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Kira frowned. Why indeed? And if she accepted herself, her differences, why should
their opinions matter? She knew who she was. She knew her faults, her assets
,
and she had both, as everyone else did. Her mother had been from another country,
not another planet. And even if Mama had been from the
m
oon, Kira could not change that.

Resolved, she rose and dashed to the small secretary in her room to draft a long,
thankful reply to her mother.

The key to acceptance began within herself. And now she understood that. She refused
to allow Mrs. Baycliffe or the
Lady
Westlands or Litchfields of the world to disturb her peace. She was half
Persian. What of it?

* * * *

He loved Kira, God help him. Gavin could reach no other conclusion. He thought of
her at least ten times a minute, missed her as if he’d lose his mind without her—found
himself willing to defy society and everything he’d ever held dear just to call her
his.

And she would not speak to him.

Gavin paced the length of his study, pausing to retrieve a sip of brandy. Who cared
that the time was barely two in the afternoon? It felt like half past hell to him.

He could no longer evade the truth
. H
e had been stubborn and considered all the negative consequences to wedding Kira before
weighing any of the good. And yes, he had been far too proud, assuming a half-Persian
miss had no business with a duke of pure English blood. How stupid it sounded now.
Kira was still half
English. Why hadn’t he considered that sooner? She would make a fine duchess—certainly
the most interesting. Hell, she could be half
Zulu and he would not care. She was Kira
. H
e loved her.

And why had he ever imagined he could seduce the siren with the gentle spirit of a
sprite and not be caught in his own web? Ignorance and arrogance, of course. Both
of which he would pay for with his heart. Damn, he should have apologized to her long
ago, right after he kicked himself for his stupidity.

So her refusal to see him chafed in every way.

Not that he expected to win her back. Why should she have him when he proved himself
nothing but a haughty boor?

Even though he loved her and accepted her for the wonderful, exotic woman of conviction
she was, Gavin knew he could not wed her. The damned Daggett curse still stood squarely
in his path. He accepted the loss of control he felt around her. Maybe some of that
was love. He wanted to believe so. But without proof, he refused to take Kira down
the path to ruination with him.

All chances for happiness seemed to slip away. He cursed.

Eventually, he would be forced to take a bride. As a duke, it was his family duty.
He’d already let Cordelia out of his grasp, knowing it would be unfair to wed her
today when he loved another. It seemed too much to hope that he would ever fall in
love again. He could not imagine loving another woman the way he loved Kira.

Pacing the room again, he sighed as he reached the massive stone fireplace. His head
was a tangle, his heart a bloody mess. Impotent anger rose inside him, raged. He cursed
again. Then he did something singularly impractical: he tossed the crystal glass into
the fire. The sound of it shattering satisfied some part of him
,
and he was proud when he did not even pause to consider the cost of his catharsis.

At least until the patter of slippered feet in the hall snagged his attention. He
turned to see Aunt Caroline throw open the door.

“Goodness, Gavin! Are you well? Hurt?” Her aging blue eyes scanned him with worry.

“No. I am in good health.”
If not in good spirits.

His aunt hesitated, then closed the door behind her slowly, silently. She approached
him.

“You have been moping for some days now.”

He evaded her gaze. “Exhaustion, likely. I will recover.”

“I taught you better than to lie to me.” Caroline frowned her disapproval. “We have
not spoken since the day Miss Melbourne left.”

“We’ve no need to speak of her now. I know your feelings on the matter.”

“I daresay you know nothing of my opinion.”

His aunt wasn’t leaving until she had her say; Gavin grasped that quickly. Since Kira
would never be his wife, he could stand, listen, nod—and grieve for her loss in private.
But for now, he felt the need for another drink…

Crossing the plush green-toned carpet to the small cabinet, he extracted another glass,
poured another finger, and turned to face Caroline.

“Fortification?” Her voice was no less sharp than her expression.

“I am prepared to hear your opinion.”

“With liquid courage, I see. Very well. When James brought Miss Melbourne to Norfield,
I think we all agree I was stunned. I disapproved of her scandalous reputation. She
did not love my son, nor did he love her.”

“That is true.”
Thank God.

“James is happier pleasing others, giving himself over to a cause he deems worthy.
As a clergyman, his reputation, and that of any wife he takes, must be impeccable.”

“Agreed.” What did she mean to convey? He already knew everything she had said.

“You look confused. James has not your strong nature, but rather a tender heart. Had
he married Miss Melbourne, he would have soon learned by means most harsh that the
public is neither understanding nor forgiving. When he was shunned and his sermons
avoided, your cousin would have been devastated.”

“Likely, yes.” Did she have a point? Not seeing one in sight, Gavin took a long swallow
of brandy and regarded her again with an impassive gaze.

“You, on the other hand,” his aunt continued, “could withstand the scrutiny and slurs
that being married to such a woman would bring.”

Only because he loved her. If not for the blasted Daggett legacy that would bring
shame and misery to them both eventually, he would beg her to marry him today. But
he still had his family to consider as well.

“Aunt Caroline, I appreciate your sentiment, but it would be unfair to force you to
endure the scandal.”

“Nonsense! I may not like such a circumstance, but to see you happy, I would do it
a hundred times over.”

“Indeed?” He smiled, pleasantly surprised. Perhaps his aunt was no longer haunted
by his father’s awful actions. “That is very good. But I will not be wedding Miss
Melbourne—
”

“Why not? She loves you.”

