When one is the rightful heir and the other wants everything just for himself. Josephine realised that she was caught in the middle of a succession war.
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Hero
Hero had an uneasy feeling he'd find himself burning in hell for the actions he'd taken today. And rightly so.
He'd been convinced the woman was marrying the Duke of Gloucester, cared only about the title, the prestige, the political gain, but the manner in which she gazed at him, the manner in which, even now, she frequently lovingly touched his arm as they stood in the drawing room greeting the guests who arrived at her parents' home proved his assumptions false. Without question. Without doubt.
He was a fool. She cared for him. Incredibly desperately.
No, she cared nothing for him, he chastised himself harshly. She cared for Eros, Eros who had called himself Hero all these years. His brother who'd told the world that Eros had gone off to America to seek his fortune. A plantation in Virginia, of all places. And he was writing himself letters to tell of his imagined exploits. Diabolical.
At least now Hero had an inkling regarding the manner in which his absence had been explained, although he still wasn't quite certain how Eros had managed initially to meet with such success. His parents must have questioned why one of their sons hadn't returned from a night of merriment. The servants must have wondered. Friends, acquaintances...any number of people must have suspected something was amiss.
Surely Weddington, of all people, would have harbored suspicions—
"Don't you think so, darling?"
He glanced down into the eyes of the woman looking up at him so painfully adoringly. "I'm sorry. I was distracted for a moment."
Worry flashed in her eyes, before she smiled more brightly and lifted her chin ever so slightly. "Lady Catherine was just saying how much her parents regret not being able to attend today's ceremony. I was assuring her that we would plan to visit them as soon as possible. I was simply asking if you concurred with my suggestion."
Who the fuck were Lady Catherine's parents? She looked vaguely familiar, but the only Catherine he remembered was a distant cousin his father had once talked of Hero possibly marrying. But then the girl had bloodied Eros's nose and the discussions had, thank goodness, come to a halt. The girl preferred trees and frogs to tea and frills. Of course, she was also all of twelve...
"Lady Catherine," he murmured.
She smiled becomingly. She was certainly no longer twelve.
"You must tell your brother that he need not stay away on my account. I hold him no ill will. And I would so love to see him again. Perhaps now I'd give him the kiss he fancied rather than a bloody nose."
"I shall tell him. And we shall see to visiting your parents, although it might be a while. My wife and I shall be rather busy for a time."
Her smile increased. "Of course you will, and well you should be."
