Page 40 of The Mistletoe Duke

She stared at him, her mind in a whirl. There were so many thoughts, she didn’t know where to start. Oh, she was delighted that none of the others interested him, certainly. And she was thrilled beyond bearing that he seemed to be courting her. But something had haunted her for years, and haunted her still.

When he took her hesitation for assent, and moved to kiss her again, she stopped him, but it cost her.

She had to look away. “Tessa was my best friend.” It was terrible to feel guilty for wanting to take her place. It was heart-rending in fact.

“And George was mine.” He turned her to face him. Offered a smile. “I like to think of them in heaven together.”

She had to smile at that.

“I think they would approve of us. Being together. They would approve of our marriage.”

The words shocked her. Our marriage. Something she’d never dreamed could come to be.

He continued, unabated. “Tessa would want you to be a mother to our girls. She wouldn’t want it to be anyone else. Don’t you agree?”

She couldn’t say no. Lying was a sin. “I do love the girls. With all my heart.”

“I know you do.” He took her hands in his, both of them. Enclosed them in the blanket of his warmth. “Do you think you could come to love me too? Some day? I would be honored if you said yes.”

“Love you? Some day?” She knew she was acting like a parrot, but she couldn’t help it. The nonsense he was spouting boggled her brain.

“Is it such a ludicrous idea? I am a duke after all.” His hopeful expression collapsed. It pained her to see.

“Oh, Jonathan,” she sighed. “I don’t care that you’re a duke. I never have.”

“But—”

She silenced him with a finger to his lips. “Hush, darling. And listen to me.”

He stilled. A smile blossomed on his oh-so-handsome face. “Did you just call me darling?”

“Hush. Darling, I have loved you for years. Since the day you rescued me from that tree. Do you remember?”

“Of course I remember. You were all scraggles and limbs.”

She frowned at him. “No need to be rude. The point is, I do love you. I always have. I just never thought you would be drawn to someone like me.”

“Someone like you?” He reared back and, to her horror, gave her the old up and down. What did he see, when he looked at her like that? Surely not a face that wasn’t as perfect as Tessa’s? A body that was most certainly plumper? Hair that wasn’t that lovely shade of blonde?

“Tessa was beautiful.”

He nodded. “She was. And you are beautiful too.”

It was difficult to hold back her snort. “Not as beautiful as she.”

He gave a small laugh. “I wish you could see yourself as I see you.”

“And how is that?” Was it foolish to ask?

“Perfect. A perfect woman. A perfect wife. A perfect duchess… You’re the one I want, Meg, and, if you are willing, you are the one I shall have.”

And then, perhaps to end the argument, such as it was, he kissed her soundly. And it was glorious. He kissed her and kissed her—and, to be honest, she kissed him—for quite some time. They would probably have continued on forever, except a terrible thought occurred, and Meg had to pull away.

Jonathan studied her expression and his lips took a downturn. “What is it?”

“Oh, Jonathan, dear. What about your mother? She had such hopes that you would land a society bride.”

“You are a society bride,” he growled.