Redemption of the Duke Read Online Free Page B

of his childhood, but his aunt had been the one to see to his education, to scold
     his mistakes, to laugh at his foolishness, to be wounded by his thoughtlessness as
     a young man. And if she knew what his mistakes had cost in India, he might never receive
     her good humor again.
    “Aunt Theodosia,” he said, “you know my female admirers do themselves no favors by
     pretending to call upon my sister and mother only.”
    “Some girls are foolish in their youth,” she insisted, her turban a crown upon her
     head, her necklaces stacked upon each other so much that only perfect posture could
     keep her from slumping forward. “You cannot hold that against them.”
    “And some men are foolish as well.”
    That subtly bitter voice could only be his sister-in-law, Marian, Marchioness of Tunbridge,
     his eldest brother’s widow, who’d been betrothed to the heir in childhood, and had
     reigned in her mind as a future duchess. But his brother Cecil had died an hour before
     their father, never having inherited the title. Adam would pity her crushing disappointment
     if she weren’t so effortlessly disagreeable. Marian was too thin, as if she starved
     her life away for an enviable waist. Her dark hairstyles, elaborate as cake decorations,
     sometimes left the maids in tears. But Marian did her best to seem regal and stoic,
     the tragic heroine of a novel.
    He glanced at her, his mouth curved with amusement. “Do not paint all men with the
     same brush, dear sister. And I will do the same for your fair sex.”
    “Oh, I do agree that there are foolish women, Adam. Look how many pretend to call
     upon you?” she said in an overly sweet tone.
    She’d never once called him by his title, and he knew it was deliberate. It didn’t
     bother him, which secretly bothered her.
    And suddenly it seemed very petty and pointless, especially when he thought about
     Miss Cooper, who worked to earn her keep. But not much longer, if he could help it.
    Sophia approached him, took his arm, and led him toward the window. “You’re frowning,
     Adam. What’s wrong? I don’t think I ever saw you frown when you were younger.”
    He patted her hand on his arm. “A title and its responsibilities will do that to a
     man.”
    “War will, too,” she said softly, studying him with true concern. “You don’t talk
     about it much. Nor did you write about it. From your letters, I would have thought
     you were marching through jungles to sketch the scenery.”
    He smiled. “It is in my past, not something I want to dwell on. And I certainly don’t
     want my lovely sister knowing of the dark side of life.”
    “I’m not that sheltered,” she insisted. “Aunt Theodosia takes me with her to her charities, and
     it’s not all about sipping tea and discussing what balls to host. I’ve been to the
     East End. I’ve held babies as their mothers died. I’ve—”
    He frowned down at her. “Where have you been, Sophia? If Aunt Theodosia thinks this
     is proper for a young lady—”
    “Adam, helping people is important to me. Having the funds to do so only makes it
     imperative. I just want you to understand that you cannot always protect me, just
     as I can’t always protect you. Although I wish I could have . . .” She trailed off,
     still gazing at him as if she could read into his soul.
    He briefly glanced out the window at the carriages passing by. His little sister wanted
     to protect him. The sweetness of it tightened his gut. He remembered being twenty
     to her ten years, and leaving the room instead of punching his elder brother, only
     to find out later she’d been eavesdropping and rushed in to kick Cecil hard in the
     shin. Cecil turned her over his knee for that, and she hadn’t made a sound—or so his
     other brother Godfrey had told him, enjoying Adam’s fury that their little sister
     had been the subject of their punishment of him.
    “We want to protect the world, Sophia,” he said quietly. “Sometimes all we can