Page 91 of The Last Duke She'd Marry
“Gertie? I’d have thought she’d be the last person to break. How much did you pay her?”
“Nothing. Which is a good thing, or else I wouldn’t have so much left to bribe the landlord.”
“You must have been very convincing.”
“Believe me, I was.”
Her arrival had sent his mind into utter disarray. How could he think when his heart ached with such longing?
But now, his brain started to work again. To his regret.
For one dazzling moment, Evesham had wondered against all expectations whether she was here because she’d decided she couldn’t live without him. That she’d found the last months as lonely and cold and generally unbearable as he had.
But she didn’t act like a woman itching to fling herself into a lover’s arms, heedless of the consequences. She was the same self-contained, composed lady he’d first met. Even the signs of suffering he read in her face could result from living as a social pariah since she’d left Afton.
The surge of euphoria that he’d felt at seeing her had lasted a mere instant. This wasn’t the passionate woman who had filled one night with rapture, before plunging him into the depths of hell where he’d howled ever since.
So why the deuce was she here? Evesham could only think of one reason. And he was pathetic enough to hope that he was right. Although if he was, she must be seething with anger. Not to mention consigning him to perdition.
To his shame, his voice cracked as he asked the obvious question. “Are you with child, Juliet?”
She went white and took an unsteady step back. Her trembling hands linked at her waist and twisted.
It seemed he was right. He’d been careful that one glorious night in Salisbury, but no prevention method was foolproof.
He should hate that carrying his baby was the only thing that brought her to him. But he’d sunk to such depths, he’d take Juliet on any terms. Even if she only stayed to avoid the ultimate shame of bearing a child out of wedlock.
It was a humiliating admission for the dashing Duke of Evesham. But then, he was no longer the dashing Duke of Evesham. He was a broken relic of a man, who would sell his soul for a kind word from the woman he loved.
“No, I’m not pregnant.” Her voice was so low, he wasn’t sure that he heard her correctly.
“You’re not?”
“No.” She was back to looking like a pure, bloodless statue.
“Then why are you here?”
She wasn’t carrying his child. Yet she’d gone all the way to Devon, then tracked him across the many miles to Kent. For the love of heaven, she’d paid a fortune to Jenkins for the privilege of seeing him. Hope, which he could have sworn was forever dead, sparked once more, made his heart pound with wild anticipation.
He strode across the floor and at last touched her. When his shaking hand curled around her arm, his heart constricted and warmth seeped into his blood. Since the day he left her, he’d felt cold. The glorious summer just past had felt like an arctic winter.
“Juliet, why did you come?” he asked. “Tell me.”
She was so pale that her blue eyes were huge orbs of darkness in her face. Her voice emerged as a hoarse whisper. “I…I came to ask you to take me back. If you’ll have me.”
Evesham sucked in a great breath, but still his mind reeled, as he struggled to come to terms with how she’d just changed his life. He was too distraught to be happy yet. Even if at last happiness hovered as a possibility.
“If I’ll have you? What bloody drivel is this?” His hand tightened on her arm as he confessed the truth. “For pity’s sake, you broke my heart, woman. Every day you’re gone just breaks it anew. Living without you will torment me until I’m dead and buried. Even then, I fear my spirit will linger this side of the afterlife, just in the hope of hearing you say you think of me now and then.”
Astonishment widened her eyes and wiped away the uncertainty that made him want to punch something. “Then, Lucas, for the love of heaven, why don’t you kiss me?”
What the devil? It was too much for flesh and blood to stand. With a muttered curse, Evesham wrenched her into his arms and his mouth crashed down on hers.
The sensation of holding her again hurtled through him like one of the thunderbolts outside. The taste of her. Her scent. Her glorious shape. All so familiar, all so desired. All so forbidden.
He devoured her like a starving man. Because without her, he had starved. It had been so blasted long since he’d kissed her. He felt like he’d been alone for a century. She clung to him and kissed him back with a desperation to match his own.
“My God, I’ve been dying by inches without you.” Then his pride in ruins, he spoke the words that he’d never said to another woman. “Don’t leave me, Juliet. Don’t go away again. I can’t live without you.”
