Chapter 12
Justina watched as Gregory’s mother left the room and shut the door behind her, the click somehow both quiet and loud, seeming to reverberate through the heavy silence.
She swallowed, nervous now that they were alone, although it was exactly what she’d asked for. She had no idea what she intended to say to him, but she couldn’t leave things the way they’d ended. Not after all that had happened today. Not with the way she felt about him.
She turned to look at him, intending to speak, but he beat her to it.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly. His mouth was grim, his eyes troubled.
Justina shook her head, confused. “Whatever for?”
“For leaving you alone. For allowing Lovelace to get near you. I shouldn’t have left you. I—” He went to her, taking her hands in his, and she could feel his anguish in the trembling of his fingers. “God, Justina, you might have been hurt.”
“But I wasn’t,” she said, giving his hands a squeeze, reminding him that she was here, with him, touching him. “I am well, Gregory. I am safe.”
He nodded, his throat working, and Justina longed to embrace him, to feel his arms around her, strong and comforting.
But he made no move to hold her. And why should he? He’d told her he loved her, asked her to marry him, and she’d rejected him without explanation.
She owed him that, at least. An explanation. The trouble was, she wasn’t sure even she understood her feelings.
All she knew was that she wasn’t ready to say goodbye to him. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
And that revelation was both wonderful and terrifying.
Heart pounding, she drew in a calming breath, and said, “Will you sit with me?”
He nodded, and she led him to the fireplace where a fire still burned, warm and welcome. Gregory waited for her to sit before claiming the other chair, and they sat there for a few moments in the silence before Justina cleared her throat.
“It’s been an interesting day, hasn’t it?” she said, a rueful smile curving her lips.
He huffed out a laugh. “It certainly has.”
“First Lord Lovelace and then your mother. I’m not certain which encounter was more frightening,” she said, only half-joking.
“I was rather annoyed with Mother for following me here,” Gregory said, “but if she hadn’t, I don’t know what would have happened.”
The words sent a shiver up Justina’s spine as she remembered the cold press of the knife, the unsettling gleam in Lovelace’s eyes. God, she had come so close to losing everything.
“We were lucky today,” she said, her words thick with emotion. “Your mother…” She swallowed hard. “She…asked me about us. About why I turned down your proposal of marriage.”
Gregory looked at her, his expression unreadable, though his dark eyes were full of somber intensity. “And what did you tell her?”
“I...” She couldn’t speak, her throat tight with emotion, her mind confused, her heart full—of regret and uncertainty and love, both old and new.
“Justina? What is it?”
Her pulse pounded in her ears, and she surged to her feet and faced the fire, suddenly too restless to sit. “I—I’m afraid.”
It was the truth, overly simple but no less sincere.
Gregory stood and took her by the arms, gently turning her to face him, and Justina leaned into him, taking strength from his touch and the tenderness in his eyes.
“What are you afraid of, sweetheart?”
“You,” she whispered. “Of loving you. Of losing you. I’m afraid that if I give you my heart, I will have to let Phillip go and I can’t do that, Gregory. I can’t let him go, not entirely. Not even for you.”
“Oh, Justina...” He cupped her face with his hands, his thumbs sweeping across her cheeks to catch her falling tears.
“I would never ask you to let Phillip go. He is a part of you. Loving him made you the woman you are, the woman I love, and I don’t want you to eject him from your heart.
I would be more than happy to share it with him. ”
She was crying freely now, and Gregory pulled her to him, holding her close, her tears soaking his coat.
“Marry me,” he whispered into her hair.
“I want to,” she said. “I do, but...”
“But what?”
She drew back and looked up at him, fear clutching her heart. “What if loving you means losing you? What if you’re taken from me? I can’t go through that again, Gregory. It would break me.”
Her voice cracked and she hugged him again, burrowing her face in his chest as fresh tears flowed from her eyes.
“I can’t promise to live forever,” he said softly as he rubbed her back. “I wish I could. But I can promise to love you and honor you until I take my final breath. You will have to decide if that is enough.”
She drew back to look at him, to look into his eyes, his words burrowing into her heart. She cupped his cheek. “I do love you, Gregory.”
“Then say you’ll marry me. Say you’ll be my wife.”
Justina took a deep breath and thought of Phillip, of what he meant to her, what she’d meant to him.
He would want her to be happy, she knew.
He would want her to know love again, to marry and have children, so long as it was with a good man.
Gregory was a good man. And she wanted to marry him, have his children, grow old with him. Love him.
“Where did you come from?” she murmured, tracing his cheekbones with her thumbs as she took in his sweet smile and warm brown eyes. “How did you find me?”
His smile widened. “Does that mean you’ll marry me?”
Rising up on her toes, she kissed him deeply, tenderly, and when she drew back she beamed up at him. “Yes. I would be honored to marry you.”
His arms closed around her and his mouth captured hers again, his kiss filled with so much need and love and joy that Justina started to cry again. But this time they were happy tears.
Was she scared? Oh, yes.
