Page 54 of The Duke Meets His Match

The risks were high. After all they’d shared, she did not believe he would speak of her shameful secrets, but there were other forms of harm, those far more painful than she’d ever imagined.

Disappointment. Disgust. Rejection.

He respected her now, but would he after she told him everything?

She could not stop herself from pondering the question: if speaking about the past had helped Michael, would it help her as well? Her soul ached with the need to unburden her own guilt. Was it possible for her to do so?

She reached for his hand. “I believe I should take my own advice. There’s something I wish to tell you.”

Chapter Twenty

She waited until they were dressed and sitting side by side next to the hearth. His arm was wrapped around her shoulders and gave her strength. “I haven’t told you everything about my past. You have been honest about your own, and I’d like to share mine.”

“I’m a good listener.”

She could barely meet his gaze. “You know I picked pockets. You know why.”

She felt him nod. “To help your sisters pay for your medicine.”

“Yes.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

He brushed his lips across her temple. “Go on.”

She took a deep breath and gathered her courage. “Mr. Allenson at the apothecary didn’t want filched handkerchiefs, brass buttons, or ladies’ jeweled pins. He wanted money. So I went to the only place I knew I could trade my filched wares for coin. The Seven Sins brothel. The proprietress, Madame Satine, was a sympathetic woman, and she paid me for the trinkets. She gave them to her girls as rewards. My relationship with Madame was a strictly business arrangement. No one ever learned of it. Not my sisters. Not Huntingdon or Vale. No one.”

If the truth came out, the scandal would be enormous. Even worse than when their father’s art forgeries were discovered. It didn’t matter that she’d never worked on her back in the brothel. Respectable females wouldn’t be caught near a brothel, let alone inside the establishment, speaking with its proprietress.

And what was her excuse? She’d stolen items and had sought to sell them for coins.

Goodness. Could it be any worse?

She was afraid to look at him. Afraid to meet his gaze and see disappointment, anger, or worse, that he was disgusted by her. How could she blame him? She was ashamed of her past, and she never felt worthy to be in his world. Anguish seared her heart, and she bit back tears.

“Chloe.”

She shook her head, afraid to look at him.

“Chloe.” His slid a thumb beneath her chin and raised her gaze to his. At his heated look, an all too familiar tingling began in her stomach. Her heart squeezed. His look wasn’t repulsive, but warm.

“Is that all?”

She blinked in surprise. “Pardon?”

“Is that all of it?”

A knot inside her stomach eased an inch. Could he possibly think there was more?

She nodded. “That’s everything.”

“You have held this secret inside for all these years?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“You were so young. No one of such tender years should have suffered so gravely. You are a survivor, and you did what you had to do to help your sisters and live. I’ve known soldiers, trained military men, who’d given up on the battlefield rather than fight to survive as you did. What makes you think I would not admire you?”

“Admire me? I’m ashamed of my past.”

“There is nothing to be ashamed of, love.”