Page 50 of A Night of Desire with a Duke
"The whole household's talking about it, my lady," Martha said carefully. "The Duke fighting for your honour."
"He wasn't fighting for my honour. He was fighting because Lord Pemberton bruised his pride."
"If you say so, my lady. Though Tom, he's the second footman, he was there delivering a message to Lady Sefton's butler, and he says the Duke looked ready to commit murder when Lord Pemberton said you'd been seduced."
Catherine's hands clenched in her lap. "I haven't been seduced."
It was a lie, of course. She'd been thoroughly seduced, just not in the way everyone assumed. Not by a title or fortune, but by grey eyes and clever hands and a voice that could make her melt with a word.
"Of course not, my lady," Martha agreed, though her tone suggested she wasn't entirely convinced. "Will you accept his courtship?"
"I don't know."
"He's a duke, my lady. You'd be a duchess."
"I don't care about being a duchess."
"Then what do you care about?"
Catherine was quiet for a long moment. "Being happy," she said finally. "Being free. Being with someone who sees me as more than a title or a conquest."
"And the Duke? Does he see you that way?"
Catherine thought about the way James looked at her; like she was a miracle and a torment all at once.
"I don't know," she admitted. "I thought I knew, once. But that was before..."
"Before?"
"Before everything became complicated."
A knock at the door interrupted them. Martha went to answer it, returning with a letter on a silver salver.
"From His Grace," she said, her eyes bright with curiosity.
Chapter 10
Catherine's hands shook slightly as she broke the seal. James's handwriting was bold, decisive, like the man himself.
Catherine,
I apologise for my behaviour today. Not for defending you, I would do that again without hesitation, but for the manner in which I did it. You were right. I should not have presumed to fight your battles or make declarations without your consent.
If you're willing, I would very much like to call on you tomorrow. Not as the Duke of Ravensfield, but as the man who has thought of nothing but you for three months. The man who knows he has no right to ask for your time or attention but is asking anyway.
I understand if you refuse. I've given you little reason to trust me. But if you'll grant me the chance, I'd like to try to earn that trust. To court you as you deserve to be courted—openly, honestly, without secrets or shadows.
I remain, as always,
Your James.
P.S. - Pemberton has a strong hand. I probably deserved it.
Despite everything, Catherine found herself smiling at the postscript. It was so very James; the James she'd known that night, who could make her laugh even in the midst of intensity.
"Good news, my lady?" Martha asked.
"I don't know," Catherine said, folding the letter carefully. "I suppose I'll find out tomorrow."
