Chapter 28
Twenty-Eight
April paused at the top of the staircase at the sound of laughter wafting up from the drawing room below.
“You have always been taciturn, Theodore,” came Loretta’s voice, light and airy, “but your smile is still golden.”
April descended slowly, her hand trailing the banister. Loretta sounded very familiar with Theo.
She stepped inside and found Loretta perched elegantly on the settee, clad in a deep red silk dress with a neckline that flirted shamelessly with the bounds of propriety. Theo stood across from her, hands clasped behind his back.
“Nice of you to join us, Your Grace,” Loretta said with a tilt of her head when she saw April, and her eyes moved over her as though she was determining her worth. “Theo and I were just reminiscing about our childhood.”
April’s brow lifted. “Oh? Did you grow up together?”
Theo moved toward April then and offered his arm. She accepted it, feeling the familiar warmth of his presence. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles, his eyes holding hers. The contact sent a strange warmth down her spine.
He is always so composed. So still. And yet, one glance, and I forget how to breathe.
“We are the same age,” Loretta continued smoothly. “Our families were neighbors in Kent. When Theo went to live with Lady Darnell, she invited me often. We were—are—very good friends.”
April smiled politely and turned to her husband. “Is that so?”
Theo glanced at Loretta then back at April. “Indeed.”
And I am only just learning about it. April shifted her weight from one foot to the other, feeling disconcerted by the familiarity between this woman and her husband.
Gregory entered then with a bright smile. He approached April and bowed gallantly. “Your Grace, what a pleasure. I must ask. Does having us here improve the atmosphere? I imagine our presence is a welcome change from the dull company of our dear Theo. He’s the dullest of men, you know.”
April laughed softly. “We are glad to have your company, Mr. Roth.”
“Do not wound me in front of my wife, Gregory,” Theo muttered dryly.
Gregory laughed. “He knows it’s true.”
A footman appeared at the threshold. “Dinner is served.”
As they entered the dining room, April noticed the table had been laid out in formal elegance. Her place was set at Theo’s right, but somehow it made her pulse stir.
She sat and reminded herself that this was the order of things now.
As the first course was served, Gregory looked around appreciatively. “Stone Hall looks rather different.”
“April has been overseeing the renovations,” Theo explained. “She has quite the eye for balance and color. You must see the music room—she’s done wonders with it.”
April blinked. He is proud of it?
“Impressive,” Gregory said. “You have taste, Your Grace.”
“I wonder,” Loretta interjected with a light smile, “what is your taste in fashion, Your Grace?”
April sipped her wine before replying. “I favor Venetian styles.”
Loretta’s brows arched. “Oh, charming, I suppose. Though I’ve always found French fashion to be far more… superior.”
April offered a thin smile. “Perhaps. But no one can rival Venice in musical artistry.”
“That depends on who you ask,” Loretta argued. “I hold the view that Venetian musicians are still not superior.”
This woman has no knowledge of music. Perhaps I should truly test her. “Indeed,” April replied, “though one must first know the difference between a sonata and a nocturne to begin the discussion of who the superior musicians are.”
Loretta opened her mouth but faltered, her expression tightening.
April turned her attention to her soup, only to feel eyes on her. She glanced up to find Theo watching her.
Her cheeks warmed. His gaze was unreadable, and when the corner of his mouth curved upward, she felt her breath catch.
Why must he look at me like that?
Gregory’s voice broke the moment. “Do you play, Your Grace?”
“She plays like an angel,” Theo said.
Loretta leaned forward. “And what other talents do you possess, Your Grace?”
“I adore reading,” April replied.
Loretta laughed lightly. “Reading? That is hardly a talent.”
April’s smile did not falter. “Then you ought to take it up. It might broaden your perception of the world.”
Gregory coughed and gave his wife a warning glance. “My dear.”
After the final course, Gregory rose. “You must play for us. The music room, shall we?”
They relocated, April leading the way into the warmly lit room. She sat at the pianoforte and began a piece with light fingers. The melody filled the space.
