“The circumstances?”
He caught her hand and drew her close, pressing his mouth hard to hers. She wound her arms around his neck and melted against him. It was habit now, something she didn’t even think of. He touched her, she was his.
“That if you touch me again, I don’t think we’ll make it downstairs to meet my friends,” he growled against her lips. He gently turned her and then swatted her behind. “Now go before I change my mind.”
She laughed as she left him, but after she’d gone into the adjoining room and closed the door behind herself, she leaned back against it with a sigh. The connection she felt to this man was growing with every second she spent with him.
And she knew full well that she needed to sever it. Sooner rather than later if she wanted to maintain her sanity and her heart.
Lucas shifted as he stood at the window in his study, staring out at the gardens behind the estate. The tick of the clock on the mantel sounded like a shotgun blast in his ears every time it counted another second. One more tick closer to the moment when his friends would be here.
And he’d have to face everything he’d done to push them so far away.
Suddenly he felt Diana’s hand slide into his own. He turned to find her staring up at him, understanding on her face. Empathy. God, but he wanted to lean into that. To take everything she offered until he could refill the emptiness inside of himself.
Only he didn’t think he was capable of giving her anything in return. A fact that grew harder to take with every passing day he spent with her. He was using her. Using her to heal. Using her to find peace. Using her to investigate his case.
And her assistance was unearthing more and more questions he knew could possibly break her heart. He didn’t want to do that.
“Don’t be nervous,” she whispered, and that calming tone seeped into him and reduced his anxiety.
There was a knock on the door, and he tensed as he turned to find Jones there, as expected. “The Duke and Duchess of Crestwood and the Duke of Tyndale are awaiting you in the purple parlor, as requested, Your Grace.”
He nodded acknowledgment. “We will join them momentarily, Jones. There is no need for you to announce us.”
The butler’s lips pinched, but he bobbed out his own nod. “Certainly. There should be tea and biscuits being delivered there as we speak.”
He left then, and Lucas managed to draw a full breath before he smiled down at Diana. “Here we go.”
She slid her hand into the crook of his arm and let him guide her from the room. They walked down the hallway together, and there was a part of him that felt like he was being led to the gallows. Why, he could not say. He loved all three of the people in that room waiting for him.
But he had not shown his love very well. And despite Simon’s kind letter, he still feared what he would find when he opened the door to his mother’s hideous purple parlor.
They reached that door, and as he extended a hand, Diana squeezed his arm. “Don’t expect the worst.”
He nodded, but couldn’t stop himself from doing just that as he pushed the door open. His breath caught as he entered the parlor.
Simon, Duke of Crestwood, and Matthew, Duke of Tyndale, stood together by his fire, examining one of his mother’s horrible little miniature horse statues that she loved so well. Meg was at the sideboard, pouring tea. They looked…the same. And so different. He could see all the time that had passed since he last let himself near them.
It had only been a moment. And it had been years.
“Great God, he’s here in the flesh,” Simon said as he turned from the fireplace and made a straight line right to Lucas. Diana released him and Lucas found himself yanked into a strong embrace from one of his best friends. Simon pounded him on the back as he whispered, “You have been more missed than you could ever realize.”
Lucas’s knees almost went weak at that statement, and at the realization of how missed his friends had been too. He’d tried to pretend that wasn’t true. That he could manage on his own,deservedto be on his own, but now he felt the lie of it.
Simon drew back and Matthew reached out to shake Lucas’s hand. He felt Matthew’s careful gaze searching his face and finding the pain he tried to hide. Matthew had experienced so much of his own that there was no doubt he knew it when he saw it. “You look a fright.”
Lucas couldn’t help but laugh at the greeting, one the group had always reserved for each other when they’d been apart for more than a few weeks.
Meg had stood by while the men made their greetings, but now she stepped up and took both his hands. Lucas smiled at her, for he saw so much of her brother James, the leader of their group, in her. He also saw the unmistakable swell of her belly now that she faced him, and his gaze shot to Simon. He beamed and nodded slightly.
“Don’t listen to them,” she said with a laugh as she bussed his cheek. “Oh my, it is so good to see you. You don’t know how difficult it was not to have an entire gaggle of dukes come raining down on your home when the group heard of your return. Simon insisted we not overwhelm you all at once.”
Lucas couldn’t help but picture that, all his friends here, like no time had passed. Like nothing had changed, even though half of them were married now and none of them knew the truth about him.
He shook off the thought and stepped back to take Diana’s arm. “May I present my…my friend, Diana Oakford. Diana, the Duke of Tyndale and the Duke and Duchess of Crestwood.”
His friends all turned to her, and he felt her stiffen a fraction at their regard. He couldn’t blame her. There was no doubt what they would assume she was…and quite correctly.