Indeed, she was terrified. But the thought of going back to her life before Gregory, to a life without Gregory in it, terrified her even more.
And now that she had him, she would never, ever let him go.
The weight Gregory had been carrying the last few hours had lifted the moment Justina accepted his proposal.
He’d been prepared to give her more time to consider his offer—days, months even—knowing she might never say yes. But here he was now, with her in his arms, and she was to be his wife.
He could scarcely believe it.
Only a few days ago, he hadn’t even known this gorgeous, incredible woman and now she was his. His Justina. His duchess. His everything.
“I want you,” he said raggedly against her lips before drawing back. He gazed into her eyes, so green, so luminous, and in them he saw everything he’d ever hoped to see—desire, happiness, love. All for him.
“I love you, Justina.” He kissed her jaw, her cheek, her nose. “I think I’ve loved you from the moment we met. I know I’ll love you for the rest of my days.”
“Gregory,” she breathed, her eyes glistening. “I never thought I would again, but I do love you. I love you dearly.”
She brushed her lips against his and he deepened the kiss, sweeping his tongue in to tangle with hers, needing to taste her, to brand her as his.
He wanted the world to know she belonged to him, and that he belonged to her, from this day forward. He wanted to bring her pleasure and joy, today, tomorrow, every day of her life, and make every hardship, every heartache, a distant memory.
A knock sounded at the door and a moment later his mother appeared in the doorframe, her expression regretful. “The magistrate has arrived,” she said. “He awaits us in the guest parlor.”
Gregory nodded then took Justina by the hand and smiled down at her. “Mother, Justina has agreed to be my wife.”
The dowager duchess arched her brows. “Oh?”
“I love your son, Your Grace,” Justina said. “Very, very much.”
The two women looked at one another for a long moment, as if sharing a private conversation, one Gregory didn’t quite understand.
“Well, I am very pleased to hear that,” his mother said briskly. “You have chosen well for yourself, Gregory, even if she was not my original choice.”
Gregory shook his head, fighting not to roll his eyes. Even now, his mother could not help but offer her opinion, which, by the by, no one had asked for. But he supposed that would never change.
“Thank you, Your Grace,” Justina said, obviously trying not to laugh.
“Take care of him,” the duchess ordered. “It shan’t be easy for me to hand my son over to your care, but I trust he will be in capable hands.”
Justina grinned. “He will, indeed.”
Heat flooded Gregory’s cheeks and he cleared his throat. “Yes, well, we mustn’t keep the magistrate waiting.”
He ushered the ladies to the door, and they spent the next forty-five minutes ensconced in the guest parlor with the magistrate, going over the events of the morning.
When they had finished, Lovelace was escorted from the room, his hands bound in front of him, his expression worried, as if he’d only just realized what his actions had wrought.
They wouldn’t need to worry about Lovelace any longer. He would go to prison for what he’d done and would remain there for a good long while. Gregory would make sure of it.
Still, it would take a long while before the image of the brute’s knife at Justina’s throat would cease to haunt him, but he knew every day with her by his side would help to erase it all.
He would do everything in his power to ensure that Justina felt safe and loved every day of their life together.
“Well, I’m glad that’s finished,” the dowager duchess said as she rose from her chair. “Now, I think I could do with a cup of tea.”
Justina nodded. “So could I, Your Grace. There’s a lovely little back garden with tables and chairs. Shall we have our tea out there?”
“An excellent idea, Lady Dunne. I’ll arrange it with the innkeeper’s wife.”
After his mother had left the room and he was alone with his wife-to-be, Gregory pulled her to her feet and wrapped his arms around her waist, tugging her to him.
“Thank you for being so sweet to my mother,” he said. “She isn’t always easy to know.”
Justina shrugged. “I think I like her.”
“I’m glad. She likes you.”
She gave him a winsome grin. “Was there ever any doubt?”
“None whatsoever.” He kissed her cheek. “You’re wonderful.”
“Then it’s lucky for you I’ve agreed to be your wife.”
Gregory sobered and looked at her tenderly. “You don’t have to tell me that.”
He kissed her, long and deep, showing her how happy she’d made him, and how grateful he was that she was his.
He was relieved his mother approved of his decision to marry Justina.
Her opinion wasn’t all that mattered to him, but it did matter, and there was no denying that her approval would make life easier for them all.
“I can’t wait to marry you,” Justina whispered a moment later, looking up at him with so much love in her eyes it took Gregory’s breath away.
“The feeling is entirely mutual.” He kissed her again then drew back. “Shall we return to London today or go on to your sister’s house? You are no longer in danger, but I would like to meet your family.”
“And I want you to meet them,” she said, “but it’s been rather a trying day. Perhaps we should stay here another night and leave for Cheshire tomorrow?”
She slipped her hands under the lapels of his coat and pressed a lingering kiss to his lips that left no doubt as to where her thoughts had strayed.
“Let’s leave tomorrow,” he said gruffly, his hands slipping down to cup her delectable bottom. “Or perhaps the day after that.”
Justina grinned up at him. “Whatever my darling duke desires.”