He let out a rumbling sound that must have vibrated through her hand because she snatched it away. “You don’t know what you ask.”
“I didn’t ask anything.” Then she shook her head. “Never mind. I can assure you, Your Grace, that I will never seek you out for another kiss. I came up here to ask you to be quieter and now I will say my farewell to you in hopes that it is forever.”
Then she turned and started down the hall. He hated watching her walk away. It bothered him far more than he cared to admit. But she was right. It was likely best they sever their relationship now. Still, the pit of his stomach grew heavy with regret. “I’d prefer we leave each other on better terms.”
She spun back around to him, her hands clenched in fists at her sides. “I won’t tell my father about our kiss, but I expect you to continue on your way first thing tomorrow morning.”
He grimaced, turning toward his room. He should have just kissed her. Or never kissed her. Chase couldn’t be certain but he stopped at the threshold. “Ophelia,” he called and she paused, looking back over her shoulder. “My given name is Chase. When you think of me, I’d like you to know my name. The name my parents used for me.”
The sadness in his voice and in the words nearly knocked her breath from her lungs. She noted the past tense of his statement first. His parents no longer used that name or his parents were gone? “Used?” she whispered, her feet pivoting back around. “What do they use now?”
She watched as his brows drew together, his face tightening in pain, his mouth pinching. “They died a long time ago. I’ve been the duke since I was sixteen.”
She gasped, then covered her mouth with her hands to hide her reaction. She remembered the pain of losing her mother. But she’d had her father and all her sisters from which to draw comfort. He’d told her he only had a single cousin. Who had helped him through the grief? She took two steps toward him, holding out her hand. Belatedly she realized her fingers trembled a bit. “What that must have been like for you. I can’t imagine. You poor—”
“Ophelia,” he said, his voice holding a note of desperation. “Don’t paint me to be the victim here in need of saving.”
She snapped her mouth shut. How had he figured her out so quickly? “I lost my mother. I know how it hurts.”
He drew in a long breath. “I didn’t tell you about my parents so that you would come back in my arms and kiss me out of sympathy. If you do kiss me again, it will be for lust.”
Those words made her stop. Clearly, she’d allowed her romantic musings to carry her away once again. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Then, before anything else could be said, she fled, her feet flying across the thick carpet all the way to the stairs and then down them to her room. But after she’d returned to the safety of her bed chamber, she could still hear him above her. First walking and then tossing and turning in his bed.
And worse still, his words echoed in her thoughts. He’d lost his parents, suffered alone, well that thought was hers. But still, she could hear the sadness beneath his words. And somehow, despite being extremely handsome and a duke, no less, he didn’t really value himself. She rolled over in bed, wondering if there was something she could do.
Finally, after what felt like hours, Ophelia decided that she needed to talk with him again. If she could control her attraction to him long enough to really listen, perhaps she could help him overcome his past and see his own value. He might not be the most moral man she’d ever met but he was redeemable. She could see real good in him. Finally deciding on a course of action, she fell asleep, just as the sky began to lighten.
She woke a few hours later to full sun pouring into her windows. What time was it? Hurrying out of bed, she fumbled about her room, attempting to wash her face and tame her hair. Sleep still weighed heavily on her mind but her maid was able to help her get ready and down to the breakfast room.
Just outside the door, she noted the sounds of her family talking, a good sign she wasn’t too late. But the moment she walked through the doorway, silence fell and every eye turned to her. She noted that while all her sisters were there, her father wasn’t present.
Sharp dread tightened her chest as they stared at her. She stopped, looking at several of them before she finally relaxed enough to ask. “What’s wrong?”
Cordelia cleared her throat. “He left.”
“Papa?” she asked, sliding into her seat near the head of the table. “He often starts work early in order to have the evenings with us.”
“We’re aware of our own father’s schedule,” Juliet huffed. “The subject we are less educated on is what happened between you and the duke that he left before seven this morning.”
Ophelia nibbled her lip, trying to decide what she shared and didn’t with her sisters. She loved her family dearly but there were very few secrets in this house. “Nothing happened. I—”
“Liar,” Adrianna pointed across the table. “You kissed him last night. I know you did.”
Heat infused her cheeks. “Adrianna, that’s absurd. I—”
She turned her finger up and wagged it. “Don’t deny it. It was completely obvious.”
Her other sisters fell silent as they stared at her. Not knowing what to say, she gazed down at her hands currently twisting in her lap.
“Are you going to marry him?” Bianca finally asked.
Her head snapped up as she started in surprise. “He’s gone. How could I marry him?”
“But…” This from Cordelia again. “He’s coming back.” She reached for one of her dark larks of hair and twisted it around her finger. “I thought perhaps he’d gone to get a marriage license.”
“Coming back,” she repeated, more to herself as she slumped down into her chair. Why would he be coming back? “He won’t be bringing a marriage license. He made it clear he didn’t want to marry. I’ve no idea why he would return.”
“But that makes no sense,” Bianca pinched her chin. “Father looked so happy the duke would be returning. One of you must be mistaken.”
Ophelia’s shoulders hunched. “It’s Papa. But still, I’m glad he’ll return. Even if he doesn’t want to marry me, he did divulge some of his past and the man needs help.”
Juliet groaned, loudly, drowning out any other noise in the room. “For heaven’s sake, Ophelia. Please tell me you’re not going to try and rescue a man who has made it clear he doesn’t want you.”
Ophelia straightened, bristling. “What does him wanting me have to do with helping him? We don’t help people to get something out of it. We do it out of the kindness of our hearts.”
Cordelia reached for her sister’s hand. “Agreed.” Then she glared at Juliet. “We should be thankful Ophelia gives with so little regard for herself. We all benefit from compassion.” Then she swept her around the table. “But as it stands, being kind to a duke could have great benefit to Ophelia. Even if he doesn’t marry her himself, he could help her to make a strong match. Which is why…” Now she glared at Adrianna. “We’re not going to tell Papa about the kiss.”