The Study of Seduction (Sinful Suitors, #2)(68)

“Which is why I’m trusting you to tell Yvette as much or as little as you deem wise. You know her better than I.”

“Only because you keep things from her.” Keane searched his face. “You would keep this from her, too, wouldn’t you, if you had the choice? Just to protect her from being hurt.”

“Yes. It’s my only way to make up for Father’s and Samuel’s lapses.”

“The trouble is, she interprets your discretion as a lack of faith in her ability to weather trials and tribulations. You think you’re protecting her, but you’re really building a wall between you and her.”

As he always did when Keane started talking about how he should treat his sister, Edwin withdrew into formality. “As I said, you can be the judge of whether to tell her or not. Since you seem to know better than I on the subject.”

Apparently realizing how testy Edwin was getting, Keane said, “I didn’t mean—”

“If Durand never reveals it, then she need never know that her father was a traitor. But I can’t be sure he won’t. That’s why I’m telling you. So you won’t find yourself suddenly immersed in a scandal out of the blue.”

Keane nodded somberly. “Don’t worry about me and Yvette. I don’t give a damn about scandal, and she only worries about it for your sake. But if the two of you are in it together, she’ll stand by you and thumb her nose at the world.” He leaned back in his chair. “And you know me. I thumb my nose at the world as a matter of principle.”

“You’re an artist and an American. People expect that of you.” Edwin stared out the window. “They don’t expect it of me.”

“And Clarissa? How does she feel about all this?”

He gritted his teeth. “I haven’t told her.”

“What?”

“I told her he’s holding something over our heads, but I haven’t said what. I had to reveal that much just to get her to marry me.”

“I see.” Keane sipped some brandy. “In other words, Durand’s threats provided you with an excellent excuse for doing what you wanted in the first place.”

Edwin’s gaze shot to Keane. “What the devil does that mean? I did it for her benefit, not my own. I wasn’t going to leave her to that arse’s machinations.”

“Right. It had nothing to do with your desiring her, I’m sure.”

He glared at his friend. “Not everyone is as randy as you.”

“You don’t fool me.” The man chuckled. “Even an idiot could tell how you feel about Clarissa. In any case, it’s a good thing to desire one’s wife, isn’t it?”

“You have no idea,” Edwin muttered. He could never reveal the mortifying truth to Keane—that his desire for his wife was something she didn’t want. Not entirely. That he didn’t even know why she rebuffed him.

He wanted to believe that it had nothing to do with him, but he couldn’t. Because surely if someone else had hurt her, if all this was because of another man, she would tell him. And she had behaved very much like a virgin when he’d pleasured her with his mouth. It had startled her.

No, the fact that she wouldn’t say why, the fact that she pulled back every time he got close to entering her, could only mean it was due to her dislike of him.

Just give me a moment, and I’ll try . . . we can try—

God, the very idea of her having to drum up enthusiasm to share his bed sent chills down his spine.

He thrust that lowering thought from his mind. “In any case,” he said coolly, “it’s done now. Since our marriage, Durand has only made threats, but that doesn’t mean he won’t act on them down the road.”

Thankfully Keane let him return to the subject of the count. “And you don’t know what Durand’s reasons for pursuing her are. Other than some odd obsession with her.”

“No. As far as I know, he doesn’t need money. Or so Fulkham and Rathmoor said.”

Keane blinked. “You told them about the bastard?”

“Not exactly. I didn’t want Clarissa’s reputation tarnished, so I said I was asking on behalf of someone else in the club.”

With a flick of ash from his cigar, Keane said, “I don’t suppose you’d want to tell them about your father’s spying.”

“Right,” Edwin said snidely. “I’ll just run right out and tell Rathmoor, the man who stole my first fiancée, that my father sold his country to the French. Or better yet, I’ll tell Fulkham, who practically runs the War Office.” He shook his head. “Durand implied that he might implicate me in Father’s activities. Imagine if that happened.”

“He has no proof.”

“He has solid proof of Father’s activities. It wouldn’t take much to connect those to me. Besides, the press doesn’t need proof. All they need is a juicy story to foment scandal.” Edwin downed some brandy. “No, it seems wiser to stay in the country for a while and hope that our marriage discourages Durand enough for him to turn his attentions elsewhere. It’s not as if anyone could do anything to stop him, given his position and the delicacy of relations with the French right now.”

“I see your point.” Keane drew on his cigar. “But I do think you should tell Clarissa about it, at the very least.”