Page 37 of The Duke of My Desire

“Liar. You’re not thinking about your mother again, are you?”

Gregory smiled. “No.”

“Then what is it? And don’t say it is nothing. I saw the way you were frowning a moment ago.”

He drew in a breath, his chest heavy with the weight of unspoken confession.

I’m in love with you and I’m afraid you don’t feel the same. I’m afraid you never will.

But he didn’t say that. He gave her a different truth instead. “We should arrive at your sister’s house by dinner time.”

He stepped closer to the bed, his gaze roving over her face, searching for even the barest hint of sadness or regret, but her expression was frustratingly impassive, revealing nothing.

“I’m not ready to say goodbye to you,” he said softly, testing the waters. Baring just a bit of his heart.

A gentle smile curled her lips. “I know. Neither am I.”

Hope unfurled in his chest, making his heart race as he sat on the bed beside her.

“Then let’s not,” he said, the words rushed, hoarse with his eagerness.

She blinked at him, her smile faltering. “What?”

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips then another to her cheek. “Marry me, Justina,” he whispered against her ear. “I love you.” He drew back to gaze into her eyes as he repeated the words in his heart. “I love you.”

“Gregory, I...” Something like panic flashed in her eyes and then she smiled again, but this one was forced. Brittle. “You are being silly. You don’t love me. You love being naked with me.”

He took her hand in his and smiled. “I do love you naked, but I love you clothed, too. And I want to spend my life with you.”

Her smile, false though it was, withered on her lips. “Gregory,” she whispered, slipping her hand from his. “I can’t.”

He closed his eyes, shutting out the regret shimmering in her eyes. “Why?”

“I just...can’t,” she repeated. “Please try to understand.”

“How can I understand when you’ve given no explanation?”

“I...I’m sorry...” She trailed off and Gregory stared at her for a long moment, waiting for her to continue, to offer him some solace, some hope.

But she turned away from him then, shutting him out, and his chest ached as if his heart had splintered into pieces.

“Justina—”

“Weren’t you going to take a walk, Your Grace?”

He stared at her rigid back for several moments, wanting to say more, to beg her to explain, to reconsider, to love him back, damn it all. But pride held his tongue and without another word, he rose from the bed and slipped out of the room. He barely registered the walk up the corridor and down the stairs, his mind fixated on the memory of Justina’s words, the look in her eyes as she rejected his love.

Why would she not have him? Why could she not let him in? Had these last few days meant nothing to her?

He pushed through the front door and out into the drizzly day, suddenly desperate to get outside where he could breathe and think and hurt.

Bloody hell, he’d bared his heart to her and she’d refused him. She was everything he’d ever wanted. He knew in his soul that they were a perfect match, but she’d turned him away without explanation. After all they’d shared, didn’t he deserve to know why?

“Gregory!“

His head snapped up and his jaw went slack. Stepping down from a black-lacquered carriage was his mother.

“At last I’ve found you,” the duchess said as she hurried towards him in a flurry of burgundy velvet. “Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been? What in heaven’s name have you—” She broke off, her dark gaze flitting over his face. “What is wrong? Are you unwell?”