"I am sorry, Your Grace," she whispered. "It was not my intention to cause him hurt."
The duchess studied her for a long moment before nodding. "I know, child."
Josephine exhaled softly.
"It is obvious you love each other," the older woman continued. "And yet you are both apart and miserable. Why?”
She hesitated. Unsure how much the duchess knew. Had Michael confided in his mother? It didn’t seem so.
“What has Michael told you?”
The duchess’s lips compressed in annoyance. “Michael has been obstinately close-lipped. I was hoping you would help me understand. I only wish to help.”
Should she confide in Michael’s mother? Would she understand?
But who else could possibly understand more?
Josephine took a slow breath, girding herself to reveal the secret that had dictated her every decision.
“I am barren, Your Grace. Surely you understand how that makes me unsuitable to be Michael’s wife.”
The duchess listened, her expression giving nothing away.
"Does Michael know?"
Josephine nodded.
The duchess’s gaze sharpened. "And did my son refuse to marry you once he learned of this?"
A pang of something fierce and bittersweet resonated in Josephine’s chest.
"No," she admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "He insists it does not matter. That he would be happy to let the title go to a distant cousin if need be. That he just wants me and would be content raising Edward as if he were his own.”
A slow smile touched the duchess’s lips. "Then I have raised my son well."
Josephine blinked, startled.
“Surely, as a duchess, you can see how it’s impossible. You must convince Michael—”
The older woman reached out, covering Josephine’s hand with her own. "You are an honorable woman, my dear. I respect you for it. But you are also wrong."
Josephine’s throat tightened.
"Twelve years ago, when he thought he had lost you—
“You knew about Michael and me…before, I mean. He told you?” She was horrified. What must the duchess think of her now…
“He didn't tell me then. He only confirmed it recently after I confronted him. But I noticed something between the two of you. I’ve always suspected. Especially when I saw how Michael changed after you left. He seemed… shattered. He went to war under that cloud. For years, I lived in constant fear that I would never see my son again. I thank God every day that he returned alive and well. But even after he settled into his life as a duke, I could sense he was never truly happy. And then you returned, and he was happy again. As a duchess, I may care about the title.But as a mother, I care only about my son’s happiness. And for that, Michael does not need an heir. He needs you.” The duchess squeezed her fingers gently. “So I ask you, Josephine—do you need him?”
Josephine’s vision blurred with tears.Yes. God, yes.
“More than the air I breathe,” she confessed.
“Then don’t let a misguided sense of honor come between you two. You have both suffered a great deal. You deserve happiness.”
The duchess’s calm acceptance, something she thought she would never have once she revealed her flaw, undid her.
"I will think about it," she whispered.
