expression that crossed her face. ‘I do not recall. I am certain the thought of becoming a duchess in one of the most prominent families in England was pleasing. But I honestly do not recall being eager for anything in my life. I find such strong emotion rather base and vulgar.’
‘Were you happy being married to him?’
She shifted again on the chair. ‘I do not understand why you are interested in such things. People in our position do not concern themelves with happiness. We strive for contentment, and I was content being married to your father.’
Julian rubbed his chest, relieving some of the tightness that was gripping his ribcage. He glanced at the portrait of his father, visible beyond his mother’s right shoulder. Had he ever heard his father laugh? Was that what being married to the wrong woman did?
He shook his head as he buried those questions in his subconscious. ‘Was there something else you wanted to see me about?’
She took a breath and appeared relieved at the change in subject. ‘Actually, there was. I heard from Lady Jersey that Finchley is reconsidering his vote. I thought that might be of interest to you.’
‘I appreciate you taking the time to inform me. I shall speak with him tomorrow.’
‘I understand he has been known to dine at White’s.’
Julian wished that he could tell if she was interested in his affairs because she truly wanted to help him, or because she wanted another accomplishment of his to place in the family annals. It would have been nice to believe she did it out of a fondness for him.
‘Thank you, Mother.’
She turned away. ‘I am glad I could be of assistance.’ When she’d reached the doorway, she turned back to him. ‘I trust you to make the right decision. I will say no more about Lady Mary and defer to you.’
He watched her turn into the hallway before he sat back in his chair. Staring once again at the portrait of his father, he studied the pair of solemn green eyes that looked back at him. Since he was young, Julian had looked upon the life his father had led as a blueprint of the way a duke conducted himself. Once he’d died Julian had clung to the actions that had defined his father. There was no guidebook that came with becoming a duke. One went by example.
Had his father ever regretted marrying his mother? Had he been he content living with a woman who showed no affection and would rather jump into a pond than have an intimate conversation? Would he ever have admitted it to his son?
This was the life he was destined to lead. His mother had said that people in their position didn’t concern themselves with happiness. Looking upon his father’s solemn portrait, he was certain the man would have agreed. It was time that Julian stopped holding out hope for what could never be.
But then his thoughts turned to a pair of fine blue eyes. Simply thinking about Miss Vandenberg made him smile. She amused him, exasperated him, and excited him. She deserved an apology for his actions. He only hoped that this time when he saw her, he would be able to control his desire.
The next afternoon rain fell in sheets and thunder shook Katrina’s house while she wrote letters home to her family and friends. Her concentration was broken when Wilkins presented her with the unexpected sight of Lyonsdale’s card. A fluttering feeling settled low in her abdomen as she rose from her writing table and brushed out the wrinkles of her blue and yellow muslin gown. She needed to compose herself before he entered the drawing room.
‘Good day, Your Grace,’ she said, dropping into a curtsy. ‘My father is not at home, but at the Chancery. I can relay a message to him if you wish.’
The sight of him in her home was making her babble.
‘Actually, Miss Vandenberg, I came to call on you.’
Certainly she had misheard what he’d said. She glanced at Meg, who wasn’t doing anything to hide her surprise at seeing the Duke of Lyonsdale in the cosy drawing room. When Katrina finally caught her maid’s eye she gestured for her to return to her seat and continue mending.
Awkwardly Lyonsdale cleared his throat. He appeared to be waiting for something—her manners and proper etiquette, probably. He had her so flustered she couldn’t even recall proper protocol.
Walking to the settee and the chairs by the fireplace, she gracefully lowered herself into one of the chairs. ‘Would you care to sit?’
‘Thank you, I would.’ A faint smile softened his features as he sat across from her, looking very masculine on the delicate settee.
When he accepted her offer of tea, she nodded her request to Wilkins. Her butler eyed Lyonsdale, before giving her a crisp nod and leaving the room without closing the door.
She turned her attention back to her guest. ‘I’m surprised you have ventured out on such a dreary day. I must confess I’ve not heard many carriages go by all morning.’
He shifted restlessly on the settee. ‘I had some important matters to attend to. While the roads are a bit treacherous, they are passable.’
The unlit fireplace seemed to hold his interest. When he looked back at her, the tension was palpable.
‘I needed to see you to offer you my apology.’ The words came out stilted, as if he hadn’t said them often. He should have apologised for ignoring her weeks ago.
‘Why are you offering me your apology?’
He leaned closer and they both stole a glance at Meg. Thankfully her maid appeared occupied with her mending. He licked his lips and Katrina almost slid off her chair, remembering the brief feel of those lips brushing against hers.
‘I need to apologise for what occurred in my library,’ he whispered.
There were many things this man could apologise for, and he was choosing to apologise for their almost kiss?
She was mortified that she had believed him to be as attracted to her as she was to him. It would be horrid to hear him admit he hadn’t intended to kiss her. Dear God, maybe she was the one who had moved her lips up to his!
‘Let us not speak of it again,’ she whispered back.
His brow wrinkled. ‘I fear I have offended you, and that was not my intention.’
‘You have not.’
‘Are you certain?’
This was torture. Did he have to go on? ‘I assure you there is no need to speak of it.’
He lowered his chin and licked his lips again. ‘Miss Vandenberg, I feel a need to be frank.’
‘Please do not.’ Could not the floor open up and swallow her, just this once?
He kept his voice low. ‘I did not wish to insult you, but you stir something inside me.’ A pained look crossed his face.
The breath she was holding was released with a whoosh, and she held her stomach to steady the butterflies inside.
