Page 54 of The Duke's Goddess

IMMEDIATE REGRET SLAMMED THROUGH her and Joan grabbed her metal tongs to retrieve the letter from the coals.

She tamped it down with a heavy cloth, relieved that it hadn’t even had time to char. The paper had only turned a mild shade of brown.

She thought she was strong enough to ignore him. Strong enough to move on and into her future without him.

But her sisters’s words echoed in her mind.You’ll never be sure unless you read his letter. You could be the one that he finally fell for.

It was true. There was hope. And if there was even the tiniest shred of hope left, she needed to examine it.

Waiting for the letter to cool enough for her fingers to open it was the longest few seconds of her life. When she could finally peel open and unfold the letter, she read his words.

Dearest Joan,

I would have sent flowers, but you didn’t seem the type. Perhaps I shouldn’t be admitting to this, as it discredits the humility behind the gesture, but I couldn’t remain silent.

I secured the commission requests and had them forwarded to you. They are better than flowers, are they not? Everyone sends flowers.

Before you get angry and think they are pity commissions, rest assured, I didn’t need to convince anyone to make the purchase. I merely showed them one of your blades. Yes, I must confess, I stole one from the house party when I saw you throwing daggers. By the way, seeing your power and accuracy in hitting that bullseye was one of the most impressive things I’ve ever seen anyone do. And I’ve seen Sam and Wes compete in an abundance of activities.

At this point, you are probably wondering why I’m writing you a letter (and securing commissions for you).

The truth is that I want you to be happy.

Joan wiped a few tears from her cheeks at his heartfelt words, and then she continued reading.

I never wanted to ruin you. I’ll forever feel that it is my fault. I wish you would let me fix it, but I understand your reasoning.

I had hoped that we could be happy together in a marriage. But if you don’t envision that, I’ll not force you into something you’ll resent later.

Your happiness is important to me. I thought I could prioritize it above my own, but apparently I’m a weak man.

So, now, the reason for this letter. Will you meet with me?

Shocked, Joan let the missive drop to the table. He wanted to meet. What could he possibly have to say to her in person that he couldn’t say in a letter? The only time they had spent together was in scheming to get Sally and Jacob together. It would be awkward to be alone with him lacking a clear objective.

But then again, they had kissed. Where had the scheming been while his hands roamed her body and her legs hadstraddled his waist? A shiver laced itself up her spine. And all their side conversations that introduced layers to him she had never expected. His family. His mother. Lacking affection. The vulnerability he shared. There was no ulterior motive in those conversations. There was only connection. Pure. Deep. A threading between her heart and his that was still tugging on her.

Glancing down at his suggested meeting place and time, she knew she would go. He was making it easy enough on her that she had no excuse. She had to meet him. At the very least, she wanted to thank him in person for helping her grow her business. And she knew just how she would thank him. The thought brought a smile to her face.

And if that was all that she did, it would be enough. She would have a clear conscience to face her future knowing she and James could be friends. Friends. The word tumbled around on her tongue. Friends was good.

But before she accepted friendship as the final status of their relationship, she had to give them one more shot.

***

JAMES DIDN’T SEEM TO notice his incessantly tapping toe, but if he had asked the lawn, it surely, and sorely, noticed. But who was talking to the lawn? Not James. He wasn’t practicing his speech aloud. Mumbling through the words and stumbling over the newfangled emotions traipsing about his heart. No, not him.

And that certainly wasn’t him heaving a sigh, huffing out a breath, clasping his hands overheard in hopes of getting more air into his lungs.

It was a hot day, but not so hot as to warrant the trickling of sweat down his back. And across his upper lip. For the thirty-third time that afternoon, he dragged a hand down his face wiping away the excess moisture.

And he waited. Staring off at the hills hiding Bellator Manor in the distance. Joan’s place of residence.

He didn’t want to give her any reason not to meet him, yet he wanted to give her a choice. So he instructed her to meet him on her own property, on one of the ponds. The plan was to wait for her and if she didn’t show up, he would leave, taking that as her final answer. And he wanted to think that if she didn’t show up, he would execute his plan. But there was more than a small part of him raging about inside that wasn’t too sure he wouldn’t just saunter over to her house and force a meeting.

Fortunately, he didn’t have to make that decision. There, cresting the hill, was Joan. In a mixture of sage and emerald green hues that made her effervescent, James’s knees felt weak. And he finally did take notice of his tapping toe, which he stilled.

He wanted to run and meet her halfway, but more importantly, he didn’t want to scare her off. He was the one who had been scared before. Scared of marriage and a future. Now he was waiting for it with open arms. Literally.

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