Tall, Duke, and Dangerous (Hazards of Dukes #2) - Megan Frampton Page 0,94

interrupted.

The dowager duchess gave a vigorous shake of her head. “I have been here only for a short time, but I know that you are nothing like him.”

“That is what I have been telling him,” his mother exclaimed.

“If you were, you would have tossed me out on my ear when I demanded you marry. But you knew it was for the greater good, even though I could see how much it chafed at you. And there’s the little matter of you taking in all of my son’s . . . mistakes.”

Did everybody know?

“This lady, this Ana Maria,” Nash’s mother said, looking intently at him. “Do you think you can convince her that you are worthy?”

He glanced between his mother and grandmother, both of whose eyes glimmered with compassion, and spoke honestly. “I don’t know. But I have to try.”

The carriage ride home—or more accurately, to Thaddeus’s house—was a silent one.

Because it wasn’t home, even though it was the only home she’d ever known.

She had never felt as though she belonged, and right now, she felt that not belonging even more acutely. It was as though she were suspended on a wire between a dirty kitchen grate and an elegant ballroom, and she didn’t want to be in either one.

She wanted to be where she belonged.

“Ana Maria?” Thaddeus spoke tentatively, not at all in his usual way. “Is there—do you want to talk?” He gestured toward his study as he spoke.

“Yes.”

She led the way to his study, the images of the day—now long into evening—flooding her memory.

His care in her pleasure. His attention on her as he taught her the things she’d asked for. How he’d looked when they’d been discovered.

His clenched fists. But he hadn’t used them. He’d chosen not to.

“Look,” Thaddeus began, sitting at his desk, “you have every reason to be angry with me. With us.”

Ana Maria nodded. “I do.”

Thaddeus blinked in surprise. “Yes. Well. The thing is, we only want what is best for you.”

She tilted her head. “How is Nash not best for me?” She spread her hands out in question. “Isn’t he your friend?”

Sebastian strode into the room, glancing between the two of them as he heard her question. His expression tightened.

Ana Maria turned to face him. “I was just asking Thaddeus why he believes Nash isn’t the best for me. Perhaps you have something to share on the topic?”

It felt exhilarating to challenge them, even though it also felt enervating.

Lady Oxymoron.

“But you don’t want him, you just said so!” Sebastian exclaimed, flinging his hands up in the air.

“I am entirely contrary,” she replied. “But on second thought, never mind. Don’t answer the question. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Sebastian took a deep breath, then stepped forward to wrap her in his arms. She allowed it, curling her face into his chest, feeling herself beginning to sob.

“We love you so much,” he said. She felt another hand on her back, and knew that Thaddeus had joined the circle.

“Yes, we do,” he said, sounding stiff. “We likely wouldn’t think anybody would be good enough for you. Even our closest friend.”

She sobbed harder, and Sebastian held her tightly as Thaddeus patted her back.

“Do you love him?” Sebastian asked after a few minutes.

She nodded, lifting her head to speak. “It doesn’t matter, though. It doesn’t.”

“We could hit him,” Sebastian suggested in a hopeful tone. She chuckled slightly in response.

“That wouldn’t solve anything.” Nash himself could attest to that.

“But it would make us feel better,” Sebastian said.

She took a deep breath, stepping out of his arms, turning to face both of them. “Thank you both.” She wiped her eyes and straightened her shoulders. “I am not going to rely on you two to solve my problems,” she said. “I am going to solve them myself.”

“If you will pardon me, sir, I have work to do.”

Nash put his hand on the merchant’s arm. “I just want to tell you what I like about your range of fish.”

The merchant rolled his eyes. “I have to work, sir.”

Nash dug into his pocket, withdrawing some coins, handing half of them to the merchant, whose face lit up. “If you’ll just give me a bit more time,” he said.

“Of course,” the man replied, his tone changing at the sight of the coins.

“Tell me, are sprats always this small?” He reached into the pile of fish and withdrew one, holding it up to his nose. It had a fishy smell, naturally. “Of course they are, I can see that.” He reached over to another pile. “Whelks are