Sins of a Duke(51)

She nodded. “I will see him in the gardens outside. If my parents return before he leaves, please inform them of our whereabouts.” She would not see him at all in private, and she had intended to take a turn in the gardens to collect some flowers for the drawing room.

“I understand, my lady.”

With a calm she had not expected, she went upstairs and collected her shawl. Within a few minutes, she was in the gardens walking toward the stone bench on which he sat. Gravel crunched beneath her feet and Lucan stood to face her. She had missed him. Today he was dressed in a gray suit, his hair once again caught in a queue. He adjusted his spectacles on his nose—a nervous gesture she was learning to identify.

“Your Grace,” she intoned formally with a slight curtsy. “To what do I owe your unexpected visit?”

His eyes roamed over her almost hungrily, before resting on her face. “Are you well?” he asked quietly.

“I am, thank you.”

“I was made aware of the publication in the papers only this morning. I had been away on business and returned to town today.”

Relief surged through her. He was not so uncaring after all.

A smile lifted her lips. “I see. And you hastened to visit me because?” she prompted, her heart beating a bit faster.

He hesitated. “If you want to marry it will be done.”

She stiffened. “Are you proposing?”

He winced. “No. But it was pointed out to me that marriage is the only option for you. I agree.”

She stared at him in outrage. “So you agree I need to marry, but not to you?”

“Yes.”

She wondered if she spoke with the same man who had danced with her beneath the stars that had kissed her, that had made her feel so much. “And who do you suppose I should marry? I do not see a bevy of suitors calling on me.”

“Make a list of anyone you desire. Whether it be an earl or a duke or a baron. He will marry you.”

Constance glared at him. He really wanted her to marry someone else. He could relinquish her so easily? “That is not possible. I am ruined.” By my own foolish desire for you, her heart screamed, but she refused to show him any emotions. She would die before she gave him an inkling of knowledge of how much his disinterest was hurting her.

“I will make it so.”

“How?” she whispered harshly. “My brother is the Duke of Calydon, and I can assure you he cannot simply tell me to pick a name from society.”

“Your brother doesn’t own anyone.”

She stared at him appalled. Own anyone? Good heavens. “Such a gesture on your part is unnecessary.”

“If not for my attentions you would have not been in such a situation. You were not seen, but a misguided friend revealed the information that you were at Decadence hoping to force my hand. I will do all in my power to make reparations. If there is anything you want, and it is in my power, I will get it for you. You only have to say the words. And I pray that you will see this as a token of how deeply regretful I am.”

She nodded mutely, her heart a painful cadence inside of her chest. “Thank you. Do you really care about my happiness, Lucan?”

“Nothing is more important to me. Whatever you want, whatever you need, if it is within my power you will have it, Constance.”

Hope curled inside of her, yet she hesitated.

“What do you want, Constance?”

She braced herself. “You.”

Constance never imagined he would be so surprised at her declaration. Everything about him seemed frozen. Before she lost her nerves she expounded. “I will be your duchess.”

He went so unemotionally distant he shook her calm facade. But she would not plead with him.

“No,” he growled.

She nodded. “Then I bid you good-bye, Your Grace.”

She walked away from him with quiet calm. She would not wed someone she did not love. If he would not have her, she would travel with Anthony and Phillipa and see some of the world. She would not commit to a life of unhappiness to please society or even her mother, who had traveled a similar path that had led them to near ruination. Constance would not repeat her mother’s mistake.

Her heart lurched as hands gently encircled her waist from behind. She had not heard him move at all. She tensed. “Why are you touching me?”

He released her as if he had been stung, and she slowly turned to face him, curious to what she would see. Oh, Lucan. Emotions roiled in his eyes, and she saw the flash of fear before he buried it. She waited for him to speak, without any expectations in her heart.

…

Lucan felt a horrible sense of inevitability pressed in on him. “I will not marry you,” he reiterated softly.

“You have already said so,” Constance pointed out, her demeanor one of calm and indifference.