Chapter 17
Estella had barely finished her morning tea when the duchess summoned her.
The maid who appeared in the breakfast room doorway was perfectly polite, and the message was delivered with all the graciousness one would expect from the Duchess of Ashworth's household. But there was a certain practiced blankness in the maid’s expression that had Estella setting down her tea and following quickly.
She found the duchess in the drawing room, seated in her usual chair with an expression of such studied calm that Estella's stomach immediately dropped.
Thea was there too, which was…unexpected. Thea was perched on the settee, looking as though she'd been invited for morning calls and had wandered into a tribunal by accident.
"Sit down, Miss Hale," the duchess said.
Estella sat.
"Miss Evermore has been telling me about your evening." The duchess looked to Thea pointedly before returning her gaze to Estella.
Thea’s smile was sheepish. "She asked where we'd been last night… I'm a terrible liar."
"You are an adequate liar," the duchess corrected. "But you were at a disadvantage as I already knew where my ward had been. And with whom. I was merely confirming the fact."
A silence fell. Estella’s mouth grew too dry to speak.
It had been utterly foolish to go. She’d known that from the start, but curiosity and a good deal of spite had overridden good sense.
But who had told the duchess? Had it been Sebastian? Or one of the footmen? Perhaps a maid?
The duchess took a sip of her tea as Estella’s mind raced.
"A gaming hell," the duchess said sharply. "Without a chaperone."
"I had Thea." The response came quickly, just as it had the night before.
And just like Mr. Gage the night before, the duchess turned to give Thea a quick look. Thea straightened under the scrutiny.
"Miss Evermore, you are…how old?"
"One and twenty, Your Grace."
"One and twenty, and unmarried. And apparently accustomed to roaming London unaccompanied by any guardian or chaperone?" the duchess said.
"I don't really have—" Thea started, then seemed to think better of it. "That is, my circumstances are somewhat—"
"Who precisely is responsible for you, Miss Evermore?" The duchess's tone was not unkind, but it demanded an answer.
Thea opened her mouth. Closed it. Adjusted her spectacles.
"Never mind," the duchess said. But her eyes lingered on Thea with open curiosity for a moment longer before she turned back to Estella.
"Miss Hale. I have spent the better part of a month introducing you to the right people, securing invitations, arranging your wardrobe, and building a reputation that could open doors for you and your sister.
All of which you very nearly ruined by visiting a gaming establishment in the dead of night. "
The words stung. Mostly because they were accurate. Estella twined her fingers together to keep from fidgeting. "I know. And I'm sorry. It was…reckless."
"It was foolish," the duchess corrected. Then, more quietly, "Though I confess I'm curious what drove you to it."
Estella looked at her hands. She could give the simple answer. The mystery benefactor, the paid debts, the trail she’d followed. But that wasn't really why she'd gone.
Shame welled up in her. The duchess was right, of course. After all she’d done for Estella and her family, she hadn’t deserved what Estella had done.
And at the very least, she was owed a truthful explanation. Estella fumbled with her thoughts, trying to figure out where to begin. How much to admit. "I was angry," she said softly. "And hurt. I needed to do something."
The duchess was quiet for a moment. "Because of what happened at the ball."
Estella looked up, startled, and the duchess met her gaze. "You kissed him," the duchess said. "Or he kissed you. The specifics hardly matter. What matters is what happened afterward."
Estella's cheeks burned. "How— When—"
"Rest assured, Miss Hale. When it comes to you, Lord Blackwood, and anyone else affected by that fire, there is little I do not know."
Estella’s brows came down in confusion. Anyone else affected by the fire…?
Of course she recalled that the duchess’s sister had lost her life in that tragedy. But she hadn’t heard the other woman speak of that night before.
But the duchess was staring at her with an expectant look, and Estella swallowed hard.
"I kissed him," she said. "And he kissed me back. But then he told me it was a mistake. He told me everything he'd done for me this Season was out of obligation. Or…guilt, rather." The words poured out of her now.
Perhaps because the duchess was listening so patiently, and Thea wore such a kind expression.
