The Duke Identity (Game of Dukes #1)(77)

If she had any sense, she wouldn’t have reminded him of the damned verse. The words he’d so painstakingly and awkwardly penned. Yet his mortification no longer flowed like fresh blood, only itched like a healed-over scab. Ambrose had been right: he’d been a lad when he’d fallen in love with Celeste. He could forgive his younger self for trusting too readily. For being blinded by beauty.

What mattered was that he saw things clearly now.

And Tessa, he realized, had been the catalyst. With her spirit, humor, and honesty, she’d taught him to feel again. To trust again.

“What happened here?” Celeste extended a gloved fingertip toward his scarred eyebrow, not quite daring to touch him.

“What has your father done with my formula?”

Fear dilated her pupils. Her hand fell to her side, and she retreated a step. “I… I can’t…”

He took hold of her upper arms. “Tell me, Celeste.”

“I’m afraid,” she whispered. “Papa will be angry.”

He felt the quiver run through her and knew that, whatever else might be false, her distress was genuine. She’d always lived in fear of Aloysius De Witt. In the past, she’d denied physical abuses, but De Witt obviously controlled her with other methods. Harry could see that she’d been a pawn in her father’s game. He remembered how he’d once wanted to rescue her, protect her, and the memory of that gentled his tone.

“Tell me,” he repeated, “and perhaps I can help.”

“I don’t know the details. Only that he’s involved in some bad business.” She swallowed. “With bad men.”

“Who are these men?”

“I don’t know their names, but they’re brutes.” Suddenly, she launched herself at him, clinging to him like a vine. “Take me away from here. When you suggested it back then, I didn’t have the courage, but now—”

Before Harry could extricate himself, he heard a gasp. His head whipped toward the door. He saw the shock on Tessa’s face the instant before she ran.



* * *



Tessa fled down the hallway, turning a corner—a dead end, save for a door. She ducked blindly into the room. The library…and thankfully it appeared abandoned. There was no movement or sound from the shadowed maze of bookcases beyond the fireplace and sitting area.

She closed the door. Sagged against the wooden partition as she tried to collect herself. To calm her raging emotions.

How could he? she thought with fury and despair.

Take me away from here. When you suggested it back then, I didn’t have the courage.

Celeste De Witt’s passionate words rang in Tessa’s ears. Was Bennett having an affair with the woman? How long had he known her?

Even as Tessa’s heart ached, a chill permeated her, numbing some of her pain. Was there more going on between Bennett and the De Witts than she realized? When he’d told her about De Witt being a suspect in the hellfire, she’d accepted it blindly because she’d trusted him. Because she’d believed that he would protect her family.

Now she realized her mistake. Bennett had been lying to her, and who knew what else he was mixed up in? What if his intentions toward not only her but her family were dishonorable?

Panic joined the fray just as bootsteps stopped outside the room.

“Open the door,” Bennett’s voice commanded.

Tessa’s heart hammered against her ribs. “Go away, you lying bastard!”

“If you won’t open it, step aside.”

He wouldn’t dare. Just in case, she backed away.

The door exploded with such force that it hit the wall. Bennett stalked in, shutting the door behind him. He advanced toward her, his expression grim. “We need to talk.”

“I don’t want to hear any more of your lies.”

“I owe you an explanation.”

“Indeed,” she said acidly. “The time for that was before I caught you making love to the suspect’s daughter. Or was that a lie too? Did you fabricate the story of De Witt’s guilt?”

“What the devil?” For an instant, he looked nonplussed. Then he snagged her by the wrist. “We need privacy for this.”

He dragged her toward the bookshelves.

“Let go of me, you troglodyte!”

“Do you want to compromise your family’s safety? If so, shout louder so that everyone at this damned masquerade can hear you.”

She glared at him but kept her peace…for now. She allowed him to lead her into the labyrinth of bookcases. The stacks of leather-bound volumes created a strange hush. When they reached the dim and musty heart of the towering shelves, she shook free and faced him.

“I saw you with Miss De Witt in your arms,” she said in a furious whisper. “And I heard her say that you’d proposed running off with her before!”

“I did.”

His admission pierced her like a bullet. She reeled, unprepared for the impact.

“But that was a long time ago.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “Until tonight, I hadn’t seen her in over two years. Not since I was at Cambridge.”

“What were you doing in Cambridge?” She didn’t know why, but those were the words that popped out of her mouth.

“I was studying science.”