Page 133 of A Duke in the Rough

He folded his arms over his chest. “No. Not until you listen.”

“Are you commanding me as a duke, Your Grace?”

He held out his arms. “Do I look like a duke?”

No, he did not. Threadbare trousers and a rough weaved cotton shirt replaced the deep-blue superfine coat and impeccably tailored black trousers he’d worn earlier when he broke her heart with his lies. Not secured by an expertly fashioned crisp white cravat, the dull-brown shirt hung open at his neck.

“Why are you dressed like that?”

Rather than answer, he held up a book and turned to a page he had marked with a pressed flower. “You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me that I am not too late, that such precious feelings are gone forever. I offer myself to you again as a lowly groom with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it eight years ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. I have given myself to none but you. Although I’ve lied to protect myself, I am heartsick with sorrow for my deception. But please know, I have never been inconstant in my love.”

Stunned, and admittedly touched, she stared at him. “I’ve memorized that passage. That’s not exactly what it says.”

As if he needed more ammunition to besiege her heart, he pulled out his secret weapon and leveled his lopsided grin at her. “I may have embellished a trifle to fit our situation. But Honoria, whether groom or duke, I’m just a man who loves you.”

Every part of her wanted to throw herself into his arms, but she would not give in so readily. Still, she couldn’t withhold her smile. “You didn’t deface the book by writing those embellishments on the pages, did you?”

His hand flew to his heart. “I would never! I have visions of us curled up by the fire on a winter’s night reading to each other in our old age.”

“You do, do you?”

“Umm-hmm.” He stepped closer.

“Stay back.” She took several steps back and bumped into the treacherous log.

Grasping her around the waist, he righted her. His eyes grew hooded, his lips drew dangerously close to hers. “Please, Honoria, hear me out and allow me to explain. Then I’ll help you back on Buttercup.”

“Let go of me first. I can’t think when we’re this close.”

Oh, she shouldn’t have admitted that.

His lips curled upward, but he released her nonetheless. “First, let me say I was completely wrong to lie to you. I can’t change what’s done, but if I explain, I hope you will find the grace to forgive me.”

Shuffling his feet, he cleared his throat, looking so much like the boy she remembered. Unsure and shy. “When you refused me eight years ago, I believed you decided I wasn’t good enough for you.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but he raised a hand and silenced her.

“Please allow me to finish before you rage at me. I wanted to be loved for me. Who I am, notwhatI am.”

“I do—I did.”

“I know that now. But, I was hurt, Honoria.” He held up the book. “These words could be mine. I wanted to die rather than live with the belief you had rejected me. I did stupid, reckless things. They earned me medals for valor, but they were stupid nonetheless. Simon saved my life.”

Unbidden, she pulled in a gasp.

“He tried to talk me out of this scheme, so do not think less of him for agreeing to it. He did so unwillingly.” The ghost of a smile reappeared. “Although he enjoyed lording it over me at times, pretending to be a duke.”

When he moved forward, she worried he would try to embrace her again, but he stepped around her and headed toward the riverbank. Stooping, he picked a bouquet of forget-me-nots. “I had these planted specifically for you.” He held them out.

Suspicious wetness formed in her eyes, and she blinked it back. “I still have the ones you gave me that day. The day I knew I loved you.”

“Forgive me, and I will spend the rest of my life making it up toyou. I stand before you as a humble groom. If that’s the man you want, I’ll give all this up.” He swept his arms out.

Of course, she knew it wasn’t that simple. One couldn’t refuse a title or entailed property. Still, her wall began to crumble.

But sometime during the house party, she had changed. She would no longer give in to keep the peace. And she needed time to allow her heart to heal. “I shall consider it. It’s the best I can offer.”

His smile wavered, and he nodded as if his head weighed several stone. “It’s all I can ask for. Now, shall I assist you onto Buttercup so we can return to the house? Your mother and friends are worried.”

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