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The Spanish Duke's Virgin Bride(59)

By:Chantelle Shaw


‘She was so convincing,’ Grace whispered as the stark reality of what she had done sank in. She had denied Javier the chance to defend himself and instead had listened to a schoolgirl who was plainly jealous of her. She had paid the price of her mistrust by losing her unborn child, and from the look in Javier’s eyes she’d also lost any chance she might have had of winning his love. The realisation was unbearable, and she turned her head away from him.

‘Grace…’

The unexpected tenderness of his tone tore her to shreds and she refused to look at him, unable to bear the contempt that she was sure she would see on his face. ‘Go away, Javier,’ she wept, hiding her face in her hands. ‘Just go away and leave me alone.’





CHAPTER TWELVE




JAVIER stood outside Grace’s bedroom door and listened to the muffled sound of her weeping. It couldn’t go on, he thought savagely. It was six weeks since he had brought her home from the hospital, and every night had been the same—him lurking in the corridor, too afraid to walk in and risk her rejection, and her sitting alone and crying.

He would do anything to see her smile again. Her unhappiness was tearing him apart, but worst of all was the knowledge that he was responsible for her tears. He should never have married her, he told himself bleakly. He should have followed his gut instinct and had her thrown out of the castle when she’d first visited him to plead her father’s case, instead of being seduced by her elusive, shy smile.

It was terrifying to realise how easily she had bewitched him. For most of his thirty-six years, he had imposed iron self-control over his emotions and had prided himself on being immune to feminine wiles. But somehow, without him being aware of it, Grace had slipped beneath his defences until she was all that mattered in his life. Letting her go would rip his heart out, he accepted grimly as he gripped the door handle. But he couldn’t keep his little grey dove caged in the castle any longer.




Grace emerged from the en-suite bathroom and stopped abruptly at the sight of Javier standing at the end of her bed. He had lost weight, she noted with a frown. His face was drawn, with deep grooves on either side of his mouth, but he was still the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen, and she felt the familiar ache around her heart.

He had treated her with such kindness these past weeks. Beneath his cool reserve she was convinced he had a warm heart, and despite the way she had treated him, mistrusted him so terribly, he had never once blamed her for the loss of their child. Perhaps he saw no need when she blamed herself.

The realisation that she was pregnant had been so new, she had barely had time to accept it before her happiness had been snatched away. She’d cried until her heart felt as though it would burst for the loss of the tiny life she had carried so briefly, but for the past few nights her tears had been of despair as she’d faced up to the reality that Javier would never love her.

He spared her a brief, searing glance as she moved towards him, before returning his attention to the photographs scattered on the bed. ‘I take it that the woman in the wheelchair is your mother,’ he said quietly as he stared at the serene smile of the woman who had blessed Grace with her gentle beauty. ‘I didn’t realise she was unable to walk.’

Grace nodded and picked up one of the photos. ‘Unfortunately Mum lost the use of her legs in the early stages of her illness. The breathing and feeding tubes came later, towards the end, but even during her worst moments she never stopped smiling,’ she told him, her voice ringing with love and pride for her mother.

‘Did you care for her at home?’

‘Yes. At first Dad and I managed on our own but later, when she was in a lot of pain, he arranged for round the clock, qualified nursing care. It was expensive, of course, as were the trips to Lourdes and other places around the world where the promises of miracle cures were all he had left to hope for. Nothing worked, of course,’ she confided sadly. ‘But he loved her so much he would have done anything to save her—including stealing from you,’ she added huskily. ‘Despite everything that’s happened, I can’t blame him. She was the love of his life, but I don’t expect you to understand.’

‘You think that because I have never experienced love I can’t recognise it and respect it in others?’ Javier demanded harshly.

She gave him a startled glance. ‘You once told me that you don’t believe in love.’

Streaks of colour briefly flared along his cheekbones. ‘Dios, I said a lot of damn stupid things—are you going to throw them all back in my face? Anyone looking at the photos of your parents couldn’t fail to see the love they shared. Your father must have been destroyed by your mother’s death. If I had listened when you first came to me, perhaps I would have understood the reasons why he acted as he did and felt sympathy, instead of exacting a bitter vengeance by forcing you to marry me.’ His face twisted and Grace could have wept at the depth of emotion in his eyes.