To Con a Gentleman (Dalton Family 1)

“Really?”

“Really.” Could she tell he was lying? His eyes shifted away despite his effort to keep them fixed on her.

Just behind Mary sat that blasted alcove with the little blue window seat where Claire had liked to come and read on rainy days when they could

n’t go for a ride. It was also where he had first confessed his love to her, fourteen and sixteen years old.

But he couldn’t tell Mary just how wrecked he really was. Or that his stomach tied in knots just looking at that alcove out of the corner of his eye. Or that picturing Claire’s sweet face shedding tears of joy while returning the sentiment made Carver’s knees buckle. They had only been children at the time, but as they aged, time proved that their love was every bit as real at fourteen as it would be at six years later when she died.

“You have finally let her go, then?”

No. Never.

“Yes.” He flashed her his most dashing ‘man of the world’ smile. “Would I be a happily engaged man if I hadn’t?”

Mary’s eyes narrowed. Apparently, she wasn’t quite convinced either. “Have you told Daphney about Claire?”

Carver knew his smile fell, but he simply couldn’t keep it up anymore. Hearing Claire’s name so many times in one conversation was beginning to wear on him. But he knew that he needed to get through it to fully convince Mary that he was indeed healed and over the love of his life, or else this conversation would undoubtedly keep happening. And he didn’t think he could stand that.

“I haven’t. Why should I bring up the past with my future?” He attempted a light tone but still the words felt too heavy.

Mary only seemed more concerned, but she didn’t say anything for a time. She picked back up his arm and they were walking again. “Robert was incredible during the whole thing you know?” He nearly sighed a breath of relief at the much needed change of topic. And that they could finally hurry past that alcove and he could forget about it.

Carver let go of her arm and put an arm around her shoulders instead. She was tall enough that the position wasn’t awkward. “That doesn’t surprise me in the least. The man is a deuced saint.”

Mary laughed and the sound did Carver’s heart good. “That he is. I was a wreck after everything happened. Still am in some ways. But he didn’t expect me to pull myself together right away,” she said. “He gave me the time and space I needed to hurt and grieve, all the while making sure I knew that he was nearby when I was ready to talk.”

He swallowed and felt his Adam’s apple strain against his cravat—which again, felt too tight. He wasn’t oblivious to what she was doing. But still, he wanted to know, “Did that help you?”

“More than I will ever be able to express.” She turned her face up to look at his as they came to a stop outside of her bedchamber, her grey eyes conveying the empathy he felt from her. “Tell Daphney. Give her the chance to help you heal, Carver. It’s okay to let someone else pull you to safety when you’re drowning.”

He loved his sister and respected her experience, but there was no way on God’s green earth he was going to tell Daphney about Claire. She was his hired fiancé. One did not tell an employee their greatest sorrows.

“I have healed, Mary.”

She smiled softly and patted his cheek the same way his mother often did. “Saying it doesn’t make it true, Carver.”

He felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was heavy and uncomfortable and it told him that she was right. They were all right. He hadn't healed yet. But they were also wrong about everything else. Talking about it didn’t make it any better. It had the exact opposite effect.

“May I see your little miss today?” Changing the subject was good.

“No, but you can tomorrow. Robert has taken her to visit with the neighbor’s other children this afternoon. I suspect she will be in desperate need of a nap when she returns.”

It was odd for Carver to think of Mary as a married woman and a mother. In his mind, they were both still children hiding in the trees to escape their awful governess. Part of him wished they were still children. If that were true, he would be able to look down through the limbs of the tree and find Claire, climbing up behind them, all too eager to jump head first into whatever scrape he and Mary were tangling themselves in.

But they weren’t children. And Claire was dead. That realization sank in more and more during his time at home. He rubbed the back of his neck as he walked back toward his room. This time, taking the long way around to avoid that deuced alcove.

He considered for a moment going to seek out Daphney. Was she feeling uncomfortable among his sisters? Finding her in the middle of the giggling ladies gathered in Elizabeth’s room had been unexpected, to say the least. He was even more taken aback to see her smiling in a way he hadn’t seen before, unguarded and joyful. Even more distressing was the fleeting feeling that seeing her there with his sisters and mother looked…right. She felt right to him.

He wanted to kick himself for being such a dunderhead. The woman was pretending to enjoy his family. That was what they had agreed on. Daphney had made it perfectly clear that she would not form any attachments to himself or his family during the visit and that if at any point it seemed like she had, he was to remind himself that she was acting. If that was true, the woman was a bloody good actress. And her fake smile was absolutely lovely.

Even if it was only for show, Carver found himself wishing he could see it again. He nearly went to find her, but in the end, his emotional fatigue won over and he decided to take a walk instead. What he really needed to do was to go to his bedchamber and sleep. Last night had not afforded him any rest, but he couldn’t go there. He couldn’t go anywhere. He left the house in hopes that he would leave the memories behind as well.

Chapter 18

Rose was not given further opportunity to see Carver again privately after spending the afternoon with his sisters. They had been at dinner together, but that was hardly the right place to update him on all of the facts of their relationship that bloomed in her conversations with Elizabeth and Kate. The girls were relentless in their questions, wanting to soak up every detail of Carver and Daphney’s love story. And Rose had given them more than one ridiculous tale to swoon over.

As if a lady really wished to sprain her ankle in the middle of Hyde Park, only to be rescued by a handsome gentleman, lifted onto his horse and escorted back to her home. It was completely ridiculous, but it was apparently the first moment Daphney had realized she loved Carver. Why that was the first thing she thought of when the ladies asked for the exact moment she knew she loved their brother, Rose would never know.