“Yes. Tomorrow afternoon, I think. I will have to tell her when I see her.”
Hero inhaled, closing her eyes. “Then you’ve come to a decision.”
“I have. She cannot have a season.”
“She’s been dreaming of one—you know that.” Her heart was aching.
“Would you have her make a fall at a dance?” he asked gently. “Can you imagine her humiliation? I will not let her endanger either her pride or her person. We’ll keep her safe with us, with her family.”
“How will she make a match?” Hero bit her lip. “Surely you don’t mean for her to remain a spinster all her life?”
Maximus shrugged one shoulder impatiently. “She is only seventeen. When the time is right, I can introduce a select number of gentlemen to her. Never fear. I will take care of her.”
Hero nodded. Of course he would. Maximus always took care of those around him. And perhaps he was right—a season might prove too stressful for Phoebe with her failing eyesight.
Still, it would be a terrible blow to Phoebe. She had been so excited at the prospect of her season.
“You’ve made the correct decision,” Hero murmured, glancing down at her hands.
Maximus brought his eagle-eyed gaze back to her. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Naturally.” She smiled at him rather wistfully.
It would be so nice if she could talk to him about her troubles. About Griffin and the strange, tangled relationship they had, her doubts about the coming marriage to Mandeville, and whether it would even take place. There was so much she’d like to share with him, her elder brother. She’d lost Papa and Mama too young to really miss them overmuch, but at times like these, she longed for them. To have someone who truly cared about her.
But she’d never had that kind of rapport with Maximus. Perhaps it was because of her own reserved personality or because he was so much older than she and shouldered so many duties as the Duke of Wakefield. Or maybe it was simply never meant to be. Whatever the case, she realized now that she didn’t really know her brother. Not, at least, in the deeper sense. She didn’t know what he feared—if indeed he feared anything. If he’d ever loved or ever cried or if, late at night, he ever suffered any self-doubt.
Of course, he didn’t really know her either, did he?
Maximus surprised her by taking her hand. “I care for you and your welfare—you know that, don’t you?”
She nodded silently, feeling guilt mixed with pain at his words.
“If you ever need me, Hero, you have merely to ask,” he said.
He squeezed her fingers and then tucked them into the crook of his elbow. “Come. I see Mandeville in the far corner. I’m sure he’d be much pleased to see his fiancée.”
She agreed because she could hardly do otherwise, but she searched the ballroom as they crossed to Mandeville. She couldn’t see Griffin. Perhaps he’d already gone in to dinner.
“What is the urgent matter you wish to discuss with Mandeville?” she asked idly.
“It’s his brother.”
Hero stopped, causing Maximus to halt as well. “What about Reading?”
Maximus frowned down at her. “He’s distilling gin in St. Giles. I will have to arrest him.”
The blow was so sudden, so sharp, that for a moment she didn’t feel the pain. “No!”
“I’m sorry, my dear,” Maximus began. “I know he’s Mandeville’s brother—”
She clutched his arm with shaking fingers. “You cannot arrest Griffin. You simply cannot.”
Maximus’s eyes narrowed sharply. “Griffin?”
This was it. She’d betrayed herself. She was going to lose Maximus, lose her family and friends.
Carefully, Hero took her hands from her brother’s sleeve and clasped them primly in front of herself. She must remember that they stood in a crowded ballroom.
“For me, Maximus,” she whispered, her lips barely moving. “Promise me you won’t touch him.”
Around them the crowd talked and laughed and even shouted, but Maximus was as still as a graven image and just as silent.
Hero closed her eyes and prayed.
Finally he spoke. “Whatever Reading is to you, it must stop immediately.”
Her eyes flew open. His face was pale and set, his lips bloodless. She opened her mouth to speak.
His hand rose, sharp and commanding, between them. “Wait. I will not move against him for your sake, but in return you will promise me that you will quit him. Hero, he distills gin.” The word was spat from his lips.
She bowed her head, her heart beating fast in relief.
“Your word, sister.”
She nodded mutely.