Page 29 of The Duchess in His Bed
Placing her elbow on the counter, she cradled her chin in her hand. “Tell me about her.”
“Why should I? You kept your duke a secret.”
“Because of what I felt for him. It rather frightened me, I think. Have you strong feelings for this woman?”
“God no.” Although the words mocked him as a lie. What he felt for Selena was beyond description. That it terrified him on one level didn’t mean he was following Gillie’s path and falling in love. He’d spent thirty-two years on this earth without stumbling onto that path. He wasn’t about to take a detour toward it now. “She’s fun is all.”
“Funis hardly deserving of my finest wine. An inexpensive vintage would work just as well.”
“She’s accustomed to luxurious things.”
Straightening, she scrutinized him. Nearly as tall as her brothers, she intimidated a good many. “Nobility, then. One of the ladies you’ve met through your new club, I’ve no doubt. Don’t let her use you, Aiden.”
“How’s she going to do that? There’s nothing at all she could do to me that I wouldn’t welcome.”
“You’re thinking with the lower half of your body. I’m talking about the upper part, your heart.”
“My heart’s safe. I have no intention of ever giving it into another’s keeping.”
“Intentions can sometimes go astray. I never intended to fall in love with a duke.”
“Speaking of your duke, why isn’t he about? He seldom leaves your side these days.” She was swelling with his child, and Thorne hovered around her as though she were the first woman to ever give birth and was in need of constant protection. He was rather surprised Gillie allowed it, because she’d been independent her entire life.
“He had a funeral to attend. The Duke of Lushing, a man he greatly admired.”
Aiden’s gut clenched as though preparing for a blow. A duke being buried today. A secretive widow coming to his club. “Had he a wife, this Lushing fellow?”
Nodding, she grabbed a bit of flannel and began wiping the counter. “I’m given to understand they’d been married for some years.”
“Shouldn’t you have accompanied your husband?” If she had, then he could have acquired a description of the man’s widow, might know for certain if she was the woman who’d fallen apart in his arms. Although he couldn’t imagine the woman he knew coming to him before her husband was even placed in the ground.
“I’ve never met the duchess. I suspect she’d not be of a mood to make any new acquaintances. I certainly wouldn’t want some stranger bearing witness to my grieving. Besides, I’m not yet accepted by the nobility so that would add a layer of awkwardness to the whole affair.”
“Do you know how he died?”
She stilled, her gaze narrowing as she scrutinized him. “Why would you care?”
“Half my family is now ensconced in the nobility. My businesses, especially the newer one, cater to them. It just seems I should stay abreast of what’s happening among them, and you’ve become an incredibly wonderful source.”
Her shrug indicated she wasn’t at all susceptible to his flattery. He had no idea how a duke had won her over because Gillie had never been one to flirt.
“He fell ill. Thornley was quite taken aback to hear of his passing because the duke was a rather young man, in good health. A couple of days ago his widow brought him to London because he wished to be laid to rest in a cemetery here.”
Surely this duke was not Selena’s duke. It was merely coincidence that his arrival in London so well matched her appearance at his club. Yet what better way to escape grief than to become lost in living?
“Have any other dukes passed in the past year or so?”
His sister studied him as though he was speaking in another language. “I’m certain some have, but until Thorne came into my life, I paid very little attention to the goings-on among the nobility. It wasn’t as though I was moving about in their circles to know any of them or for their names to truly have any meaning for me. Thorne would no doubt know. Shall I ask him?”
“No, it’s not important.” Whether she was a day, a week, a month, a year, a century a widow, his interest in her wouldn’t diminish. Although it appeared another billiards game was in order, only this time he’d be the one posing the questions.
“Do you still want the wine?” Gillie asked, breaking into his thoughts.
“If you don’t mind.” He could always put fine wine to good use.
“I’ll write a missive to the butler and tell him which vintage to pour into a bottle for you.”
“I’ll paint you another unicorn for your tavern walls.” They were decorated with his artwork, as were those of the lodgings above where she’d once lived.
