Chapter 12
Twelve
“Mama’s gonna love him! She likes birds!”
Austin glanced sideways at Deena. She was walking close enough that her shoulder brushed his arm every few steps, and he could smell the faint rosewater clinging to her hair.
The memory of their kiss flared back to life without warning, but he had promised her that they would never bring it up again.
He swallowed, forcing his attention back to the path.
Deena made a fine point before Percy pleasantly surprised them.
It would be useless if they went ahead with their deal without either of them having a clue about each other’s consequences, but as he watched her, laughing and struggling to walk up the hill with her nephew beside her, his mind wrestled against his rejection.
“You’re very quiet,” Deena said, voice low so Percy wouldn’t overhear. “Still brooding over our little disagreement?”
Austin’s jaw tightened. “I am not brooding. I’m thinking.”
“About whether you can trust me?” she asked, too perceptive for comfort.
He didn’t answer right away. He’d meant every word: if it came down to her friend’s safety or his secret, she would sacrifice him. He was certain of it.
“I just believe that we are good people, Deena. And neither of us planned to harm anyone, but somehow, we still managed to get embroiled in scandals.”
She looked away, towards the house rising ahead of them. “You don’t know what I’d do.”
“I know what I’d do,” he said. “And I know you’re more like me than you want to admit.”
The silence between them thickened with everything they were not saying.
Austin was beginning to understand Deena’s loyalty to her friend; he felt the same towards Dominic, who was like a brother to him.
He took a moment to admire Deena’s strength, stubbornness, and her ability to put others first. If the tables were turned, Austin would have betrayed anyone just to protect his family.
Percy, innocently oblivious, ran ahead. “Faster, Uncle Austin and Aunt Dee! Sir Quackers wants to meet Mama!”
Austin obliged, lengthening his stride. “Hold on, little man. We’re not as fast as you.”
Deena tried to keep pace. “Selina is going to kill us.”
“I’ll leave her to you. That woman will skin me alive,” Austin muttered.
She huffed a small laugh, and the sound went straight through him. He wanted to hear it again. He wanted to be the reason for it. Wanted to pull her behind the nearest hedge, press her against the ivy, and kiss her again until that laugh turned into something breathier, needier—
He cut the thought off sharply.
“Mama! Look!” Percy shouted as they entered the warm, lamplit hall. “We caught a duck! His name is Sir Quackers!”
Selina appeared from the morning room. Her gaze went first to her son, then to the furious mallard, and slowly, appraisingly, to the two adults flanking him.
“A duck,” she repeated, her voice carefully neutral.
“Oh no, we’re in trouble.” Austin whistled.
“You’re in trouble. Percy was under your care, remember?” Deena shot back, and Austin chuckled under his breath.
“I’m a dead man,” he said humorously.
“He’s my friend!” Percy declared, holding the bird out towards Selina like evidence. “Can we keep him? Please, Mama?”
Selina’s brows lifted. She looked at Deena, then at Austin, who suddenly found the pattern on the wallpaper fascinating.
“My son is holding a duck,” she said again. “In the dowager’s house.”
Not even the blackmailer struck fear in Austin as much as Selina did. Now he understood why Dominic was so engrossed with her. It wasn’t fondness…it was fear.
“He likes me!” Percy insisted. “He only tried to bite me twice!”
Deena stepped forward, trying to sound helpful. “Perhaps… we could find someone who knows how to care for ducks? A farmer, or—”
“You can’t trust just anyone with a duck, Deena. People make promises they don’t keep. They say they’ll look after something, then abandon it the moment it’s inconvenient.” Austin cut her off smoothly.
Deena’s gaze snapped to his. Austin wasn’t just speaking about the duckling. “Sometimes trusting the wrong person is worse than letting something go entirely,” she argued, and Austin tried not to smile.
Although he enjoyed their banter quite a lot, he needed her to know that this time he was serious.
“Trusting no one is the only safe choice,” he countered.
“Are we still talking about the duck?” Selina butted in. Her eyes narrowed at them.
Percy looked between them, confused again but still grinning with his prized bird in hand. “I really, really like Sir Quackers. He’s my best duck ever.”
Austin crouched to Percy’s level, softening his tone. “He’s a fine duck, little man. But ducks belong in ponds and rivers, not drawing rooms.”
Percy’s lip wobbled. “But I want him to stay.”
