Page 43 of The Duke of My Desire

But it would seem she had no choice.

“Now then,” the duchess said as they both settled in their chairs. “I understand my son asked for your hand in marriage.”

Justina blinked, her face flooding with heat. Apparently there would be no beating about the bush today.

“He did, Your Grace.”

The duchess stared at her as if waiting for her to say more, but Justina stubbornly held her tongue and stared right back at her.

“I also understand that you refused his proposal.”

“I did.”

“Hm.”

The older woman continued to study her with cool brown eyes, her face devoid of emotion. Justina laced her fingers in her lap, trying to resist the urge to squirm in her seat.

“Not many women would pass up the chance to be a duchess.”

Justina lifted one shoulder. “I have never cared very much about titles.”

The duchess nodded as if in understanding, though she was silent for a long while before speaking again. “Your husband was the Baron Dunne, yes? I do not believe I ever met him, but I was sorry to hear about his death. He must have been quite young.”

“Just four-and-twenty,” she replied with a regretful smile. “He was the best of men. Everybody who met him came to love him.”

“And you? Did you love him?”

Justina stiffened. She did not wish to discuss Phillip or her feelings for him, especially with this woman—this stranger—who seemed to think she had the right to ask whatever questions she wished, for a purpose only she knew.

“I did. Very much.”

The duchess studied her for another long moment then drew in a deep breath. “I understand now why you cannot marry my son. Your heart still belongs to your husband, doesn’t it?”

Justina’s lips parted, a reply on her tongue, but the shock of what she’d almost said struck her like a thunderbolt, rendering her speechless. Good Lord, had she truly almost said no? How could that be? Of course her heart belonged to Phillip. It always had and always would.

Allowing herself to have feelings for Gregory would be a betrayal to her husband, to their marriage, to his memory. She couldn’t have feelings for Gregory.

But there was no denying that he mattered to her. He had touched more than just her body, had slipped past her defenses and under her skin in a way she never thought another man could. What did that mean?

What did she want it to mean?

Before she could answer the duchess, however, there was a knock at the door and then Gregory let himself into the room. Her heart stuttered at the sight of him, her body urging her to run—not from him, but to him, straight into his arms and stay there forever.

She would always love Phillip, but perhaps she could make room for another man in her heart. A special man. A man like Gregory.

“The magistrate has been sent for,” he said, looking at his mother and then to Justina. “I’m afraid we’ll have to give him our statements, which will further delay our departure, but I think we should still reach your sister’s house by nightfall. If that is still where you wish to go.”

Justina swallowed, her heart beating a frantic tattoo as she thought of saying goodbye to this man, of letting him go. She pictured a future without him, a future just like these past three years had been, lonely, isolated, colorless.

She stared at him, a multitude of emotions swirling within her. Fear. Hope.

Courage.

Gregory cleared his throat. “Can I get either of you anything while we wait? Tea? Sherry?”

“Thank you, dear, I’m fine,” the duchess said.

Justina shook her head. “I’m fine, too.”