Page 43 of The Duke’s Caught Bride

Kenneth took a step toward her. She could feel the heat radiating from him.

“You saw their faces. Charlie looked as though someone had struck him. Freddie went quiet, and Freddie is never quiet. I cannot sit at my own dinner table and watch my sons grieve a woman they never knew.”

“They grieve her already. Every day. They grieve her in the questions you will not answer and the rooms you have closed and the name you will not say. The grief exists whether you permit it or not. All you are choosing is whether they carry it alone.”

He did not speak. The clock on the mantel ticked through ten seconds of silence, then twenty.

“My role,” he said eventually, “is to protect my children.”

“Your role is to be their father.”

He looked up, and their eyes met.

“I am,” he murmured, his voice soft. “I am doing my best, Alice.”

She took a step toward him, her eyes pleading. “I believe you. But sometimes… sometimes children need love more than they need protection.”

“I do. I do love them,” he said. “I don’t think anyone will ever know how very much.”

A sad smile tugged at his lips, and he nodded once before retreating down the hall, leaving her staring at his back until he disappeared.

Chapter Fourteen

“Good morning, Your Grace.” The housekeeper curtsied. “His Grace left at dawn. A business meeting in the village. He expects to be gone most of the day.”

Alice descended the staircase at half past eight to find the breakfast room occupied by no one but Mrs. Finch, who stood beside the sideboard arranging the silver.

She pulled out her chair and sat down. The table had been set for five. Kenneth’s place lay undisturbed, his napkin still folded into its crisp peak, his coffee cup inverted on its saucer. She looked at it for a long moment.

“Did he leave word for the boys?”

“Only that they should continue their lessons as scheduled.” Mrs. Finch poured the tea without being asked. “And that Lord Nortley is welcome to make use of the library and the grounds.”

Alice nodded slowly.

Her husband had chosen to leave before dawn rather than face her across a breakfast table.

She was buttering a slice of toast when footsteps announced the arrival of her stepsons. Freddie entered at his customary velocity, Charlie three paces behind.

“Where’s Papa?” Freddie surveyed the empty chair while reaching for a bread roll.

“Your father has business in the village.” Alice kept her voice level. “He will return this evening.”

Freddie shrugged and bit into the roll.

Charlie sat down, unfolded his napkin across his lap, and reached for the butter dish without comment. His face betrayed nothing, but Alice noticed the way his eyes moved to his father’s empty seat and lingered there before he turned to his plate.

Jonathan appeared in the doorway a few minutes later, dressed for the country in a brown coat and riding boots, his fair hair slightly mussed from sleep.

“Good morning, everyone.” He dropped into the chair beside her and accepted coffee from the footman. “I trust I have not missed the excitement. Where is our fearless Duke?”

“Gone,” Freddie said. “Business.”

“Business.” Jonathan’s tone carried the faintest edge. He glanced at Alice, and she pursed her lips.

“I must apologize for his absence,” she said. “I had hoped we might all spend the morning together.”

“Papa is always busy,” Freddie noted, reaching for a second roll. “He has papers. And meetings. And letters. And more papers. If you stacked all Papa’s papers on top of each other, they would reach the moon.”