Page 90 of The Last Duke She'd Marry
“Lucas?”
He frowned at his reflection in the glass. Damn it, he’d finally gone mad.
He could swear that he’d just heard Juliet say his name. Unless he got out of this slump soon, his wits might never recover.
Evesham closed his eyes and told himself to smarten up. He’d heard that voice in a hundred dreams, but never before during waking hours.
“Lucas, look at me.”
His frown deepened. That sounded like Juliet when she was cross with him. In his fantasies, she was all blissful surrender, as she’d been during their one unforgettable night together.
Slowly he turned to face the doorway, afraid that there would be nobody there.
Shock slammed through him, stole every ounce of breath. A tall, blond woman surveyed him from the threshold with a cool expression that he remembered all too well. The modest gray traveling ensemble was familiar, too.
The sight of the dreary garment convinced him that Juliet was indeed here in the flesh. She never wore that monstrosity when he fantasized about her.
“Juliet…” On rocky legs, he took a step forward, then stopped as if he ran into a pane of glass. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, as he reminded himself that he couldn’t seize her up in his arms and kiss her into next Wednesday. Not given how they’d parted. Not when he had no idea why she was here.
“You were the lady downstairs.”
He’d wanted like blazes to see her again, but he couldn’t help fearing that this last glimpse before he left England forever would prove the fatal blow to any chance of peace.
“Yes.” She untied her damp bonnet and set it on the chest near the door.
His fevered gaze devoured her. Rain darkened the gray wool of her pelisse, and she looked cold and wet and out of temper. And beautiful. Oh, so beautiful.
That pure, delicate face had haunted every moment since she’d left him.
Were the features finer drawn? The traveling ensemble hung looser than it had three months ago. He hadn’t suffered alone, it seemed.
“I told Jenkins to send you away.”
To his surprise, wry humor twisted her lips. She suddenly looked human. All too human. Up to now, she could have been carved from marble. “He couldn’t resist two hundred pounds.”
Two hundred pounds? By Jupiter, that was a fortune. More than most people saw at once in a lifetime. “No wonder he let you upstairs.”
“I’d have paid more, but that’s all the cash I’m traveling with. If he said no, I’d have bartered my jewelry.”
She was so keen to see him? After all this time? None of this made sense.
“How did you find me?”
She released a soft exhalation and moved further into the room, shutting the door behind her. “You’re not going to throw me out?”
“And have you waste all that money? Perish the thought.” He knew that prolonging this meeting only worsened his agony. But he’d craved the sight of her. He felt like he breathed for the first time in months, even if he didn’t understand what she was doing here.
“I’m glad. I’ve been on a merry chase over half of England in search of you. The gossip is that you were hunkered down at Lancers.”
Amazement had him gaping at her. “You went all the way to Devon?”
“I did. And I had a devil of a time getting anyone to tell me where you’d gone. Your staff are all loyal, despite how you’ve neglected them.”
He was guiltily aware that she was right. About both the loyalty and the neglect. His servants had welcomed his return after all this time, and he’d felt the burden of their disappointment when he left as soon as he’d sorted out the mess his previous bailiff had left behind.
“Clearly not all of them were loyal, or you wouldn’t be here.”
“Your old nurse ended up taking pity on me.”
