Had the circumstances been different. Had his past transgressions against Rhys not happened, then…marriage to this woman would be something he might have considered. His friendship with Rhys had been one such that he’d no doubt he’d have supported such a union.

“Lettie,” he said gruffly. “I wouldn’t dally with you.”

“No, I know.” She directed that response to his cravat, and Anthony tipped her chin, angling it up so he could meet her eyes.

“I could never court you,” he said flatly.

Lettie winced and moved to pull away, but he retained a firm but gentle hold upon her person. He needed to say this. He needed her to hear it so she’d know why he’d stayed away and why he could be nowhere near her.

“Your brother and I… We had a falling-out.”

She recoiled, her entire body jolting back. “What?” Hers was a whisper drenched in shock and disbelief, confirming that she’d known nothing, or next to it, about the situation between him and Rhys. “That is why you stopped visiting.”

He gave a tight nod. “Yes, and as such, this… You and I…” Anthony motioned between them. “All of this would be received less than well.”

There. He’d explained it. That should be enough.

Alas, this was Lettie.

She frowned. “I will have a talk with him about whatever it was he did. Your friendship was a great one and should not simply exist as…this.”

His chest tightened. How easily she assumed Rhys was to blame for the rift between them. “Your brother did nothing wrong,” he said gruffly. It was me. All me.

Her frown deepened. “I’m sure you’re just—”

His patience snapped. “I’m not just being polite or respectful or kind,” he cut in. “I was to blame, and as such, I’d respect his wishes to not see me or have me in his life. Now, if you will…let it go, Lettie, and let me at least honor his wishes that much.”

She hesitated, and for a long while, he expected she’d do that which she’d always done and stubbornly dig in. Except this time, this one time—saints be praised—she proved agreeable.

Lettie nodded slowly. “I will not speak to my brother of it.”

His shoulders remained tense. “Thank you.” Though her silence wouldn’t absolve him of this dastardly act. He glanced beyond the top of her head to the nearly full moon in the night sky. “You should return to the ball, Lettie.” Before he could commit yet another great transgression and take her in his arms once more, as he yearned to.

And then fate intervened to see that she complied.

There came another click as that blasted door opened for a third time, followed by a flurry of delicate footfalls. “Lettice Leanna Brookfield, you had better not be out here.” That grumbling came from above.

His stomach muscles seized.