To Seduce a Sinner (Legend of the Four Soldiers #2)(42)

“I knew Horn when I was in the army,” he said. “He was a good friend back then. We’ve grown apart since.”

“You never speak of your time in the army.”

He shrugged. “It was six years ago.”

Her eyes narrowed. “How long were you commissioned?”

“Seven years.”

“And you held the rank of captain?”

“Indeed.”

“You saw action.”

It wasn’t a question, and he didn’t know if he should bother to answer. Action. Such a small word for the blood and sweat and screaming. The thundering of the cannons, the smoke and ashes, the corpses littering the field afterward. Action. Oh, yes, he’d seen action.

He sipped his tea to wash the taste of acid from his mouth. “I was at Quebec when we took the city. A tale I hope to someday tell our grandchildren.”

She looked away. “But that’s not where Lord St. Aubyn died.”

“No.” He smiled grimly. “Think you this is a pleasant conversation for the breakfast table?”

She didn’t back down from him. “Should not a wife know about her husband?”

“My time in the army is not everything I am.”

“No, but I think it is a fair part of you.”

And what could he say to that? She was right. Somehow she knew, though he didn’t think he’d given any sign. She knew he was changed, forever scarred and diminished, by what had happened in the north woods of America. Did he wear it like a badge of the devil? Could she see what he was? Did she know somehow of his deepest shame?

No, she must not. If she knew, her face would hold contempt. He looked down as he broke apart the rest of his bun.

“Perhaps you no longer want to accompany me this morning?” his wife asked softly.

He looked up at that. Sly creature. “I don’t scare that easily.”

Her eyes widened a bit. Perhaps his smile had shown too much teeth. Perhaps she’d seen Kps ighthe thing that lurked beneath. But she was brave, his wife.

“Then tell me,” she said, “about the army.”

“There’s not much to tell,” he lied. “I was a captain in the 28th.”

“That was Lord St. Aubyn’s rank as well,” Melisande said. “You bought your commissions together?”

“Yes.” So young, so thickheaded. He’d been mostly interested in the dashing uniform.

“I never knew Emeline’s brother,” Melisande said. “Not well, at least. I only saw him once or twice. What was he like?”

He swallowed the last of his bun, trying to buy time. He thought of Reynaud’s crooked grin, his dark laughing eyes. “Reynaud always knew he would someday inherit the earldom, and he spent his life rehearsing for that day.”

“What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “As a boy, he was too serious. That burden of responsibility marks a man, even when he’s but a child. Richard was the same way.”

“Your elder brother,” she murmured.

“Yes. He and Reynaud were more alike.” His mouth twisted at the old realization. “Reynaud should’ve chosen him as a friend, not me.”

“But perhaps Reynaud saw in you something that he himself lacked.”

He cocked his head and smiled. The idea that he should possess a feature that Richard, his perfect elder brother, lacked seemed comical. “What?”

She raised her eyebrows. “Your joy of life?”

He stared at her. Did she really see joy of life in the shell that was all that remained of him? “Perhaps.”

“I think so. You were a friend full of delight and mischief,” she said, and then, almost to herself, “How could he resist you?”

“You don’t know that.” His teeth scraped together. “You don’t know me.”

“Don’t I?” She rose from the table. “I think you’d be surprised how much I know you. Ten minutes, then?”

“What?” He was caught flat-footed and blinking up at his wife like a fool.

She smiled. Maybe she had a love of fools. “I’ll be ready to go shopping in ten minutes.”

And she slipped from the breakfast room, leaving him confused and intrigued.

MELISANDE WAS STANDING by the carriage consulting with Suchlike when Vale emerged from the town house a short time later. He ran down the front steps and sauntered over.

“Are you ready?” Melisande asked.

He spread his arms. “I am at your disposal, my lady wife.” He nodded to Suchlike. “You may go.”

The little maid flushed and looked worriedly at Melisande. Suchl Klisheiike usually came on these outings to consult with wardrobe selections and to carry packages. Vale was watching her, too, waiting to see if she’d object.

Melisande smiled tightly and nodded at the maid. “Perhaps you can do that mending.”

Suchlike bobbed a curtsy and went into the town house.

When Melisande turned back to Vale, he was eyeing Mouse, who was standing against her skirts.

She spoke before he could dismiss her dog as well. “Sir Mouse always accompanies me.”

“Ah.”

She nodded, glad that at least was established, and mounted the steps to the carriage. She settled on the plush seat that faced the front, and Mouse hopped up beside her. Vale sat facing her, his long legs stretched diagonally across the floor. It had seemed like a large—even huge—vehicle until he entered, and then the space was filled with male elbows and knees.