Page 85 of Without Pride and Prejudice

“But it can.”

“That’s what the young always think.”

“I love Fitz—I mean Alastair.” She hated my nickname for him. “We’ve loved each other for a long time.”

“You were wise to become friends first,” she said in a hushed tone, like she didn’t want me to hear her.

Huh. She thought I’d done something smart. “I think so.”

“Anyway.” She took her mother’s ring off her hand. “You can have this.”

“Is this a trick?”

Her lips ticked up slightly. Oh my gosh, was she going to smile? I didn’t know she could do that. “Just take it,” she snapped.

I tiptoed toward her, a little afraid. I peeked at the letters in the box, and they seemed to be love letters from Reginald. Some of them were yellow and faded, but a few of them had hearts drawn on them.What made them drift away from each other?I wondered. I hesitated to take the ring out of her aged, but well-manicured, hand.

“I mean it; you can have it. My son is obviously in love with you. Quite frankly, it’s nauseating how in love you two seem to be.”

I couldn’t help but giggle.

She wrinkled her nose. “That said, you are good for him.”

“What?” I asked, stunned.

“Don’t expect me to repeat it,” she barked. “Take the ring and go. And try to keep it down. I don’t need to hear any of your sexual escapades tonight.”

I took the ring, still in shock and really hoping she’d never heard Fitz and me ... well ... you know. “Mum B.,” I dared tosay. “If you ever want to talk about what’s in that box, I’m all ears.”

She said nothing, but waved me away.

“I’ll take that as a rain check.” I pranced out of the room, carefully cradling the ring. It felt weird for me to swap my wedding ring for it. I would add it to Fitz’s Valentine’s Day gift and let him decide.

I rushed down the hall to our wing of the house and into our bedroom to change into the black slinky gown I’d bought for the occasion. The dress, barely more than a slip, was lying across the floral comforter. I’d added several womanly touches to the stately room with grand, dark wood furniture, including the pink parfait wallpaper with cream flowers I adored from Pride and Prejudice Park. Fitz didn’t seem to mind. He’d said I was the best addition to his room.

I changed quickly and grabbed the small gift bag holding his present, carefully dropping his grandmother’s ring into it. Before I walked out, I couldn’t help but read the letter Fitz had left on my pillow this morning one more time. It was just a simple Valentine’s Day note.

My dearest Monroe,

Happy Valentine’s Day. Thank you for continuing to love me without pride and prejudice.

All my love,

Fitz

PS: I plan on showing you more of my duke side tonight.

Oh, baby, I could not wait.

I glided down the stairs, eager for tonight. Halfway down, Fitz opened the door, carrying a single red rose that was just starting to bloom. I don’t know why, but I found that so romantic—maybe because I knew he’d picked out the perfect one just for me.

“Hello, lover,” I purred.

Fitz’s head snapped up, and he dropped his satchel. “Monroe,” he said, like he was out of breath.

“Do you like?” I slinked down the rest of the stairs.

He met me at the bottom at lightning speed. “You are a vision.” He handed me the rose before pulling me to him, smashing the flower and bag between us. His hands slid down all my curves. “Happy Valentine’s Day to me.”

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