Once a Wallflower, At Last His Love (Scandalous Seasons #6)(89)

“It’s because of Elizabeth, isn’t it,” Hugh’s question emerged haltingly, devoid of his usual anger and resentment.

His words drew her back from her pained musings. “What do you mean?”

His mouth tightened. “Well, he’s a duke and he is mad you have a sister who is simple.”

Her heart tugged. Oh, Hugh. So, this is what he believed. She perched a hip on the edge of the desk while plucking her mind for appropriate words to this very important conversation. “This is not about Elizabeth.” Then, Elizabeth was just another secret she’d kept from Sebastian. Still, she didn’t believe he’d resent the young woman’s existence. How could anyone who knew Elizabeth, her gentle spirit, her absolute joy in the face of great darkness, ever begrudge her for living?

“Then, what is it about?” Addie asked, sliding into the leather wing-backed chair at the foot of Sebastian’s desk.

“This is about me,” Hermione said softly.

“It’s because he didn’t want to marry you, but you forced him to,” Hugh added.

Before Hermione could reply, Addie turned to Hugh. “That doesn’t make any sense, Hugh. A lady cannot force a gentleman like the duke to wed her unless he wished it.”

Hermione glared him into silence.

Alas, he possessed her same spirit of persistence. “If he loved her then why doesn’t he live here?”

Addie frowned, and Hermione could all but see the wheels churning in her little girl’s mind. She scratched her brow. “Why doesn’t he live here?” She tapped the tip of her finger against her lip. “And why do you still have those hideous yellow gowns aunt insisted you wear if you’re a duchess, and Hugh,” she motioned to her brother as though there were perhaps another Hugh present, “is a duchess’ sister, so why does he still not attend Eton?”

“I daresay I wouldn’t even know which of those very important questions to answer.” Hermione went and took her sister by the shoulders. “Now, off you go. I need to finish my story for Mr. Werksman.” She steered the girl toward the doorway.

“You’re trying to be rid of me, aren’t you?” Addie shot a pointed frown over her shoulder as Hermione guided her out of the room. “You always do that when you don’t want to talk about something.”

“Perhaps.” She winked. “But I do have to finish The Nefarious,” Now Charming. “Duke.”

Addie dug her heels in and glanced back at her brother. “And how come he is always allowed to remain?”

“Because I’m older,” he shot back.

Because he was constantly causing mischief.

Her sister snorted. “You’re only eighteen minutes older.” She turned swiftly back to Hermione. “Why is he allowed to remain? He’s rude and foul and—”

Hermione clapped her hands once, interrupting the remainder of those inciting words, and settled for the bane of every child’s question. “Because, I said so.” Her sister’s lips formed a moue of displeasure and then she stomped from the room.

“Elder sisters,” she muttered under her breath and then slammed the door in her wake.

She folded her arms across her chest.

Hugh scuffed Sebastian’s Aubusson carpet with the tip of his boot. “What?” he asked defensively.

She continued to study him in silence. He dropped his gaze to the floor. “You are Papa’s heir. As the eldest boy, you have a responsibility to protect your sister from hurt.” She wandered closer. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

He hesitated and then gave a jerky nod. “Have you finished?”

Hermione sighed at his belligerent tone. Her brother was in dire need of a strong, male influence in his life, of which their family was remarkably lacking. “That is all.”

He started for the door and then froze. “I hate him,” he uttered the familiar three lines to the thick door with such vitriol a shiver stole down her spine.

He and Addie, they’d been forced to grow up far sooner than they should have. “Oh, Hugh,” she said softly. She closed the distance between them. “Look at me.” When he remained immobile, Hermione dropped to a knee and touched a hand to his shoulder, forcing him around. “Look at me,” she repeated, infusing a firm edge to those three words.

He reluctantly met her gaze.

“He loves you and he is, for all his failings, remarkable in other ways.” After all, most any other baronet, prince, or nobleman between would have sent Elizabeth away after her illness had robbed her of her mind. Papa had not. He continued to, at least through Nurse Partridge, care for her. The flaws against his other children could slightly be pardoned for the devotion he’d shown Elizabeth.

“Not Papa.” Hugh wrinkled his nose, in a way so very much like their younger sister. “The duke. Your duke.” He glared at Sebastian’s desk, nearly singeing the duke’s inanimate possession with his heated ire. “He’s just like Papa—”

She sank back on her haunches, stunned. “He is not, Hugh.” Sebastian hadn’t stopped caring for his family. He’d merely ceased caring about her. Those were entirely different.

“Then he’s just like Lord Cavendish.”

“No.” A denial exploded from her. “No, he’s not.” Lord Cavendish represented the basest, most vile aspect of a black-hearted human being. In taking advantage of a beautiful woman, who in her mind would remain a forever child, he’d demonstrated a depravity that chilled. “He is nothing like Lord Cavendish.” She held up a finger when he made to speak. “I wronged him, Hugh.” Her admission stunned him into silence. He stared wide-eyed at her. She cuffed him gently under the chin. “Come, you’ve read the pages to know what they’ve accused me of.”