Deena moved behind Austin; he felt the heat of her body near him, and he shut his eyes, trying and failing to concentrate as she spoke to her nephew softly. “Maybe he’ll come back and visit. Ducks always remember their kindest friends.”
Percy sniffed. “Do they?”
“They do,” Austin added, surprising himself with the certainty. “The good ones always come back.”
Selina sighed, long and theatrical. “Even if we like something very much,” she said, addressing all three of them, “the solution is not to enclose it in a cage, or to trust it to someone else who might not understand it, or to make any other strange deal to keep it close.”
She looked pointedly at Deena, then at Austin, who stood up slowly.
“We should let it decide whether it wants to stay or not, without pressure. And we should trust that even if it has gone for a while, he will return to us when the time is right.” Selina nodded thoughtfully while addressing her son.
The silence that followed felt louder than any argument.
Percy looked at the duck, then at his mother. “So… we let him go?”
Selina nodded. “We let him go. And if he wants to be your friend, he’ll find his way back to you.”
Austin met Deena’s green eyes. The look they exchanged held everything they had not said by the pond: their deep distrust for each other and their deeper desire.
Austin feared that she would betray him, and he was sure that she felt the same.
But when it came down to it, he hesitated.
All he could do was hope that he could trust her without knowing all her story, and vice versa.
But can we trust each other?
It was a silent question that neither could yet answer.
Selina straightened. “Austin, be a dear and help Percy release Sir Quackers back to the pond. Properly this time, and please make certain that my son does not return with more wildlife.”
Austin inclined his head. “As you wish, Your Grace.”
“And Deena,” Selina continued, “come with me. We’ll prepare you for the afternoon activities. The dowager already announced the next game. Dominic and I got you a gown to change into, as a welcome home gift, and I suspect you’ll need a moment to… collect yourself.”
Deena’s cheeks were reddened from the walk, and her hair was disheveled by the wind, but even then, she looked mesmerizing. Austin couldn’t imagine how a new frock would improve her.
“I’m perfectly collected.” Deena’s nose twitched slightly. It was a little habit Austin noticed she did whenever she lied.
Selina’s smile was knowing. “Of course you are.” She linked her arm through Deena’s.
“Ladies, the little gentleman, and I will see you all this afternoon. I heard there’s an extremely exciting game planned for us today. If you do not require any more of my services, we’ll take our leave.” Austin asked humbly, and Selina shook her head.
“Thank you, Your Grace, but you have done more than enough,” she said too sweetly. Selina raised her brow at her son, who still pouted unhappily.
Austin grinned at Deena. “Lady Deena, I look forward to seeing you later. And a word of advice?”
“Go on?” she urged drily.
“I do believe that you should never stop writing your…poetry.” Austin hoped that she understood what he meant.
Selina glanced between the two of them but did not ask any questions.
Finally, Deena nodded knowingly. “I will keep writing. Thank you, Your Grace.”
“You’re most welcome.”
The letters began to feel heavy in his pocket; he would have to find the right time to speak to her about them. But he had a duck to save and a little boy’s heart to break.
As the two women disappeared down the corridor. Austin felt the absence of Deena’s presence like a sudden drop in temperature. He did not understand why, and he did not care to delve any deeper into it.
Percy tugged at his sleeve. “Uncle Austin? Are you and Aunt Dee fighting?”
Austin crouched again, meeting the boy’s serious eyes. “Not fighting. Just… figuring things out.”
Percy nodded sagely. “Mama says grown-ups take forever to figure things out.”
“Your mama is very wise.”
They walked back to the pond together, Percy chattering about how Sir Quackers would tell all the other ducks about his grand adventure in a house with carpets and chandeliers.
Austin listened, but his mind was elsewhere.
He kept replaying their argument. The way Deena’s chin had lifted when he accused her of being willing to sacrifice him. The pain in her eyes when he’d said he wasn’t sure he trusted her.
But I am not sure.
And that uncertainty terrified him more than any rumor of illegitimacy.
Because if it came down to it, he was convinced she wouldn’t choose him. And the worst part was that he wasn’t convinced he would choose her, either. Not if the dukedom hung in the balance.
They reached the pond’s edge. Percy knelt, holding Sir Quackers out towards the water.
“Go on, Sir Quackers,” he whispered. “You can visit anytime.”
The duckling gave one last indignant quack, shook its feathers, and waddled into the reeds without a backward glance.
Percy watched it go, lower lip trembling.
Austin rested his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “He’ll be back.”
Percy looked up, hopeful. “How do you know?”