He was still for only a moment, and she thought that he would push her away and blurt the truth. Instead, he reached up and took her gloved hand in his, holding it to his lips, and kissing it with such fervour that she could feel the strength of his emotions through the leather, and through her other clothing as well. She could imagine his lips pressing against her bare skin, and her body tingled with answering desire. And she knew, no matter what he might think she deserved, that she deserved this. To have a man, who she loved and respected, who loved her with such passion in return.
She thought of her own secret. Would she be able to tell the man who loved her about the bet her father had made? She had thought it no business of another, and intended to keep the secret to her grave. Though she'd told herself that it was no fault of hers, she felt stained by it. It was as though she had been married against her will. Whether she liked it or not, a bond existed, and she was not free to give herself elsewhere. Deep down, she still worried that someday Nathan Wardale would appear on her doorstep and demand a reckoning. But Nell had said he could well be dead. She need have nothing to fear.
'I have a secret as well,' she finally admitted. 'One that I do not wish anyone to know. Not even you. At one time, I walked away from my past as surely as you wish to turn from yours. And if each party wishes to keep a secret from the other, and knows that there is ground that they must not tread, for fear that it would break the heart of the other? But that we swear to each other, with our whole hearts, that what is behind us does not matter? Then perhaps it is almost the same as telling the whole truth when we do not speak of it.'
His eyes were still averted as he clutched her hand tightly in his. 'It would not matter? It would be as though you were promising yourself to half a man.'
She smiled. 'If it is to be the good half of you? Then yes, I would be more than willing.'
He looked at her, then. And she could see the emotion in the green depths of his eyes, like a storm at sea. 'My darling, Diana, I want to believe you. If we were the last two people in the world...or if I could take you far away, so that we might never see another soul that knew us. But it is not as easy as that. There is someone who wishes to expose me for what I am. I swear I have done him no harm. But he thinks that I deserve punishment for a matter that did not involve me. I fear he will try to discredit me with you. I am trying to find a way to prevent it,' he said hurriedly. 'But if you do not wish to hear the truth from another, then there is something I must do, soon, that will keep you safe from this man. You may think my actions now are just as distasteful as my past. But I swear to you, what I will do may seem terrible, but I am convinced it is just.'
'If there is anything you need, I will help you.'
He smiled so very softly then, and shook his head. 'You do not know what you are saying.'
'That is for me to decide.' She wanted to be a part of his life, in any way that she could. 'How can I help you?'
He looked at her, speculatively. 'It will concern the Earl of Narborough.'
'And what does that have to do with you or me?'
'He is your employer,' he said. 'And you count the girls as friends, do you not?'
'Of course.'
'Suppose it were possible for me to bury my past, but it resulted in the downfall of the Carlows. What might you say then?'
This did not sound at all like the actions of a man she could love. 'You would ruin the family for your own gain?'
He shook his head. 'If what I suspect is true, Narborough dishonoured himself years ago. I would only be uncovering his secret to keep my own secrets safe.'
'After all that we have agreed about not looking back for unpleasantness, you would do to another, what you do not wish for yourself?' It was both mysterious and disappointing.
'This is quite different, I assure you. While I will admit that my past is shameful, I have not caused the death of any person, directly or indirectly, as a result of my actions. But George Carlow is responsible for at least two deaths, one by his own hand and one through the betrayal of a friendship.'
'Lord Narborough?' She almost laughed. 'He is a feeble old man.'
'And likely to go to his grave with the truth, if I do not act soon.'
She shook her head. 'He has never been anything but kind to me, nor have I seen him mistreat another.'
'Not recently, perhaps. But people can change for the better, with time. Twenty years ago, he might have been quite different, and you would not have known.'
'Twenty years is a long time,' she agreed. 'But surely, something so long ago could have no importance.'
'For some, it is as fresh as the day it happened,' he said. 'You would do well not to belittle another's pain.'
She gasped, surprised by the vehemence of his reaction. 'Perhaps it would help me to know just what it is that you are talking about.'
'The murder of Christopher Hebden, Lord Framlingham, and the hanging of William Wardale, Earl of Leybourne.'
'You think that Lord Narborough was in some way involved?'
'I am sure of it. Hebden died at his house. And it was he who made the accusation against Leybourne.'
'But the earl was guilty.'
'How can you be sure?'