She nodded, not bothering to conceal the truth, not even caring that Harper sat with them and was listening—and probably judging her. “Yes. Yes, I am.”
The marquess grinned at her.
Harper’s spoon paused for the briefest of moments.
“Harper tells me that jealousy involves the heart.”
Harper continued to eat and didn’t lift her gaze to the marquess when he spoke.
Aria knew she was listening. She turned her attention to the pretty older woman. “Were you speaking of the marquess’ heart?”
The marquess gave out a short burst of mocking laughter, and then without a word in his defense, grew sober.
Aria smiled inwardly. In fact, like some high schooler, her heart fluttered and flipped at the thought of him being jealous.
“Harper,” the marquess said, “you heard Miss Darling’s key is lost. Please use everything at your disposal to find it.”
Harper asked a few questions, like when Aria saw it last and agreed to have the sitting room searched from top to bottom.
“There you are!” They turned to the entryway to see Eloise Barrington gliding toward them, chin up, hands held aloft as if she might get contaminated if anything nearby touched her. “Grayson, your father has insisted on a marriage ball to find you a wife. I did my best to postpone it, but he wants to secure an heir through you.”
“I’m sure you fought him tooth and nail.”
“Of course, I fought him,” she answered him candidly. “An heir makes my Timothy one step further away from the duke.”
Aria opened her mouth to tell this horrible woman that she wouldn’t stand for any threats against the marquess or his future children. From the corner of her eye, she spotted Gray watching her with quiet fascination lighting his turquoise eyes. Whatever she wanted to say to his stepmother faded like dark smoke on a cloudless, breezy day. She was going to miss the way he unabashedly stared at her.
“Hmm,” his stepmother followed his gaze. “Perhaps there is no need for a ball now that Miss Darling from York has graced our home.”
“What makes you say that?” Gray asked her in a tone like cool steel. He turned his steady gaze on the older woman and waited while she sputtered a bit—much like her son.
“The way you were looking at her…”
He lifted his brows, urging her to continue.
“…it just seemed as if you…had an…interest in her direction.” At her last words, her temper flared, and she spoke with a bit tauter boldness. She produced a handheld fan from somewhere on herself, snapped it open, and waved it in front of her face.
“You can tell my father that the only thing I’ll be doing at his marriage ball is mocking him for being such a poor example of a husband.”
The duke’s wife expelled a short laugh. “What are you talking about? Your father is fine—”
“I’m not talking about you, Eloise.” It wasn’t just his words that sounded like acid spilling merrily from his lips, but the snarl he aimed at her revealed that he was almost at the end of his patience. “He made his first wife hate being a wife and mother and drove her away. But I’ll tell everyone all about it at the ball. I’m sure they would all like to know how the duke used to berate his wife and then go sneak off to you. I wonder what the king will think about adultery and your marriage. He will likely have it annulled. If that happens, the only thingyour Timothywill inherit will be a tin can to collect the coins for which he begs.”
“Grayson!” she gasped as if he’d kicked her in the guts.
Aria quickly realized that there were those for whom Gray had no mercy. His father’s wife was one of them.
He chuckled softly at her shock and dismay and then turned away from her as she hurried off. Aria thought she saw a trace of regret flash across his eyes. But then it was gone again. She glanced at Harper, whose empathetic gaze was fastened on Gray. The woman who raised him knew him best. She knew the aloof “madman” was really just a wounded little boy who’d lost everyone he loved, including his furry friends. Wasn’t it cruel of her to pursue any kind of relationship with him and then leave him the same way the others had? Another thought sounded out like an alarm. It was a thought that plagued and haunted her almost every waking moment. What if she could never leave? Now that her key was gone, never seeing home again was even more of a possibility. No key. No door.
“What is it?” the marquess’ soft, low voice resonated through her blood. “Are you thinking of your home?”
She nodded. “How did you know?”
“You suddenly look very melancholy.”
What other man would bother to notice a shift in her mood? Why did her heart have to be imprisoned by responsibility? If he wanted her to, she’d stay with him if her family didn’t need her. But they did.
“We’ll find the key, Aria,” he promised softly, watching a tear escape her eye and slip down her cheek.