Page 86 of Would I Lie to the Duke
A faint smile touched Noel’s lips. “One of the workmen left a saw in a corner. The blade was jagged, capable of cutting through nearly anything.” His jaw was tight. “I feel exactly like that saw blade.”
“The lady in question, she knows your feelings?”
Noel threw back the last of his drink and returned to the decanter. Apparently, it was a two-whiskey afternoon. “She knows. And fled as if I’d told her about my love for cannibalism.”
Holloway walked to him and held out his glass for a refill. “Civilizations all over the world have different thoughts about love. And the very fact that there are so many theories and myths about it shows that it’s fucking complicated.”
“Who the deuce said anything about love?” Noel snapped. At Holloway’s even, unblinking look, Noel slammed his glass down onto the table. Whiskey sloshed over the rim and onto his hand.
Scowling, Noel stuck the side of his hand into his mouth. He muttered, “I don’t love her.”
“But you’re serrated as a handsaw, sucking whiskey off your hand, and in general acting like a moody ass. Yes,” Holloway said carefully, “I can see that you clearly don’t have feelings for the woman.”
“Perhaps I do. What of it? It’s not reciprocated.”
“How certain are you of that?”
Noel crossed his arms over his chest. “She told me it was over. Didn’t say why, though.”
“What do you want for yourself, at least where this woman is concerned?”
“An abundance of questions, Holloway,” Noel grumbled. “Now I’m your newest subject of study.”
“What you are,” Holloway said gently, “is my friend. The selfsame friend who trained me in all the ways of rakehood, rather than let me flounder and fail.”
Noel swallowed around a hard mass in his throat. “If I hadn’t, you would have caused mass panic whenever you appeared in public. It was for the nation’s safety.”
Behind the glass of his spectacles, Holloway’s eyes were kind. “I ask again—what do you want for yourself and your lady?”
“I want to have her in my life,” Noel answered at once. “Today and every day thereafter.”
“Marriage?”
“I...” Hell. He’d never said anything to her about marriage. Only that he wanted to continue their liaison.
It didn’t need to be an affair. It could be permanent.
His heart thudded heavily. But— “She’s leaving the country.”
“She might not, if you offered something more lasting.”
Noel stilled. Then he flung himself into motion.
“I have to go.” He took three steps toward the door, then came to a halt. “You’re welcome to my cellar, Holloway, or my library or anything you damn well please.”
His friend tilted his head to one side as he contemplated the bookshelves. “Most of your books are merely decorative, so I’ll gratefully decline.”
“Get stuffed,” Noel said amenably before charging down the hallway.
He summoned his carriage, and within minutes, he drove toward Hill Street. The entire way there, he clenched and unclenched his hands. Once he reached her doorstep, once he saw her again, he’d get down on one knee...
Oh, but he wanted to kneel for her. He’d gladly be on his knees for her forever.
A lifetime with Jess, giving her endless pleasure, gratifying her every wish. It sounded just like heaven.
If she accepted him, he’d count himself one fortunate bastard, and spend every minute of every day of every year ensuring that she knew what a gift she’d given him.
If she refused him... he’d have to find some way of moving on with his life without his heart.
