Page 63 of In Scandal with the Duke
“Love is worth fighting for,” her father said, intently searching her face. “I suspect you love this gentleman. I have never seen your eyes so dull.”
His soft words pierced her heart. She rose onto her toes and brushed her mouth against his cheek. “They will brighten again, Papa, in time.”
Then she turned and hastened from the room, unable for him to see the deep unhappiness that must be naked on her face.
She already commands my deepest regard and utmost respect.
Those words were knocking around in her heart. They were not words of love or affection, though she doubted any sane person would profess such intimate thoughts to the gossip sheets.
I am overthinking the matter.
It would be silly and outrageous to attach more meaning to his letter to the Daily Gossip than what the duke meant.
What love am I to fight for, Papa? But I want to because I love him so very much. I shall write to him and express—
Elizabeth’s thoughts fractured, and she froze, staring at the man walking down the long hallway of her father’s home. She closed her eyes tightly, and when she snapped them open, he was closer, appearing windswept and dashingly handsome. Her heart skipped into an uneven cadence. The memories of their time together leaped between them—every kiss, each dance at a ball, each time they tumbled together into making love, their shared laughter and long conversation. “James?”
She heard a sharp inhalation and knew her father was behind her, but James only had eyes for her. Elizabeth felt such chaotic emotions she could only press a hand over her chest and stare at him.
“How can you be here?”
The duke stared at her solemnly. “Elizabeth, I am so damn sorry. There should not have existed even a second where I doubted the honesty of your character.”
He sounded so sincere, so deeply honest, that she wanted nothing more than to believe in him.
“I … why are you here …how… I …” She pressed a hand to her throat, her heart slamming far too painfully inside her chest. “I have only been home a few days; that day would mean …”
“I left England the day after you departed. Your brother mentioned that you vowed never to return.” His eyes were pools of molten silver, filled with love and regret. “There are so many things I wanted to say to you … so many nights I stared at the ocean and practiced, for they were words unfamiliar to me because I have never said them to another soul. Now that I am here … and you are before me … I am fucking breathless and without any damn words. I can only feel and what I am most certain of is that you are my beloved.”
Oh!Elizabeth almost sobbed at the fierce emotions tearing through her.
Her father made another sound of shock, and Elizabeth could feel the color rising hotly to her cheeks. Then, she heard the sound of a door closing behind her, and she realized he had retreated to give them privacy.
“I do not know where to start,” James said gruffly, taking another step closer but still maintaining a respectable distance.
“I … my mother sent me the newssheet with your letter,” Elizabeth said softly, taking a single step toward James, tears running down her cheeks. “I daresay you have started another scandal.”
His intense and unyielding gaze locked onto hers, conveying a depth of sincerity that pierced her defenses. “I love you, Elizabeth, so much it damn well hurts. Forgive me for being a fool. If you would do me the honor by being my wife, my friend and my duchess, I vow I will never give you cause to regret it. If you have no wish to live in England, we will live here, and I will travel for my duties in Parliament.”
“You would … you would do this?”
A tenderness entered his gaze, and he smiled. “Yes, Elizabeth, I will.”
She dashed into his arms. James hugged her tightly as she burrowed against his chest. Elizabeth pressed her nose into his chest and greedily inhaled his intoxicating scent. James’s heat and scent wrapped around her body like an embrace, caressing and soothing her in a way she had never felt before. “I am not afraid to return to England,” she whispered.
Strong fingers threaded through her hair, and she felt her head pulled back—gently but insistently. Their gazes collided, and the emotion in his eyes squeezed her heart.
“Will you marry me?”
She smiled and sniffled. “Yes.”
James pressed his mouth to her forehead. “Your tears slay me, Elizabeth. I am sorry.”
A breath shuddered from her. “They are happy tears,” she whispered. “I am so very happy you are here.”
“You forgive me.”
His voice was awed, as though she gave him a precious gift.
