They were at the far end, in close embrace. They had not heard him come in. And he had to make the instant decision of whether to leave as quietly as he had come or make his presence known. She was not struggling. Perhaps she would resent his intrusion on a romantic moment. Or perhaps she needed him.
He walked slowly along the gallery, making no attempt to hide in the shadows or dull the sound of his footsteps. And when he was a little more than halfway along, they broke apart and turned to look at him.
Sybil and Thomas.
The duchess turned sharply away to stare out of a window into darkness. Lord Thomas met his brother’s eyes in the near-darkness and smiled.
“I was seized with the urge to renew my acquaintance with our ancestors,” he said. “But alas, this is not quite the time of day to come picture-gazing. I shall have to do it again in the daylight.”
“Yes,” the duke said. “I will be wanting a word with you in the morning, too, Thomas. But not now. Now there are ladies in the drawing room who would appreciate your offer to partner them in a dance. Sybil and I will see you there shortly.”
Lord Thomas turned to look at the back of the duchess’s head. “Do you wish to return with me, Sybil?” he asked. “Or with Adam?”
“She will return with me,” his grace said quietly.
The duchess said nothing.
Lord Thomas shrugged. “Oh, well,” he said, “I know that when you drop your voice that low, Adam, fisticuffs are not far in the future if I argue. And we must not present bloody noses to your guests, must we?” He touched the duchess on one shoulder. “You will be all right, Sybil?”
Again she said nothing. He shrugged once more and made his way alone along the gallery.
The duke waited a long time, until he heard the door close finally as his brother left.
“Well, Sybil,” he said quietly.
She turned to him. The faint light from the candles was gleaming off her blond hair. Her face was shadowed. “Well, Adam,” she said, her sweet voice shaking a little. “What are you going to do about it?”
“What do you want me to do about it?” he asked. “How far has it gone? I suppose you love him again—but then, you never stopped, did you? Are you lovers?”
She laughed shortly. “Would you divorce me if I said yes?” she asked. “Would you, Adam? It would make a wonderful scandal, wouldn’t it?” Her voice was shaking almost out of control.
“No,” he said. “I would never divorce you, Sybil. I think you know that. But you made me certain promises when we married. You owe it to both of us and to Pamela and all those dependent on us to keep those promises, I believe. Thomas is irrevocably in your past. You made it irrevocable when you married me.”
“What choice did I have?” she cried passionately. “What choice did I have? I would have been ruined forever, and you had sent him away never to return. And you kept coming and urging me to accept your protection before Papa discovered the truth. I had no choice at all. You are an evil man, Adam.”
“Perhaps,” he said. “But you have not been exactly the ideal mate either, Sybil. We must just make the best of what we have done with our lives.”
“Do you blame me,” she said, looking at him with deep revulsion, “for not wanting you to touch me? They would have been kinder to you, those people, if they had left you to die. You are only half a man.”
“We had better return to our guests,” he said.
“And you talk about my keeping my promises,” she said, her voice petulant as it frequently was during their arguments. “Can you honestly tell me that you have kept yours, Adam? Can you tell me that you have never been unfaithful to me?”
He looked at her without answering.
“Do you think,” she said, “that I do not know the reason for your frequent journeys to London? Do you think I do not know why you suddenly decided this time that Pamela needed a governess? Don’t talk to me of marriage vows. If I have given in to my love for Thomas, it is because I have been driven to it by your debaucheries and your cruelty.” She felt about her for a handkerchief and finally took the one he held out to her.
“Now, that,” he said, “is a good deal of nonsense, as you are very well aware. Dry your eyes, Sybil, and blow your nose. We have been away from our guests for long enough.”
She turned in silence and began to walk along the gallery. When they reached the doors, he opened them, took the handkerchief from her hand, and drew her arm through his. Distasteful and hypocritical as it might seem, he thought, looking down at her beautiful face, the blue eyes lowered, and at her silver-blond hair, there were appearances to consider.