Page 165 of Courting the Wrong Duke

That realization had followed William into the second inn the previous night and, unfortunately, Gabriel had been there to witness it.

“You are staring at the ceiling,” his friend observed from the other bed.

“I am trying to sleep.”

“You have been trying very aggressively for nearly twenty minutes.”

William turned his head. Gabriel lay with his hands folded behind it, looking entirely too comfortable for a man who had spent most of two days on horseback.

“What?” Gabriel asked.

“Nothing.”

“That expression has never meant nothing.”

William should have kept his mouth shut. Instead, he asked, “Do you think I have ruined everything with Rosalind?”

Gabriel’s eyebrows rose. “Oh.”

“Forget I asked.”

“No. Absolutely not. I have waited weeks for this.”

“For what?”

“For you to become interesting.”

William threw a pillow at him, which Gabriel caught easily against his chest.

“I am serious.”

“I know.” His laughter faded. “All right. Tell me.”

William looked back at the ceiling. “When we began this ridiculous arrangement, I thought it would make everything easier. My mother would stop presenting eligible women to me, Rosalind and I could investigate without inviting gossip, and eventually we would end it. That would be that.”

“And now?”

William thought of a peach-colored sky, Rosalind laughing in the sunshine as they played battledore, and her hand finding his when everything he believed about his father had begun to fracture.

“Now I cannot imagine not seeing her.”

Gabriel said nothing, which somehow made it easier to continue.

“I look for her whenever I enter a room. I hear something amusing and wonder what she would say about it. I remember things because I want to tell her later.” He gave a faint, humorless laugh. “Then I remember the courtship was never real.”

“I suspect friendship still permits conversation.”

“That is not what I mean.”

“No,” Gabriel said softly. “I know.”

William closed his eyes. There seemed little point in avoiding the truth any longer.

“I think I am falling in love with her.”

The admission should have frightened him. Instead, it felt almost inevitable.

There had been no single moment when everything changed. Rosalind had simply worked her way into his life piece by piece until the pretense between them had become the least honest part of their courtship.