Page 6 of The Duke of My Desire

It felt good to laugh after all that had happened tonight, to converse in a drawing room as if life was normal and all was as it should be.

She could almost forget she had a problem to solve.

Almost, but not quite.

A maid entered the room then with a tea tray and the duke’s butler following behind her, carrying a folded blanket in his arms.

“Thank you, Sally. Davies.” The duke stood and took the blanket from Davies as the maid set the tea tray on the table by the sofa.

“Will there be anything else, Your Grace?” Davies asked.

“No, that will be all.”

The duke worked at unfolding the blanket as the two servants left the room. “May I?” he asked, holding the blanket out in front of her.

Justina nodded and lifted her arms, careful not to spill her drink. He draped the blanket across her legs and she thanked him, using her empty hand to tuck the cozy wool about herself.

The duke poured himself a cup of tea then rejoined her by the fire.

“Are you warming up?” he asked before taking a sip of tea. Humming his approval, he set the cup and saucer on his knee and turned to look at her.

“I am, thank you.” She gave him a smile, and he returned it, but he was watching her closely, his gaze both curious and concerned, though strangely unobtrusive. He was watching over her, and it felt nice. She hadn’t been cared for in quite some time.

The flames crackled softly as she studied him in the firelight’s glow, and she realized his hair was not brown as she had thought but a deep, rich auburn that shone like amber. His eyes shone, too—intelligent, expressive, with dark lashes framing irises the color of warm gingerbread.

Justina adored gingerbread.

Good heavens, she was staring at the man.

Embarrassed, she forced her gaze to the fire and firmly reminded herself precisely where she was and what had brought her here. “I’m sorry,” she blurted out. “About tonight. I know this is not how you wished to spend your evening, playing host to a strange woman you saved on the street.”

The duke sipped his tea before replying. “You have nothing to apologize for. I’m only glad I was there to help.” He set his cup down on the saucer with a soft clink of porcelain. “The man who accosted you…who is he?”

Justina sighed, letting her head fall back against the chair. “His name is Nigel. He is the Viscount Lovelace. You do not know him?”

“No.” His voice was hard. “Does he often put his hands on you like that?”

Justina’s eyes closed as her mind flashed back to the biting grip of Nigel’s hands, the fear she’d felt when he would not let her go. “No,” she said quietly. “He has never done so before tonight. Indeed, I was shocked by his behavior. I had no idea he would become so angry when I tried to—” She broke off and swallowed hard. “But that is not your problem.”

She had burdened this man enough for one night. He was not her family, nor her confessor. This was her trouble, her problem to solve. She was on her own and she would do well to remember that.

“What will you do now?” he asked.

She felt his eyes on her as she sipped from her glass, her thoughts whirling and not from the whiskey. “I don’t know,” she said. “But I shall think of something.”

She always did, didn’t she? She’d faced worse situations than this, and she always found a way through it. She would find a way through this, too.

Weariness settled over her suddenly, making her yawn, and she sent the duke an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It isn’t the company, I promise.”

“It’s late and you’ve had a rough night. I know we’ve only just met, Lady Dunne, but you are welcome to stay here with me for as long as you like.”

She studied his face, searching for a hint of deception, an ulterior motive, but she saw only kindness and concern.

He cleared his throat, a blush staining his cheeks. “That is to say, you are welcome to stay here. In my empty guest room. By yourself.”

His embarrassment was sweet and assuaged any lingering concern she might have felt over his intentions. After all, no one could fake a blush.

“Thank you, Your Grace,” she said. “I would be grateful for the use of your guest room.”