Chapter 9
Justina awoke the following morning to muted sunlight pouring in from the window and Gregory’s warm body beside hers in the bed.
He was sleeping deeply, his breathing slow and even, his face relaxed and boyishly handsome.
She smiled, resisting the urge to reach out and smooth a lock of hair from his forehead. She didn’t wish to wake him just yet. He deserved to sleep a little longer after last night’s pleasures.
Of which there had been many.
They’d made love twice yesterday, and he’d proved himself an attentive and enthusiastic lover. His inexperience had only seemed to make him more eager to please, and she couldn’t recall the last time she’d so enjoyed making love with a man.
She still couldn’t understand how he had gone so long without being with a woman. Men had needs, and in her experience, not much stood in the way of satisfying those needs. What had made him wait? And why had he chosen her to gift his first time to?
She watched him sleep, her smile affectionate as she thought of his sweet words and gentle hands, and the way he blushed when he was embarrassed. He was unlike any man she’d ever known, and she wanted to know everything that had made him who he was before they would inevitably part ways.
Her heart clenched at the thought of never seeing him again. Or, worse, meeting him in a crowded ballroom and trying to pretend they had never met, that nothing had ever happened between them.
Her eyes grew hot, her chest tight and aching, and she closed her eyes against the tumult of emotion roiling through her insides.
Dear God, what was the matter with her?
She never felt this way at the end of an affair. Never. Every lover she welcomed into her bed was well-used and appreciated, but she was never tempted to keep any of them. She always let them go without a single pang of regret.
What did it mean that she was already mourning the end of her time with Gregory?
Perhaps it meant nothing. Perhaps it was merely the effects of this unusual concoction of lust and gratitude, made all the more potent because it was new.
Whatever the reason, it had nothing to do with love. For goodness’ sake, she’d only known the duke for a few days. Of course love had nothing to do with it.
“What are you thinking about?”
Justina’s eyes popped open and she met Gregory’s sleepy gaze, a guilty flush flooding her cheeks.
“Pardon?” she asked, though she knew perfectly well what he’d said. She was buying time, trying to figure out what to say.
“I can practically hear your brain working,” he murmured, his lips tipping up in a lazy smile. “What has you looking so pensive?”
Justina would rather eat worms than admit she’d been wondering if she was falling in love with him, so she gave him a different truth instead. “I haven’t awoken with a man in my bed since my husband died,” she said. “It’s…a little strange.”
“Strange, but not bad?”
She shook her head. “No. Not bad.”
He smiled at her, soft and sweet, and Justina’s insides melted a little. She liked the way he looked at her, as if she was all he saw, all he wanted to see.
“Thank you for last night,” he murmured, reaching up to brush a lock of hair behind her ear. “I enjoyed myself immensely.”
“So did I.”
“Then would it be presumptuous of me to say I look forward to doing it again?”
His cheeks darkened a shade and she grinned, reaching out to brush her knuckles along the ridge of his cheekbone. “I’ve never known a duke who blushes. It’s sweet.”
He gave a soft snort. “It’s ridiculous. I hate it.”
“Well, I adore it,” she said. “And to answer your question: no. It would not be presumptuous. I might even consider doing it again now”—she arched a single brow—“if you are amenable, that is.”
He kissed her, long and deep, then drew back and said roughly, “I’m amenable.”
His lips found hers again, his tongue tangling with hers as his arm curved around her hip beneath the coverlet. He eased her onto her back, his kiss hot, and his hand had just covered her breast when a knock sounded at the door.
“Your breakfast, sir, as you requested,” the innkeeper’s wife called from the corridor.
Gregory broke the kiss with an anguished groan and Justina grinned, giving his arm a conciliatory pat. “I suppose we ought to be on our way soon, anyway,” she said regretfully.
“Yes, I suppose.” He did not sound entirely convinced, but he did climb out of bed and begin to dress, calling out to the innkeeper’s wife that he would be right there.
While he tugged his shirt and trousers on, Justina drew on her dressing gown, and she couldn’t help but giggle watching him rumple the bedding on the cot to make it look as if he’d slept there last night.
He really was an adorable man.
“Good morning, Mrs. Landry,” Gregory said as he let the woman inside. “Thank you for bringing our breakfast to our room. I hope it wasn’t too much trouble.”
Justina seated herself at the small table and gave the innkeeper’s wife a warm smile. The food smelled positively delicious.
