Page 105 of When a Duke Loves a Woman
“Quite well actually.”
“Collinsworth has hired men to search for you.”
Another sad smile. “I doubt they will ever think to look where I am.”
“Will you not tell me?”
She shook her head, sighed. “So now you will marry another?”
He chuckled low, darkly. “Indeed. As a matter of fact, I’ve been looking over the candidates. Perhaps you’d like to help me choose your replacement.”
“Choose someone with whom you cannot live without, for if you do not, you will discover that you cannot live at all.”
Chapter 26
She was relatively confident the door had been opened a hundred times that day, that night, so she wasn’t certain why she was drawn to the present opening of it, what had prompted her to glance over when she hadn’t before. Perhaps it was because she’d always been able to sense the force of him when he strode in. He stopped just inside the doorway, removed his hat, and studied her as she stood behind the bar, holding his gaze, not looking away.
He was devilishly handsome in a dark blue jacket, gray waistcoat, and pristine white shirt and cravat with the tiniest pin holding it in place. It was just so damned good to see him. She’d missed him so much. But she had to give nothing away, nothing at all. She’d not burden him with things that couldn’t be changed.
Finally, he strode across the room until he was standing in front of her. “Hello, princess.”
“Thorne.” Why did her breath choose that moment to leave her? “You look well.”
“Looks can be deceiving. I’m actually quite miserable. Lavinia came to see me. I think she is even more miserable than I.”
“So will the two of you become betrothed again?”
“No. I decided I didn’t quite like the legacy my ancestors had left to me of not marrying for love.”
Without taking her gaze from him, she reached for the stool, drew it against her backside and sat because it wouldn’t do if her knees suddenly turned to jam. His Guinness eyes revealed so much, too much, everything he’d ever felt for her, everything he ever would.
“I love you, Gillie. I was daft enough not to know that’s what I felt for you because I’ve never loved or known love before you. I think of you every minute of every hour—convinced it’s only lust and desire. But I’m not always thinking about kissing you or touching you. I see things I want to share with you: a rare blossom, a phrase in a book I’m reading, an article in the newspaper. I hear things—the song of a bird, a lecture, an interesting bit of conversation—and I want you there experiencing them with me. I have had a dozen ladies brought before me and watched as they walk, so straight, so proper, that I can almost see the invisible book balancing on their heads. So calm, so reserved, so deuced boring. Almost absent of life. And I thought I can’t, I can’t marry any of them, not when I yearn to be with another, not when the only joy I’ve ever known isn’t standing beside me. Slowly, little by little, you captured my heart, made it yours. It will never belong to anyone else. Marry me, Gillie.”
She would not be marrying only a man, she would be marrying a duke, someone with responsibilities to England. She had caught a glimpse of his life, of the history that had led to his being who he was. It was overwhelming and so much grander than her small piece of London. She would overhear ladies discussing her and men would make advances toward her. Slowly, she shook her head.
“I know you worry about your tavern, losing it to your husband, but we can place it in a trust before we marry so it remains yours.”
Once that had been her worry, but no more. She trusted him with her tavern. “It’s not that. It’s that I don’t fancy your world.”
“Then we’ll live in yours. We’ll find a small residence somewhere nearby. You won’t have to live at Coventry House.”
“You are a duke. You belong there. You have responsibilities—”
“I can still see to them. I won’t give up my responsibilities or my duties, but my life can be here with you, if you’ll have me.” Placing his hands on the counter, he vaulted over it until he was standing beside her. In her surprise, she shoved back the stool until she was again standing. “Gillie, I—”
His gaze lowered to the slight roundness in her belly. It wasn’t much but he was familiar with every inch of her, and she knew he could tell her body had changed. Slowly he lifted his gaze to hers, and she could see the hurt and disappointment reflected in his dark eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because your life was elsewhere and at some point you were destined to marry another.”
“Ah, Gillie.”
“I’m keeping it. I’m selling the tavern because once people know, they’ll shun me.” And that would be by the end of the night because people were standing around listening. “But I have money saved—”
“You’re not selling the tavern.” He cradled her cheek. “Do you love me?”
Why did this man so often make her eyes sting? “With all my heart.”
“Then marry me.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “You told me how scared you were before you opened the tavern and I know you’re scared now, scared you’ll fail, but, Gillie, I swear to you that I would not ask you to become my duchess if I did not think you’d be the finest one England has ever known.”