She found her words coming out quicker and with an embarrassing amount of emotion.
"He’d only agreed to help with my debut because of the fire.
Because he blames himself for Andrew's death.
And then he told me he has an understanding with another woman.
A practical match." She sniffed far too loudly for polite company. "Mutually beneficial, he said."
The words tasted like ash. Perhaps because no one needed to point out that there would be no benefit in marrying Miss Estella Hale.
She had a dowry, yes, but it was of little consequence to an esteemed marquess like Sebastian.
And what else did she have to offer? A crumbling estate and a gambler of a father?
A little sister who'd need support and protection just as Estella did now?
Her head dipped as a wave of self-pity and humiliation washed over her.
The silence that followed her little speech only made Estella want to sink further into the settee. Were it to open up and swallow her whole, she’d have welcomed the escape. When she finally peeked over at Thea, she saw nothing but sympathy in her friend’s eyes.
As for the duchess, her expression was more difficult to discern. "He told you everything he's done was out of…guilt," she said slowly.
Estella nodded.
"And you believed him," the duchess added.
Estella shifted in her seat. "He was very convincing."
The duchess set her teacup down. "Miss Hale. I told you when we first met to use your eyes. To trust a man’s actions over his words. Do you remember?"
Estella nodded. "Yes, Your Grace."
"Good. Then let me ask you something." The duchess leaned forward slightly. "Forget what Blackwood said. Forget the words. I want you to think about what he did. Or rather, what he's done."
Estella frowned. "He pushed me away."
"Before that. Think about every action Sebastian has taken since this arrangement began."
The drawing room was quiet. Morning light fell through the windows and caught the dust motes drifting in the air as Estella…thought.
She thought about how he'd covered her with his coat in the rain.
How he'd protected her from Fairchild with such possessive authority.
How he'd kissed her back with a desperate hunger.
But also…the little things. His eyes on her, the twitch of his lips, the feel of his hand on her back.
Even the gentleness of his hands on her at that first ball.
The tenderness that had belied his gruff words.
Her lips parted as the memories came back one after another, ending with the emotion in his eyes the night before when he'd shown up at a gaming hell. He looked as though she'd scared him to death with her reckless actions.
And then she thought of the musicale. Of that look that had tormented her for days on end. She had a word for that look now. Longing.
It had been brief and cut off far too quickly, but she knew without a doubt that he'd looked at her with longing.
The duchess watched Estella’s expression change and a hint of a smile tugged at her lips. "Now tell me. Do you believe those were the actions of a man performing a duty?"
She'd felt this same flicker of hope before, on the terrace, right before he'd shut her down. She wasn't sure she could survive having it snuffed out twice. "But he said—"
"Yes, yes. He said it was guilt, and obligation, and mutually beneficial arrangements, and all manner of rubbish that sounded very noble and proper.
" The duchess's voice held a thread of something fierce.
"But the man who came to me and agreed to upend his entire life for your Season did not do so because of guilt.
" The duchess’s head tilted to the side as if she was reconsidering. "At least…not entirely."
Estella frowned at that. "Not entirely," she echoed. "But it did play a part."
The duchess’s expression softened. "Estella, you may be too young to understand this. But the heart is a complicated organ. Not every motive is so clean-cut as we’d like to imagine."
Estella fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve. That did not sit well. "So you think he is motivated by guilt?"
When the duchess didn't immediately answer, Thea stirred in her seat.
"If I may," she started. "From a purely logical standpoint."
The duchess waved a hand. "By all means."
"The first hypothesis," Thea said, pushing her spectacles up, "is that Lord Blackwood's stated motivations—guilt and obligation—are accurate, and his actions are consistent with those motivations.
The alternative hypothesis is that his stated motivations are false, and his actions reveal his true feelings. "
Estella stared at her. "Pardon?"
"Everything is an experiment if you look at it correctly.
" Thea's eyes were bright. "And the beautiful thing about hypotheses is that they can be tested.
If his actions are truly driven by guilt, then they should remain constant regardless of external stimulus.
For example, a guilty man doesn't get jealous.
