s in the library, miss,” Mrs. Clarke said, barely concealing her smile. Lydia paused by the door, just for a moment to remind herself why she was doing this. Clearly Mrs. Clarke approved, though she hadn’t seemed to have much of an opinion of Etienne before, and Etienne treated the housekeeper like a peasant. But if Mrs. Clarke had decided she liked him then clearly there was more to Etienne than Lydia had at first imagined.
She pushed open the door, breezing through. “Etienne, I had no idea you’d be able to make it today…” Her words trailed off, and Charles Reading turned to look at her, and she froze where she was halfway across the room.
“I’m sorry, I’m not Etienne,” he said, his rueful smile twisting his face.
Oh, merciful heavens, she thought, swallowing. How was she going to get through this? If she was just assured that she’d never have to see Charles Reading again, never be alone with him, never look into his dark, unreadable eyes, then she might be able to do what she needed to do.
“Why…why are you here?” she stammered. “I’m sorry, that’s unforgivably rude. It’s just I was so surprised. May I have Mrs. Clarke bring you some tea? You’ve had a long ride. Perhaps something to eat? It’s no trouble, I assure you, I can just…”
While she nattered on he crossed the room to her, taking her hand. “Hush,” he said. “Hush, Lydia.”
She stared up at him, and a sudden dread filled her. For him to have used her name meant dire things were afoot. “Has something happened to Elinor? Is she all right?”
“She’s fine. Rohan says she may leave, and I thought I would see if you wanted to return to Paris.”
“He’s letting her go?” The panic did a quick dip into pain. Elinor loved him. Lydia knew it as well as she knew her own heart, hopeless as it was. She’d hoped for some kind of happiness for one of them. If he was letting her go then that hope was dashed.
“He is.”
She suddenly realized he was still holding her hand in his gloved one. She pulled it away quickly. “And where will we go?”
“He’s an honorable man…”
“Lord Rohan?” Lydia said, walking away from him. Her earlier approval had vanished with his release of Elinor. Clearly she’d mistaken his interest. “I take leave to doubt that.”
“He has an honor of his own. He’ll see to it that she has enough money to return to England and live there.”
“That’s a high price for a short-term whore,” she said bitterly.
“You shouldn’t call your sister names.”
“It’s not my sister’s fault. And you, you’re part and parcel of this. Did you take your turn at her as well?”
The ice had built up in his eyes again, and his expression was blank. “Hardly,” he said.
“Oh, that’s right, the Revels were in full swing. You probably had half a dozen other women to service.”
He looked at her long and hard, and then a light came into his eyes. “No,” he said simply.
“No? Don’t tell me you’ve reformed?”
“I wouldn’t go that far. But I lost interest in whores long ago, I’m afraid.”
“How noble.” She didn’t know her voice could sound so harsh. “And what do you do instead?”
“Fall in love with unsuitable young ladies.”
That silenced her for a moment. And then she rallied. “How many?”
“How many what?”
“Unsuitable young ladies have you fallen in love with?”
“Only one.”
She was halfway across the room from him, the settee in between them. She liked it that way; he wouldn’t see that her knees were trembling. “And what do you intend to do about it?”
He turned, so she could see only the ruined side of his face. He did so deliberately, the foolish man, not realizing that she loved both halves of him. The whole of him. “I thought I’d be stupid enough to see if she would marry me anyway, instead of the wealthy doctor and heir to a title. She’d be a fool to do so, and I