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It’s been, what, an hour? Why would he text me now? Why would he text me at all?
If Rhoda’s right, he uses sex to get over his demons. Maybe that’s all tonight was for him. A quick fuck to forget about the anniversary of the death of his entire family. Telling me he wanted to see me again was just good manners.
Right?
Or are my feelings true? There was something between us. Some sort of force that made our eyes meet across the room. An energy that flowed through us when we danced. And after, when we were alone…
Well, that was special. I’ve never experienced anything like it.
Shaking the thought away, I lean against the sofa and listen to my little sister tell me about her friends’ reaction to the photo. My eyelids feel heavy, and a soft smile tugs at my lips. A big fire is blazing in the fireplace, making me feel warm and comfortable and happy.
My mother enters the room, already changed out of her gown and in a matching set of silk pajamas with a long robe tied loosely at the waist. Her updo has been unpinned and makeup removed, and she looks like my mother again. I’m reminded that the image of the noble Duchess of Belcourt is just that—an image. One we need to uphold by marrying the right men.
Mother looks at Kiera. “Bedtime.”
Kiera sighs, closing her laptop and rolling her eyes. “Soon I’ll be at college, and you won’t be there to tell me my bedtime.”
“Maybe it’s not a good idea to send you there when you’re only fifteen.” My mother gives her a pointed stare, tilting her head.
Kiera drops her chin to her chest and stands up, waving at Maggie and me before heading out the door.
My mother turns to us, tightening her robe around her waist. “Count Gregory has invited you both to his Christmas dinner in two weeks.”
Maggie sits up, wincing as she moves her broken ankle. I help her adjust the cushions, giving her an encouraging nod.
My mother levels us with a stare. “I expect you both to act like the ladies you are. No sneaking off with Dukes.” Her eyes shift to me.
My cheeks burn hotter than they have in years. I stare at the carpet.
She looks at Maggie. “The Count seemed quite pleased with Ada, so we can assume the betrothal is still in the cards, despite your sister’s little disappearing act. His Christmas party will be crucial in making sure this happens.”
“I understand.” Maggie folds her hands in her lap, looking every bit a lady, even with a broken ankle.
“This is important, girls,” my mother says. “Kiera deserves the best, and we want to be able to send her to a good university. Count Gregory has contacts at all the top schools. He’s made donations to our number one pick for the past thirty years, and the dean of Farcliff University might be at his dinner party, too. You understand how important this is?”
Maggie nods again, her eyes downcast. Her long, thick lashes fan over her cheeks, and my heart squeezes painfully. She’s sacrificing so much for Kiera. For all of us. By marrying Count Gregory, she’s choosing our family’s reputation over her own future. Kiera’s education over the chance at a loving marriage.
Would I be able to do the same? Can I stand the thought of my sister giving up her whole future for us?
I put my hand over her good leg, squeezing gently.
She looks at me, nodding, then turns to Mother. “We won’t let you down.”
“Good.” My mother gives us a curt nod, then walks over to the sofa and places a kiss on each of our heads. I feel like a little girl again, and not a celebrated concert pianist with a bachelor’s degree.
Sadness clings to my spirit when I look at my sister, who looks resigned and calm and ready to face the weight of her obligations. She’s braver than I am.
Glancing at my phone, all I see is a dark screen. If things between the Duke of Blythe and me were ever to work out, would Maggie have to go through with this marriage? Could I save her from a lifetime of duty?
I can’t think like that. I had one night with the Duke. Heath. Even now, after a couple of hours, it feels wrong to call him by his first name—even in my head. We aren’t that familiar with each other. We had a fun, memorable Christmas ball at the palace. That’s all.
Right?
I go to bed and dream of him.
11
Heath