Nor does the guilty man kiss his ward like—" She stopped.
Cleared her throat. "Well, like how you said he did. "
"So what are you suggesting?" Estella asked.
"Test it." Thea said it simply, as if it was obvious.
"To Her Grace’s point, you've been accepting his version of events on his word alone.
What if instead, you presented him with situations designed to provoke a response?
If he truly feels nothing beyond duty, his behavior won't change.
But if he feels something more…" Thea smiled. "The result will speak for itself."
The duchess was watching Thea with what appeared to be a mix of amusement and admiration. "You have a devious mind, Miss Evermore."
"On the contrary, I have a scientific mind." Thea paused. "Any deviousness is merely a by-product."
The duchess made a choking sound as she reached for her teacup. Estella suspected it was laughter.
Estella looked between the two of them. She wanted him to care. She could admit that much to herself. She’d wanted it that night on the terrace.
It was that hope that had made her lose her wits and kiss him. She’d wanted it rather desperately, and there was no use denying it.
Estella liked Lord Blackwood. The word “like” had never felt so tepid.
She liked the way he looked at her. She’d never felt so seen in her life as she did when the marquess had his eyes on her.
She adored the way his lips twitched when she amused him, and the way he commanded a room with his presence.
She had to admit, she even enjoyed his grim demeanor. There was a challenge to him. He didn’t give his smiles and laughter away easily, which made getting past his walls that much more of a reward. Any softness and wit were earned.
Estella just knew that if a lady were to win his heart, she’d be the sole owner. She’d have him, all of him. And he’d demand nothing less in return, and—
Goodness, how she wanted that. Her breath caught at the thought of what it would be like to be loved by this man. To be the one who was allowed to love him in turn.
Every other hypothetical future relationship paled in comparison to one so fierce and true.
A new warmth spread through her, along with a fierce determination to go after what she wanted. She’d been allowing the duchess and Sebastian to steer her entire life, all for the sake of Charlotte and her father. But what if she could have it all? Wasn’t that a future worth fighting for?
"Estella, are you all right?" Thea peered at her as if checking for symptoms of an illness.
The duchess studied her as well, but she looked more amused than concerned.
Estella straightened in her seat. "I’m fine. Just…thinking about what you said, Thea."
Thea had been right. Sebastian had set the terms of every interaction between them. He'd decided what their relationship was, just like he'd decided what the kiss meant.
Well. She'd been running a household for years. She’d practically raised Charlotte since their mother died, and she’d taken over running the household after Andrew died, and—
She could certainly manage one infuriating marquess.
"I’ll do it," she said suddenly. "I will prove whether he’s truthful about his motivations.
" She narrowed her eyes, looking into the distance as she plotted just how she might test Sebastian’s true feelings.
"If his interest in me is purely rooted in guilt, so be it.
But I owe it to us both to be certain." She looked to the duchess. "Do I not?"
"Indeed you do." The duchess’s smile made her appear younger and far less intimidating. But it faded quickly. "Estella… What exactly did Blackwood say about his guilt over the fire?"
Surprise had Estella looking over to Thea, but the other girl looked just as startled at the change in the conversation. No help there. "Well, he… He made it clear that he blames himself entirely."
The duchess’s flinch was so quick Estella nearly missed it.
"It seems he’s dedicated himself to making up for it, to the best of his ability," she added.
The duchess was quiet, and Estella considered asking “why do you wish to know?” but before she could, the duchess was back to her usual self—all calm control and unreadable expressions.
"It seems you have your work cut out for you, Miss Hale.
" She straightened as if to stand. "Please do let me know if you require assistance. "
The duchess stood and faced Thea. "That goes for you as well, Miss Evermore. Don’t think I have forgotten your role in all this. Nor have I forgotten that you seem to be a young, unmarried lady wandering alone in London."
Thea’s eyes widened in alarm, but she stayed silent.
The duchess huffed a laugh as she turned from Thea to Estella and back again. "But one problem at a time, I suppose."
And with that, she swept out of the room, leaving Estella and Thea staring after her.