She was surprised when Theo joined her, taking a seat beside her and playing the lower accompaniment. The harmony between them felt like something unspoken, something long overdue.
Their fingers danced across the keys until the final note drifted into silence.
Loretta clapped delicately. “Theo used to play that for me.”
April turned her head slowly. Her stomach knotted.
Theo smiled faintly.
It takes so much to earn even a grin from him. And she gets one so easily.
Gregory stood. “And I play for my wife every week. Come, Loretta, let us not impose further. You’ve had too much sherry.”
He took her arm and guided her firmly toward the door, casting an apologetic glance over his shoulder.
When the door shut, April rose.
Theo watched her. “You’re leaving?”
“Yes.”
He caught her wrist, drawing her close. She stumbled slightly and landed against his chest, his arm around her waist.
His heartbeat is strong. Steady. And mine… mine is a traitor.
“What is the matter?”
She shook her head. “Nothing.”
He did not release her. His gaze searched hers, deep and quiet.
Why do I feel like I am losing a battle I did not know I had begun?
“Good night, Theo.”
She slipped from his grasp and walked out, her chest tight with what she could not name.
Theo raised his hand to knock on April’s door. His knuckles hovered inches from the wood, but he stilled, his hand dropping to his side with a quiet sigh.
The air between them had grown brittle, like the crust atop a frozen stream—beautiful and fragile, liable to crack at the slightest weight. He knew she was upset. He knew Loretta had something to do with it. But knowing and mending were not the same.
He turned and descended the stairs, the hush of the manor pressing in around him. Stone Hall had never been particularly warm, but tonight, it felt colder still, stripped of its faint joy.
On his way to the study, he passed Gregory in the hallway, decanter in hand and that ever-ready grin in place.
“Theo,” Gregory called out, lifting the crystal decanter like a prize. “Come, join me for a drink. It is from Vienna, rich as a widow and just as dangerous. Let us toast your marriage and perhaps dull the edges of wedded bliss with a round of chess.”
Theo gave a small nod. “Very well.”
They entered the drawing room where the fire snapped and glowed. Gregory poured the amber liquid into two cut-glass tumblers and gestured toward the chess table near the hearth.
As the pieces began to move, Gregory leaned back and watched the flames dance.
“You chose well,” he said at last. “Your Duchess is as beautiful as she is intelligent. Rare combination, that.”
Theo moved his rook deliberately. “The Roth men always choose well.”
But inwardly, his thoughts stirred. Loretta had once been charming—lovely, gregarious, confident. Now, her beauty remained but there was an acerbic edge to her, a veiled arrogance that clung like heavy perfume.
April would never speak in such veiled barbs. She doesn’t cloak her truths. She lives them.
He stared at the board a moment, his gaze unfocused.
Only one woman mattered now.
“How fared your tour of the Continent?” Theo asked, capturing Gregory’s knight.
Gregory gave a rueful chuckle. “The boys adored it. Especially Florence. Samuel tried to befriend a street performer. Everett chased pigeons through the piazzas. Loretta, however, found nearly every element beneath her. The beds were too hard, the weather too damp, the musicians too loud.”
“I take it the journey was not restful,” Theo observed, sliding a bishop.
“Hardly. She was not always like this.” Gregory swirled his drink. “There was a time when she would have danced in the rain, laughed over spilt wine. Now the slightest imperfection is a personal offense.”
Theo offered no reply.
What changed Loretta?
“And you?” Gregory asked, raising a brow. “How are you finding married life? Adjusting to sharing your sanctuary with a creature of beauty and fire?”
Theo let the corner of his mouth curve. “I am adjusting.”
“Shall we expect little feet pattering down the hallways of Stone Hall soon?”
Theo only shook his head, setting down his glass.
Does she even want children? The thought startled him with its clarity. Have I asked? Have I even considered what she truly desires?
He hovered over the board, momentarily adrift. Her image lingered in his mind, her dark lashes lowered as she played, her shoulders proud despite Loretta’s jabs.
You are losing this battle, Theo, and you are not prepared for where you might find yourself.