Page 144 of Pride: The Rogue
I just want him.
“You misunderstand me, Miss Lovelace. What I mean to say, is this: if you tell me, Mr. Latimer declared his love for you…” she ventured, with worried eyes, “if that is the case, I bid you tell me, Miss Lovelace,” she said, too emphatic for her sincerity to be feigned.
Livian bit the inside of her lower lip.
The duchess lightly squeezed her shoulder. “If your feelings are reciprocated, I will not pursue my connection with Mr. Latimer. I would not let myself come between two people in love.” A sorrowful smile quivered on the duchess’ lips. “I was a victim of such, and I would never be so cruel.”
The gloriously beautiful peeress was making it impossible to hate her. “You have my assurance, Your Grace,” Livian spoke softly. “Lach—” She caught herself, too late. “Where I’m concerned,Mr. Latimer’s heart is not engaged.”
Sadness filled the widow’s eyes. “But yours is.”
Livian could not force a denial from her mouth. Her lips quivered into a strained smile that hurt her face. The lie, however, was too much.
The Duchess of Argyll made for the door.
Before she could go, Livian called out. “Your Grace!”
Lachlan’s future wife looked back, a question in her eyes.
“Does it…become easier, Your Grace?” Livian asked, the unlikeliest person about her all-encompassing grief. “The pain?”
Livian found herself speaking, nay, rambling on before the duchess could answer. “My s-sister, she is very much in love with her husband, Lord Maxwell, and his love for her runs just as deep. M-My mother did not know about my father’s sordid past and simply believed his heart belonged entire to her. As such, I do not know a-anyone who,” had theirs broken as Livian’s had been, “that is…”
Through her misery, Livian caught the flash of pity in the duchess’ eyes.
This time, Livian managed to compose herself.
She drew in a jagged, but steadying breath. “Did you ever find yourself not hurting so?”As if someone reached inside the wall of my chest and squeezed the organ until it ceased to beat.
“I wish I could lie to you, Miss Lovelace,” the duchess said gently. “It doesn’t.”
Of course, it doesn’t. She’d not expected it did. She’d just…hoped.
“There are days that are better. There are people whose company you come to enjoy and distractions and diversions, and at those times, the thoughts come less, and you almost make it through the day without wondering if and why and—”
The duchess must have seen something in Livian’s eyes, for she stopped abruptly. “There was no one else for me, except the one I’d loved forever, but you are young, Miss Lovelace.”
“As young as you were when you fell in love?” Livian asked without acrimony.
“Yes, well, I was several years younger,” the duchess allowed. “But our relationship stretched the course of our lives. He’d made his affections known to me.”
Whereas, Lachlan hadn’t done so to Livian. A fresh wave of grief washed over her.
“All that to say,” the beautiful widow hurried to explain, “you are a young woman, and when you leave, it is my prayer for you, Miss Lovelace, that you discover these days were but trapped in a whirlwind of first love and the excitement of romance.”
Livian held her tongue.
If prayers worked, then, even now, she’d be strolling the vast ducal halls with Lachlan, while the peers played their games.
Tears rose at the brim of Livian’s eyelids, and she blinked furiously.
The gloriously beautiful peeress was making it impossible to hate her.
“Thank you, Your Grace,” Livian said, her voice thick with emotion.
“Oh, Miss Lovelace.” Sadness filled the other woman’s dulcet tones. “If there is anything I might do, anything, please, tell me, and it isyours.”
The duchess meant if there was anything she could do for Livianotherthan abandoning her eventual marriage to Lachlan.