She sounded as if… No, it was impossible. Surely. “You
want
me to marry her for that reason? Not because I’ve ruined her?”

His aunt smiled. “I saw you kiss her. There was no mistaking the manner in which you
looked at her as she left the parlor that afternoon. I think you love her. If I’m
right, of course I want you to marry her.”

Gavin believed he would indeed be happy with Kira, if the Daggett curse made such
things possible. But—

“Well, do you?” she demanded.

He frowned, thoroughly puzzled. “Do I what?”

“Love her?”

He sighed. Why fight the truth or keep secrets anymore? “Yes.”

Aunt Caroline beamed. “Have you told her so?”

“No. I have been `round to see her several times.”
Every day for nearly the last week.
“But she will not see me.”

With small, white teeth, his aunt worried her bottom lip. “I suppose I ought not to
have mentioned that you plotted to compromise her so she would be forced to end her
engagement with James.”

“What?”

His heart sank to his toes. No wonder Kira had rejected each of his overtures. Aunt
Caroline’s confession
had
put the final nail in his coffin, as if he hadn’t looked the part of the cad already.
Now there could be no doubt. Gavin sighed, covering his tired eyes with his thumb
and forefinger.

“Why did you tell her?” he asked.

“I owed her an apology. She did help bring my James home. And he told me that Miss
Melbourne ended their engagement because she did not love him. Many women, I daresay
even myself, would not have had the courage to sacrifice their comfort or reputation
in the name of love.”

Caroline was right. And Gavin felt all the more terrible in the face of the truth.
What had he sacrificed for love?

Nothing.

No wonder Kira had asked him where his heart was. She’d known he was not heeding it.

“And since the day you gave her that information, Kira has refused to speak to me,”
he pointed out.

She grimaced. “Keep trying. She will come about. But it may require more than a box
of chocolates and an apology on your part.”

“God knows I owe her much more,” he said.

“Indeed. But you are a clever man. You will find a way.”

Gavin cast an absent gaze to the white plaster ceiling. He did not feel clever in
the least. But Kira… How had someone seven years his junior and without a wide life
experience understood something as complicated as the love between them when he did
not?

Because Kira was special—just another reason he loved her.

Another reason he did not want to see her hurt.

“Marrying Kira is not as simple as all that,” he admitted finally. “There is the matter
of… my father.”

Aunt Caroline frowned. “Your father. His behavior, you mean?”

“I do.” Gavin swallowed. “He… could not control himself where base pleasures were
concerned.”

She watched him with narrowed eyes, her mind obviously whirling. “And you… what? Imagine
that you are like him?”

Not trusting himself to speak, he nodded. It was bloody embarrassing to admit to the
woman who was nearly a mother to him that Kira incited a want so powerful, he could
not find a straight thought when she came near.

Caroline laughed. “Oh, Gavin. You are in no way like your father.”

Perhaps she did not understand. “I fear you may be wrong. I thoroughly compromised
Kir—Miss Melbourne, despite her engagement to James.”

“I know.”

“Despite my common sense and better judgment.”

She nodded.

“I… compromised her more than once, though she was not mine.”

His aunt’s faded mouth curled up in a kittenish smile. “Then you best get her to the
altar quickly.”

The woman clearly did not understand. “Do you not think that bespeaks a terrible lack
of self-control? Father used to tell me in detail of his drunken orgies. He would
tell me how much he needed the gratification he obtained from them. During those…
episodes, he would forget everything—time, place, morals, good sense. I never understood…until
Kira.”

His aunt crossed her arms over her chest. “My refusal to talk about your father’s
scandals have led you to some terrible conclusions, I fear. He filled your head with
nonsense.”

Gavin’s heart picked up speed. “What do you mean?”

“Richard was my brother
,
and I loved him for that reason alone. But he
never
had any morals or good sense. Perhaps you were too young to understand that.” She
sighed. “At fifteen, he was sent down from Eton for cheating and drunkenness.”

“Really?” His father had shown signs of dissipation that early?

“Yes. Mr. Heath, the headmaster at the time, said Richard was one
of
the most unruly students who had ever disgraced the school. And that was but one of
many scandals,” she assured Gavin with a wave of her hand. “I think your father thrived
on them, frankly. At least until they became the death of him socially. You, on the
other hand, have never shown any penchant for mischief. I daresay I even feared you
would go through life entirely too austere.”

“But—but Papa always said perversion was in the blood and that the blood would tell.
I know he wasn’t the only ancestor—
”

“There were several, I confess.” Aunt Caroline grabbed his shoulders. “Gavin, I ask
you, what other good English family with a history as long as ours has not had a knave
or two lining their portrait gallery? If respectability had been necessary for responsibility,
we should never have had George the Fourth as a monarch for five minutes.”

Gavin frowned, trying to grasp all his aunt said. “Then—then you don’t think I have
bad blood or I’ve been cursed…”

Caroline smothered a smile behind her small, soft hand. “Goodness, no. Your father
wanted to believe in such things because it was a convenient excuse for his behavior.
If he were already cursed, why bother restraining himself?” She smoothed a hand over
his shoulder. “The truth was, he loved your mother and she married him because her
family ordered the match. Rumor had it, however, that she loved a dashing Army officer
and her father, a very proper earl, did not find the man quite smart enough for his
daughter. He died in the war against Napoleon. Your mother was heartbroken, but married
your father. When Richard could not win her, he seemed to go mad. And his behavior
spun out of control. In the past, he had been merely embarrassing. He soon became
all that was shocking.”