Page 19 of The Duke of My Desire

“Well, if you ask me, she sounds exceedingly idiotic,” she said mildly, and smiled when he choked out a surprised laugh. “Any woman who doesn’t want a lovely man like you must be positively deranged.”

He met her gaze, a smile on his lips. “Lovely?”

She grinned. “Handsome, then. Handsome and virile.”

She was flirting with him again, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. She liked his smiles as much as she liked his blushes, and she wanted more of them both.

“Thank you,” he said, amusement lacing his voice. “Truthfully, though, I’m happy for her and wish her only the best.”

Not every man would be so generous to the woman who had broken his heart, but she could see that he was sincere and it struck her again what a decent man he was.

“Well,” she said softly, “I still think she missed out when she let you go, Your Grace.”

“Gregory,” he reminded her again, his voice rough now. His dark eyes held her captive, even from across the room, and a tingling shiver rushed down her spine and settled between her thighs.

“Right. Well.” She swallowed. “Good night, Gregory. And thank you again. I could have made this trip alone, but I’m glad I didn’t have to. I’m glad you’re here.”

“So am I,” he said. “But, in all honesty, my coming along wasn’t entirely selfless. I told you I could use a reprieve from London and that was the truth.”

“Oh, right,” she said. “Trouble with a woman.”

“Yes, trouble with a woman.” A wry smile turned his lips. “My mother.”

Justina’s brows rose in surprise. His mother? She had not expected that. In her experience, men usually adored their mothers. Phillip certainly had, but then, Lenora had been an easy woman to adore. Perhaps the duke’s mother was not so agreeable.

“Why are you running away from your mother?” she asked.

His head fell back against the chair and he sighed. “She’s been pressuring me to marry,” he said. “Which is not an unusual thing for a mother to do, I suppose. But she wants me to marry a woman of her choosing, the daughter of her closest friend.”

“Ah,” Justina said. “And you don’t wish to marry this daughter.”

“No. I don’t.”

“Is it because of your lady? The one you lost to another man?”

He shook his head, his gaze still on the ceiling. “No. Olivia has nothing to do with it.”

But he fell quiet after that and Justina wondered if he was being truthful, and if he was thinking of this Olivia person and regretting his loss anew. Did he still love her? Did he still wish she was his?

The thought set off a twinge in her chest that she didn’t expect or appreciate. Why on earth should she be jealous? The duke was nothing to her, and if he was still in love with this woman from his past, what of it? It made no difference to her.

“I have no objection to the lady herself,” he said quietly, almost as if he were speaking to himself. “Jane is sweet and intelligent, and I have no doubt she would make an excellent duchess.”

“But?” Justina prodded.

“But I feel nothing for her. And when I finally do marry, I want it to be for love.”

He shrugged self-consciously, as if embarrassed by the admission. As if a duke—a man—shouldn’t hope for such things.

“And your mother is of the opinion that a duke should be more practical than that?”

It was a guess, but Gregory’s humorless chuckle told her she had hit the mark.

“My mother is of the opinion that she knows best about everything, even my life. Especially my life.” He raked a hand through his hair then let his arm fall to his lap, his frustration evident in every movement. “I love her dearly and I know she loves me, but sometimes I wish...”

He trailed off with a sigh that said his wish was hopeless.

“But sometimes you wish she loved you a little less?” Justina finished for him.