Page 71 of This Marquess of Mine

He was not prepared for a marriage proposal. Her feelings for him—and his for her, whatever they may be—were the furthest thing from his mind right now.

This is madness.

Her resolve crumbled to dust.

“Forgive me,” she said, pushing to her feet. “This was a mistake. I—pardon me for disturbing you.”

“Olivia—”

But she was already on her way to the door, her desperation to leave quickening her steps. Stupid, stupid girl. Had she really come here to ask him to marry her? To ask him if he loved her? God, how pathetic. How foolish.

“Olivia, wait.” Griffin’s hand closed around her wrist as she reached for the door, and he tugged gently until she turned to face him.

“Why did you come?” he asked, his eyes searching hers. “Why did you want to see me?”

She shook her head and forced a smile. “It was nothing, Griffin. Please, forget about it.”

His lips formed a stubborn line, the way they always did when he wasn’t willing to give up just yet. “What is it?” he asked. “Are you unwell? Whatever is wrong, you can tell me.”

“I told you, I am fine,” she said, widening her smile. “Indeed, I’ve never been happier. After all, I will be a duchess soon. What more could a girl possibly hope for?”

His gaze sharpened on hers, his hand still grasping her wrist, warm and solid through the cuff of her sleeve. “You don’t look terribly happy to me,” he said quietly.

Her heart clenched. God, this man’s eyes. They saw far too much.

“Well, you’re wrong,” she said. “I am happy. Ecstatically happy. I am so happy I—” Her voice cracked and, to her horror, tears began to well in her eyes.

Frantically, she whirled toward the door, pulling her wrist free of his grasp, but his hands stayed her again, gripping her shoulders and gently urging her into the warm cradle of his arms.

Her eyes fell closed, and she swallowed as tears trickled down her cheeks. She sighed, pressing her face into his chest, inhaling his scent as his arms wrapped tightly around her.

It was strange, seeking comfort in the arms of the very man responsible for her heartache, but she didn’t care. It felt too good, and she was too weak to pull away. She would scold herself for the failing tomorrow. For now, she would savor this moment.

“Don’t marry Paxton, Olivia.” Griffin’s mouth brushed against her hair as he spoke. “He cannot make you happy. And you deserve a man who will make you happy.”

Her heart dipped and she drew back so she could see his face. “Do I?”

He smiled and stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “Without a doubt.”

Her breath caught in her throat at the tender look in his eyes, the sweet caress of his hand, and she wondered, wildly, if he meant to suggest that he could make her happy.

Say it, she urged. Say you love me. Ask me to choose you instead.

“Be patient,” he said. “The right man will come along soon enough. You have only to wait.”

The hope in her heart flickered and died, snuffed out like a candle’s flame, and the warmth in her chest cooled to ice. He had no intention of offering for her tonight. He would never offer for her. Not tonight, not tomorrow. Not ever.

She eased out of his arms and stepped back, brushing at her skirts. “I do not need to wait,” she said, keeping her voice even. “Paxton is the right man for me.”

“In your father’s eyes, perhaps. But not yours.”

Frustration tensed her jaw, but she did not reply. She did not trust herself to speak.

“You know I’m right, Olivia. Admit it.”

“So what if you are?” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “So what if the duke isn’t everything I’d ever dreamed of? Not all dreams come true.”

“But some do.”