Page 101 of A Duke Changes Everything
“Marry me and I’ll take you to every bloody ball in London. We’ll host our own. One a week, if you like. People will grow sick of the Duchess of Tremayne’s balls.”
He was close, his mouth inches from hers. His broad, warm body sheltered her from the cold.
“And you think they’ll accept me? A spinster? A commoner?”
“Dukes can do what they like. My father proved that.”
When she said nothing more, he hooked a hand behind her neck and tipped her head. “I don’t care what these people think of me. I don’t care about dancing and debutantes. I care about you.”
His mouth came down hard, his lips demanding. Mina clutched at his arm, wrapped a hand around his back, reveled in the solid strength of him, in the taste of him and the eagerness of his kisses.
All the rest faded away, and this—his heat, the comfort of him, the need between them—became all that mattered.
“Consider this a new proposal.” He kissed her again, softly. “Come to London with me. Leave the past behind in Sussex.” Another kiss, longer, lingering. “We’ll make a life that has nothing to do with Enderley or Barrowmere or Lady Claxton and her ilk.”
Yes.She wanted to make a life with him, and a part of her yearned for a new start. But old habits ran deep. Her thoughts wended their way back to Enderley, as if she hadn’t just inherited her father’s brown hair and eyes, but his worries too.
“What about Wilder and Emma and Mrs. Scribb? What about the repairs?” She heard herself sounding like his steward, and she wanted to take it all back.
Especially when his body stilled, his breath stuck in his throat, and he took a step away from her.
“I’ve offered you everything, Mina.” His voice was quiet, pleading. Then he squared his shoulders, hardened his jaw. “I’m leaving for London tomorrow. I want you to come with me.”
Mina held on to the edge of his coat and watched him let out a frustrated sigh.
“I know you care for the estate, and you’ve taught me to at least care about those who live on it. But must it come first?” He cupped her cheek. “Tomorrow, I need your answer.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Nick woke with a start and sat up in bed as if he’d heard some crashing noise or been doused with ice water. The fire in the grate had gone out in the night, and the temperature in the room was bone-chilling, despite the sunlight streaming through the curtains.
His insides felt cold.
Mina was gone. He sensed her absence like the quiet after music plays or the darkness of being locked in that bloody tower.
Much of the night, he’d kept vigil, sitting up in a straight-back chair in the corner of his bedchamber. Willing her to come to him. He wasn’t a praying man, but he’d become so desperate, he’d fooled himself into believing that he heard her footsteps in the hall. That the wind beating the window panes was a faint knock on his door.
But she hadn’t come. From the moment he’d asked her to marry him, some part of him had known the answer.
Who could love him? He was a broken man, the proof of it on his face, even for those who never got a glimpse of his twisted soul.
He stood, ignoring the stiff protest of his muscles, and made his way across the room to yank the bell pull. Moments later the housemaid, Emma, knocked softly at his door before coming through with a tray.
“Where is she?”
The girl gasped. He rarely spoke to her when she came to his room.
He gripped the knot at the back of his neck and tried again in a less demanding tone. “Where is Miss Thorne?”
“Couldn’t say, Your Grace.” The girl’s voice was so soft, Nick strained to hear her. “She departed early. Didn’t say when she’d return.”
She would come back to Enderley, of course, but would she come with him to London? He had a sickening sense that she wouldn’t.
“Will there be anything else, Your Grace?” The girl had backed herself against the door, holding the empty tray like a safeguard in front of her.
“Send a footman up. I want my clothing packed and a carriage prepared. I intend to depart for London today.”
The girl’s eyes ballooned. “Very good, Your Grace.”
