For Love of the Duke(85)

Then, he rested his fingers atop Lizzie’s crown of brown curls, and gave an awkward pat.

The last tiny sliver of her unguarded heart gave way, and fell into Jasper’s hands.

Lizzie grinned around a mouthful of cake. “Bear,” she said again.



Jasper reminded himself to breathe. He counted to ten. When that proved ineffectual, he counted another ten. And another.

He dug his toes into the soles of his boots to keep from upending the girl and tearing from the dining room like a madman escaped from Bedlam. Then, isn’t that what he was? The Mad Duke.

How else could he account for the alarm roused by this small slip of a child?

The girl, Lizzie, reminded him of his loss. He closed his eyes a moment and willed Lydia’s face to the surface.

But it would not come.

He clenched and unclenched his jaw and accepted the staggering truth—Katherine had weaved her way into his every thought, and had dispelled the memories he’d held most dear.

In the course of a fortnight, he’d thrown aside his vow to remain unwed and celibate. And now, a short while after spilling his seed inside Katherine, he partook in a Christmas Eve sup.

Katherine caught his gaze and smiled. She raised a spoonful of plum pudding to her lips. Her mouth closed over the small bite. A faint remnant clung to her full, lower lip. He wanted to go over and kiss the mark away. Then the tip of her tongue darted out and captured the small dab of pudding.

Small fingers still caked with Shrewsbury cake tugged at Jasper’s jacket, recalling his attention.

“Bear?”

He swallowed and looked down at Lizzie. “Yes?”

The small child possessed the courage and boldness of her aunt, for she grinned up at him. “Sing.”

He’d rather lob off his right arm than sing before this table of strangers and his delectable wife.

Jasper shook his head. “No.”

Her lower lip quivered. “S-sing.”

Jasper glowered. “No,” he said this time with more firmness.

Tears welled in her very familiar, warm brown eyes. A sudden image filled his mind. Katherine as a small girl with the same brown curl hung over her innocent wide-eyed stare. His mind went numb with a longing for the dream Lizzie represented.

“P-please, Bear,” she said on a trembling whisper.

Oh, for the love of Christ in heaven and all his blasted saints.

“Lord Redford loved his cards,

He played them all the time,

Wagered land and all his wealth,

And lost them to Lord Grimes.”



As his slightly discordantly sung ditty ended, an uncomfortable pall fell across the table. The little girl clapped at his feeble attempt at song. In the thick blanket of discomfort, it occurred to Jasper the enormity of the song he’d just sung to little Lizzie.

Jasper’s eyes found Katherine, who sat, shoulders squared, head at an awkward angle.

My father was a wastrel. He spent his days and nights at the gaming tables, and indulging in spirits, and he squandered everything not entailed.

Bloody hell, he could not even do this right.

He shifted the bundle in his arms and made to set Lizzie down but she tugged at his arm.

“Again. Again,” she urged.

Aldora rushed over, and Jasper was never more grateful to see another person in his life. He handed off the two-foot burden to her waiting arms. “Your Grace,” she murmured, her gaze averted.

Jasper surged to his feet. He sketched a deep bow. “Good evening,” he mumbled. Taking care to avoid Katherine’s eyes, Jasper turned on his heel and left.

He only managed to make it to the end of the corridor.

Katherine’s slippered feet tapped a swift beat along the floor in her haste to reach him.

Jasper cursed and increased his pace.

“Jasper?” His name emerged slightly breathless from the quick pace she’d set for herself.

Her faint mutter carried down the long corridor and echoed off the stone walls. He forced himself to stop.

Katherine came to stop alongside him. Her eyes moved over his face. “Are you all right, Jasper?”

You’ve thrown my entire world upside down, Katherine. No, I’m not all right.

“Fine,” he said quietly. He made to leave, but she touched her fingers to his sleeve.

The delicateness of her touch reminded him of all manner of wicked things they’d done together just that morning. Once hadn’t been enough.

He swallowed hard.

It would have to be.

“Because you don’t seem all right,” she blurted. Katherine caught her lower lip between her teeth as she so often did, and again, his mind and body stirred with the memory of her mouth upon his, the satiny softness of her breasts, the delicate pink tip engorged from his ministrations.

He groaned. She would be the death of him.

“Jasper…”