time and space, Cass could fall in love with him after Julian was gone. It was lovely to contemplate her cousin and her best friend together—but Lucy had to be truthful with Garrett; she always had been. She took a deep breath, willing away the unwanted thoughts of the duke behind her. “Garrett, I must tell you something.”
Garrett nodded, narrowing his eyes. “What is it?”
“I told Cass she must write to Julian and tell him the truth.”
Garrett turned his head slightly, eyeing her warily. “What do you mean?”
Lucy held out her hand in a supplicating gesture. “I mean she cannot just allow Julian to die without knowing how much she loves him.”
Garrett ran a hand over his face. “Are you jesting? What good could come of telling the man something like that on his deathbed?”
Lucy blinked at him. She lowered her voice to a hoarse whisper. “I cannot believe you’re saying this. Don’t you think he should know how she feels? And more important, don’t you think Cass shouldn’t have to live the rest of her life knowing she never told him?”
Garrett settled his hands on his hips. “Frankly, no, Lucy. I don’t think so. I think it’s a phenomenally bad idea actually.”
Lucy nearly growled in frustration. How could Garrett think that way? She wasn’t particularly known for her romantic notions, but even she could tell that if you loved someone as desperately as Cass loved Julian, you should never allow him to go to his grave without telling him. “You can never go wrong if you’re honest and follow your heart,” she murmured.
“And that’s supposed to fix everything?” Garrett replied, a muscle ticking in his jaw.
“If you were about to die, wouldn’t you want to know that someone loves you?” Lucy immediately clapped her hand over her mouth. They both knew that Garrett had been about to die once. In a desert in Spain. He’d been shot in the chest. Nearly bled to death. But she and her fun-loving cousin rarely spoke of such a time. And certainly they never spoke of how he lived with the guilt that he should have been the one who died just as she lived with that same guilt. But for an entirely different reason. No. That would have been a subject they would never broach. But it was never far from their minds and they both knew it.
Garrett cleared his throat. His voice was solemn. “I can say with all honesty that if I could do nothing about it, I wouldn’t want to know.”
Lucy searched his face. “You cannot mean that—”
“Lady Lucy, come and make a fourth for our hand,” Lady Crandall called, gesturing her over toward their card table. Now that the men had sufficiently settled into the room, the ladies were back at their intention for another round of cards. And Lucy’s popularity had somehow increased exponentially ever since her challenge with the duke. The ton was so odd.
Lucy fought her wince. She didn’t know if she could take another round of Lady Crandall’s loose fingers.
“Go ahead,” Garrett said, nodding toward Lady Crandall. “I’m going in search of Lord Mountebank’s study and a glass of brandy if I can find one.”
Lucy sighed. “You’re abandoning me? Very well then. Cards it is.” She lifted her skirts and made a move to proceed to Lady Crandall’s table when the Duke of Claringdon stepped in her path.
“Lady Lucy,” he said. “May I have a word?”
Lucy instinctively took a step back. Somehow being that close to him made her feel a bit off-balance. Even after having spent time in his immediate company the last couple of days, she was still struck by his stunning good looks and the maddeningly intoxicating scent of him, like spice and soap.
“Just a word, Your Grace. I’m wanted as a fourth.” She nodded toward the card table.
The duke glanced over his shoulder to acknowledge Lady Crandall. That lady gave him a positively leering stare. He turned back to face Lucy, his eyebrow arched in a skeptical semblance as if to say, Yes, I’m
Garrett nodded, narrowing his eyes. “What is it?”
“I told Cass she must write to Julian and tell him the truth.”
Garrett turned his head slightly, eyeing her warily. “What do you mean?”
Lucy held out her hand in a supplicating gesture. “I mean she cannot just allow Julian to die without knowing how much she loves him.”
Garrett ran a hand over his face. “Are you jesting? What good could come of telling the man something like that on his deathbed?”
Lucy blinked at him. She lowered her voice to a hoarse whisper. “I cannot believe you’re saying this. Don’t you think he should know how she feels? And more important, don’t you think Cass shouldn’t have to live the rest of her life knowing she never told him?”
Garrett settled his hands on his hips. “Frankly, no, Lucy. I don’t think so. I think it’s a phenomenally bad idea actually.”
Lucy nearly growled in frustration. How could Garrett think that way? She wasn’t particularly known for her romantic notions, but even she could tell that if you loved someone as desperately as Cass loved Julian, you should never allow him to go to his grave without telling him. “You can never go wrong if you’re honest and follow your heart,” she murmured.
“And that’s supposed to fix everything?” Garrett replied, a muscle ticking in his jaw.
“If you were about to die, wouldn’t you want to know that someone loves you?” Lucy immediately clapped her hand over her mouth. They both knew that Garrett had been about to die once. In a desert in Spain. He’d been shot in the chest. Nearly bled to death. But she and her fun-loving cousin rarely spoke of such a time. And certainly they never spoke of how he lived with the guilt that he should have been the one who died just as she lived with that same guilt. But for an entirely different reason. No. That would have been a subject they would never broach. But it was never far from their minds and they both knew it.
Garrett cleared his throat. His voice was solemn. “I can say with all honesty that if I could do nothing about it, I wouldn’t want to know.”
Lucy searched his face. “You cannot mean that—”
“Lady Lucy, come and make a fourth for our hand,” Lady Crandall called, gesturing her over toward their card table. Now that the men had sufficiently settled into the room, the ladies were back at their intention for another round of cards. And Lucy’s popularity had somehow increased exponentially ever since her challenge with the duke. The ton was so odd.
Lucy fought her wince. She didn’t know if she could take another round of Lady Crandall’s loose fingers.
“Go ahead,” Garrett said, nodding toward Lady Crandall. “I’m going in search of Lord Mountebank’s study and a glass of brandy if I can find one.”
Lucy sighed. “You’re abandoning me? Very well then. Cards it is.” She lifted her skirts and made a move to proceed to Lady Crandall’s table when the Duke of Claringdon stepped in her path.
“Lady Lucy,” he said. “May I have a word?”
Lucy instinctively took a step back. Somehow being that close to him made her feel a bit off-balance. Even after having spent time in his immediate company the last couple of days, she was still struck by his stunning good looks and the maddeningly intoxicating scent of him, like spice and soap.
“Just a word, Your Grace. I’m wanted as a fourth.” She nodded toward the card table.
The duke glanced over his shoulder to acknowledge Lady Crandall. That lady gave him a positively leering stare. He turned back to face Lucy, his eyebrow arched in a skeptical semblance as if to say, Yes, I’m
Similar Books
