Page 40 of The Duke of My Desire

He pushed his chair back and rose to his feet.

“I would like to meet your young lady,” his mother said. “Will you bring her to me before you leave?”

“Of course. If you promise to be on your best behavior.”

She sniffed. “My behavior is always unimpeachable.”

“Of course it is,” he said, battling a smile. “My apologies for suggesting otherwise.”

With his assurances that he would return with Justina as quickly as possible, Gregory hurried from the room and up the corridor toward the bedchambers. He felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, at least in part, after this conversation with his mother.

He could only hope his next conversation with Justina would go so well.

He reached their bedchamber and hesitated at the door. Their last parting had not been pleasant, and letting himself into the room felt wrong. He knocked softly on the door and as he listened for Justina’s reply, he thought he heard movement inside.

“Justina?” he called through the door. “May I come in?”

There was another shuffling sound then a muffled voice, though he couldn’t make out the words. He frowned, the nape of his neck prickling.

“Justina?”

He eased open the door…and froze.

Standing in the center of the room was Justina, wide-eyed and unnaturally still, her cheeks wet with tears.

Behind her stood Nigel Lovelace, pressing a knife to her throat.

CHAPTER 11

Justina couldn’t believe the man she had once called her lover was holding her captive with a knife pressed to her throat.

Nigel had caught her unawares, slipping into the room while she was crying into her pillow, still upset after her conversation with Gregory.

He had her under his control before she even knew he was there.

She’d tried to break free, and when that hadn’t worked, she’d tried to reason with him, but he was beyond reason.

He seemed almost mad, in truth, and that terrified her.

Now Gregory was here, fury blazing in his dark eyes, and she didn’t know if she was relieved to see him or even more terrified because he might be hurt, and all because of her.

“Gregory—” She tried to speak, to tell him she was sorry and that she loved him, but the words gave way to a sharp hiss as the knife bit into her throat.

“Stop!” Gregory barked. “Let her go, Lovelace.”

“Why, good morning, Duke,” Lovelace said cordially, as if this were nothing more than a social call. “Do come in and shut the door behind you. We wouldn’t want anyone overhearing our conversation.”

Gregory turned and reached for the door knob, hesitating as he stared out into the empty corridor.

“I wouldn’t do it if I were you,” Lovelace warned. “Not unless you wish to see blood.”

Gregory shut the door and turned to face Justina and her captor. “Let her go, Lovelace,” he said, his voice hard. “Let’s discuss this like rational adults.”

Lovelace chuckled, and the sound sent shivers up Justina’s spine.

“There is nothing to discuss,” he said, tightening his grip on her arm. “I came here to collect Lady Dunne and that is what I intend to do.”

“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.” Gregory’s voice was mild, but she could see the restrained anger in the stiffness of his shoulders, and the clenching of his jaw.