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Warmth spread through his chest. He had never heard anyone say out loud that he wasn’t to blame. The only people he had told were his father and the coroner, but he had never told them what it did to him. That, perhaps, he had died with his mother, after all.

“My father thought the same thing I did, Calliope,” Nathaniel said. “When he saw me alone and heard Mama was dead, he crumpled into a ball. And in a pained, broken voice I had never heard from him before, told me, ‘You should have protected her!’”

“No!” cried Calliope again. “He should have sent more men with you—armed men. He shouldn’t have demanded that she travel so hastily that your carriage was on the road at night. It was his expectations and ambitions that killed her, not you, a fifteen-year-old who loved her.”

The truth of those words hit him like a cannonball. For the first time since that night, he stopped and considered the truth beyond what he had believed. He felt his tears slowing and blinked. Somehow, it became easier to breathe.

“It was a terrible, unthinkable event,” Calliope said softly, still holding his face in her hands, her eyes so full of empathy and love, his breath caught in his throat again. “She loved you very much, and she wouldn’t want you to live your life blaming yourself for something she did out of love. She gave you life—twice, as any loving mother would in a heartbeat.”

She kissed him then, and he wrapped his arms around her, marveling at the initiative she took. He could taste the salt on her lips, his tears mixed with hers, and he kissed her like there would never be tomorrow, because he didn’t want this to end. For the first time since that night, he felt understood. Appreciated.

“Thank you, Calliope,” he whispered against her lips. “Thank you.”

She chuckled without breaking the kiss. “Thank you, too, Nathaniel. For earlier… And for this wonder.”

William…his blood seethed just from thinking of that damned name. “No man can insult you and walk this earth unpunished,” he said as he looked at her.

Her lashes were still wet from tears, big eyes shimmering with something. He helped her to sit on the quilt he hadn’t used in fourteen years. It smelled musty, but he recognized every pattern Mama had carefully sewn. Not a task for a duchess, but she had enjoyed doing that in Kelford Manor when Papa was in London and she was free to do whatever she wanted. The fabric felt soft and thin under his fingers.

He poured wine into two glasses and handed one to Calliope.

“What happened with that bastard?” he asked. “Why did he dare to call you those terrible words?”

Calliope looked down at the quilt, her face turning red even in the bluish moonlight. “Because he saw me doing things a well-bred duke’s daughter shouldn’t do.”

He frowned, confused. “What?”

“Their family are neighbors of Grandhampton Court, and they spent summers visiting us. I grew up knowing William, and he was the object of my first girlish love. I adored him. Good-looking. Confident. Brave. Smart. A friend of my brothers. When I talked about detective stories that I loved, I thought his teasing was his way of showing he liked me back.”

She swallowed.

“There was one book in our vast library…one book I shouldn’t have found. You have it, actually.”

Nathaniel raised his brows. “Which one?”

“Villains and Velvet.”

He was just taking a sip of his wine, and hearing that title made him choke. He barely contained his wine in his mouth. He swallowed. “Villains and Velvet? You read it when you were an adolescent girl?”

He could see the beetroot blush on her face. “Yes.”

He needed to hide that book better. He imagined his sisters finding it and didn’t like it one bit. “What did you think of it?”

“I liked it,” she said quietly, her big eyes sheepishly meeting his from under her lashes. So unlike her. He remembered now how she had dropped it when she’d found it in his bedchamber. “It was the first time I realized my body could feel pleasure like I had never felt before.”

“I daresay,” he said hoarsely.

“But when I was reading it… I tried to do what the people in the stories did. I sat in the library…behind a desk, hidden…and touched myself.”

Nathaniel’s mouth went dry. She was so pliable, so wonderfully responsive when he caressed her, he was sure she was very sensual. And yet he saw fear in her eyes, and she had stopped him…and those tears… William… Anger started rolling in his whole body, fists clenching. He had an inkling where this was going.

“Let me guess. Did he see you?” he asked softly. “With the book? Touching yourself?”

Calliope looked defeated and nodded. “He did.”

Nathaniel suppressed a vile curse. “What did he do?”

Calliope didn’t reply for a long time, and her chest began rising and falling quicker and quicker. Her blush spread down to her chest, and her eyes filled with tears again. Goddamn it to hell, the urge to crush the bastard was itching every inch of his body. Instead, he put the glasses aside and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her. Her warm, small body fit so perfectly against him.