“Not at all, sir,” Mrs. Landry said as she set the tea tray on the table. “I’m always happy to be of service. Do let me know if you’ll be needing anything else.”
“Thank you, we will,” Justina said as the woman headed for the door.
“One question before you go,” Gregory said. “Have there been any further inquiries about me or my sister?”
“No, sir. Not a one.”
Justina released the breath she’d been holding as relief flooded her. Thank goodness.
“Thank you, Mrs. Landry,” Gregory said. “We’ll be leaving as soon as we’ve broken our fast.”
He pressed a coin in her hand and, judging by the way her eyes widened, it must have been a generous amount.
“Very good, sir. Thank you.”
Mrs. Landry left them, and Justina and Gregory spent the next half hour eating their breakfast and preparing for another day on the road.
After assisting Justina into the carriage, Gregory spoke with the driver then joined her, sitting beside her on the bench seat.
“Is everything all right?” she asked him as the carriage wheels began to roll.
“Everything is fine. I explained the situation to John, that we’ll need to backtrack and take the longer route to Cheshire.” He gave her a regretful smile. “I’m afraid that means we’ll have to add another two days to our journey, which will mean additional nights spent at a coaching inn.”
Additional nights. The idea shouldn’t please her—they were literally hiding from a man who was chasing after her—but a part of her was pleased. Pleased and relieved. She wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Gregory, not now. Not yet.
“Additional nights in a coaching inn?” she said, feigning a frown. “Oh, dear. Whatever will we do to pass the time?”
She looked at him, letting a teasing smile curl her lips.
Gregory’s gaze dipped to her mouth and his eyes were warm when they lifted to hers again. “I suppose we could read?”
She laughed and swatted his arm before snuggling against him and resting her head on his shoulder.
“Gregory?”
“Hm?”
“How is it that you had never been with a woman before yesterday?”
He was silent for several heartbeats, and she feared she had overstepped. She had no wish to embarrass him. She was curious, but her interest wasn’t prurient.
“There were many reasons,” he finally said.
“The idea of being intimate with a stranger never appealed to me, not even as a lad. And then I met Olivia and fell in love, and I was happy to wait for our wedding night.” He lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug.
“When she ended our betrothal, I left England for a time to nurse my broken heart and for a long while, the company of other women simply did not interest me.”
Justina swallowed, hating the unmistakable weight of jealousy curdling in her gut.
It was silly, perhaps, to be jealous of the woman who had jilted Gregory, a woman who was now married to another man, but she couldn't help it.
After all, just because the woman from his past no longer wanted him did not mean he no longer wanted her.
“Do you still love her?” she asked before she could stop herself, her calm tone belying the thudding of her heart.
“No,” he said, the single, beautiful word curling around her like a warm blanket. “She was beautiful and charming, and I was infatuated with her, but time and distance have softened those feelings. I think of her with fondness now and I wish her happy.”
The last remnants of jealousy faded, replaced by admiration and wonder that this man who’d had his heart broken could think so well of the woman who’d broken it.
Drawing back to look at him, she gave his forearm a squeeze. “You’re a good man, Gregory,” she said with a soft smile. “Your future bride will be a very lucky woman.”
He returned her smile, apparently pleased by her words, but then his smile suddenly dimmed, his brow furrowing.
“Oh, dear,” Justina said. “I think I recognize that look. You’re thinking about your mother, aren’t you?”
He sighed. “My mother is—was—another reason why I delayed lying with a woman.”
Justina gaped at him. “How? Did she forbid it?”
He chuckled, though it held little mirth. “No, it was nothing like that. It has to do with my father. He…was not a good husband.”
“In what way?”
He drew in a deep breath. “He was cruel,” he said quietly. “Not physically or verbally—he never struck my mother, never berated her. He ignored her. He made his ambivalence known with his neglect and his absences and his many, many mistresses.”
Gregory looked at her, his eyes blazing with anger. “I vowed years ago that I would never treat a woman with such disrespect.”
Justina was silent for a moment as she pondered his words. Her own marriage had been a happy one, a love match, but she knew many ton marriages were not based on love, but on social advancement or monetary gain.
“Did your mother love your father? Was their marriage a love match?”
He shook his head. “It was arranged by their parents. I don’t know if she loved him, but I know she cared for him enough to be hurt by him.”
“And you’re trying to make up for his behavior by being the perfect son?”