Page 92 of The Last Duke She'd Marry
Juliet went still and to his excruciating regret, struggled out of his arms. She no longer looked like the pallid, woebegone specter that she’d been before he kissed her. Color flushed her cheeks, and her lips were full and red.
He waited for her to make some declaration of her feelings, but instead she glared at him as if she was livid. “You gallant, ridiculous idiot, why on earth didn’t you tell me the truth?”
Chapter 26
Juliet watched incomprehension flood Lucas’s features. “The truth? I just did. I love you, Juliet. I can never change that.”
She believed him. That wild, clumsy, ravenous kiss had reassured her that he’d missed her as much as she’d missed him. After all the empty days, hearing his vehement avowal felt like a miracle.
“I don’t want that to change.” Her voice was choked. “Because I love you, too.”
She watched a fragile faith seep into his expression, replacing strain and confusion. This time, when he drew her into his arms, there was more tenderness than fury, but the effect on her vulnerable heart remained as powerful.
Instead of a tidal wave of desire, this kiss was as sweet as honey. When she emerged from bliss, she was cuddled up next to him on the chaise longue in front of the blazing fire.
“Are you really here to stay?” Lucas stared down into her eyes. “I couldn’t survive if you left me again.”
She examined his beloved features and recognized the harm she’d done. Guilty regret knotted her stomach. “I’ll never leave you while I have breath in my body.”
She’d suffered during their awful separation. She saw that he had, too. Perhaps even more than she had. The deep lines between nose and mouth and the hollows in his face told a story of loss and longing.
Her promise to stay eased the tension in his features, but shadows lingered. Mere words weren’t enough to heal the wounds they’d suffered.
“You should have told me that day in Salisbury,” she said again, exasperated with him even as she loved him. Although part of her couldn’t help admiring the stubborn valor that had so nearly divided them forever.
He studied her face, as if he cherished every feature. “That I love you? But I did. Over and over. It didn’t seem to make much difference.”
Juliet winced to recall her behavior at the inn. On that abysmal day, she’d been so sure that she occupied the moral high ground. Yet all she’d done was consign them both to three months of soul-shredding wretchedness. She shuddered to think how close she’d come to losing him.
“It should have. I’m sorry. But that’s not what I’m talking about.” She paused. “Vanessa came to see me.”
A dawning realization sharpened his features. “You know what happened all those years ago?”
“I do. She told me everything.”
“I wrote to her for permission to tell you. By God, I must have written to her fifty times. I assumed the letters didn’t reach her.”
“They almost didn’t. She’s moved back to London. Your letters followed her from the Rhineland. Ever since she called, I’ve been trying to find you to beg your forgiveness – and tell you I could box your ears.”
She saw that the threat didn’t worry him. Not now that he knew she loved him. “You nearly missed me here. I should have sailed last Tuesday.”
Despite the moment’s solemnity, she couldn’t contain a dismissive snort. “As if the English Channel could stop me. I’d track you down to the ends of the earth if I had to.” Her voice lowered to seriousness. “But you should have trusted me with the truth.”
His expression hardened to reveal the strength of character that she ought to have recognized long ago. It had been a humiliating blow to discover that the man she’d always disdained as a hedonistic wastrel was much more principled than she, the supposed paragon of virtue.
Lucas’s tone was as austere as hers. “I gave my word to Vanessa that I’d never reveal what happened when I helped her to run away from Granville. Never under any circumstances.”
“Up to and including facing Granville in a duel.” Her hands clenched hard in his crumpled shirt. Adore him as she might, the thought of him risking his life made her want to clout him. “He could have killed you, you stiff-necked idiot.”
To her surprise, humor curved his lips. “You really shouldn’t dote on me with such sweet endearments, my darling.”
“You’re lucky I don’t wring your neck.” Juliet glared at him, although she didn’t pull out of his embrace.
How could she forget seeing his scar for the first time? For pity’s sake, she could have lost him before she found him. The thought turned her blood to ice.
“The man’s too honorable to murder me,” Lucas said with an unconvincing attempt at lightness.
“And you’re too honorable for your own good.”
