The Duke Meets His Match (The Infamous Somertons #3)(48)

He rolled to the side and tucked her curves against him. “I’m a changed man.”

She leaned back to study his face and caught his grin. She reached out to touch the ruffled dark hair that clung to his damp brow. “Because you spoke of the past?” she teased.

He caught her hand and kissed her palm. “No. Because of you.”

Her heartbeat throbbed in her ears. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from his handsome profile. “I knew you could talk about the war.”

He studied her thoughtfully. “Chloe, I admit that I’m relieved I was able to speak about the battle without triggering an episode, but you must know it could happen again.”

“I didn’t expect you to be cured. The soldier I spoke with only said it improves over time and that he must keep speaking about the trauma until it is no longer shocking. Only then did his symptoms ease. There is hope for you, Michael.”

“Hope,” he echoed. “It’s a wonderful word and I shall try to remember it.” Leaning up on an elbow, he looked at her. “You couldn’t have known I was in my study poring over old war maps. Why did you come today?”

She bit her lip. “I kept thinking about your distress from the fireworks. If there was a chance I could help, then I had to try.”

“I’m grateful.” He brushed her forehead with a kiss. “I’ve treated you badly in the past, and I owe you a service for helping me. I want you to know that I’d never do anything to harm you.”

Harm? Time had changed much between them. She knew he would never reveal that she’d been a pickpocket. At least that secret was safe from her family and society. But there were other secrets from her past, secrets that no one knew, not even Michael. She’d always planned and hoped they would stay deeply buried in the recesses of her mind, but for the first time, she wanted to reveal everything. To share her burdens with another.

Was it possible?

The risks were high. After all they’d shared, she did not believe he would speak of her shameful secrets, but there were other forms of harm, those far more painful than she’d ever imagined.

Disappointment. Disgust. Rejection.

He respected her now, but would he after she told him everything?

She could not stop herself from pondering the question: if speaking about the past had helped Michael, would it help her as well? Her soul ached with the need to unburden her own guilt. Was it possible for her to do so?

She reached for his hand. “I believe I should take my own advice. There’s something I wish to tell you.”





Chapter Twenty


She waited until they were dressed and sitting side by side next to the hearth. His arm was wrapped around her shoulders and gave her strength. “I haven’t told you everything about my past. You have been honest about your own, and I’d like to share mine.”

“I’m a good listener.”

She could barely meet his gaze. “You know I picked pockets. You know why.”

She felt him nod. “To help your sisters pay for your medicine.”

“Yes.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

He brushed his lips across her temple. “Go on.”

She took a deep breath and gathered her courage. “Mr. Allenson at the apothecary didn’t want filched handkerchiefs, brass buttons, or ladies’ jeweled pins. He wanted money. So I went to the only place I knew I could trade my filched wares for coin. The Seven Sins brothel. The proprietress, Madame Satine, was a sympathetic woman, and she paid me for the trinkets. She gave them to her girls as rewards. My relationship with Madame was a strictly business arrangement. No one ever learned of it. Not my sisters. Not Huntingdon or Vale. No one.”

If the truth came out, the scandal would be enormous. Even worse than when their father’s art forgeries were discovered. It didn’t matter that she’d never worked on her back in the brothel. Respectable females wouldn’t be caught near a brothel, let alone inside the establishment, speaking with its proprietress.

And what was her excuse? She’d stolen items and had sought to sell them for coins.

Goodness. Could it be any worse?

She was afraid to look at him. Afraid to meet his gaze and see disappointment, anger, or worse, that he was disgusted by her. How could she blame him? She was ashamed of her past, and she never felt worthy to be in his world. Anguish seared her heart, and she bit back tears.

“Chloe.”

She shook her head, afraid to look at him.

“Chloe.” His slid a thumb beneath her chin and raised her gaze to his. At his heated look, an all too familiar tingling began in her stomach. Her heart squeezed. His look wasn’t repulsive, but warm.

“Is that all?”

She blinked in surprise. “Pardon?”

“Is that all of it?”

A knot inside her stomach eased an inch. Could he possibly think there was more?

She nodded. “That’s everything.”

“You have held this secret inside for all these years?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“You were so young. No one of such tender years should have suffered so gravely. You are a survivor, and you did what you had to do to help your sisters and live. I’ve known soldiers, trained military men, who’d given up on the battlefield rather than fight to survive as you did. What makes you think I would not admire you?”