“Yes, Lady Julia Castle. I love you.”
She closed her eyes, breathing in his masculine scent. Perfect. A sense of peace settled over her as she opened her eyes and stared up at him. “I am in love with you, Your Grace.”
“I know,” he said.
She slapped his arm playfully. “You are the most arrogant man I have ever met.”
“Come with me.” He again tugged her away from the guests and down the stairs and onto the lawn. Only when they were out of sight of the balcony did he stop and turn toward her. “Julia.” He dropped to his knee, something in his hand. “Would you do me the honor of becoming my love and duchess?”
She covered her mouth with both hands—breathless and overwhelmed with love. “Yes,” she cried.
He stood and presented her with the perfect ring: two, pear-shaped stones, a sapphire and diamond set in gold. She held out her hand, and he slipped the delicate ring down her finger.
“It is a perfect fit, Your Grace.” She gazed at it, mesmerized by its meaning and beauty.
“The ring belonged to my mother,” he said. “She would have wanted you to have it.”
“But how did you know to bring it to the house party?”
“I didn’t. I sent my valet back to London to get it for me.”
“Thank you, Alonzo. I will cherish it forever. I will cherish you forever.” She threw her arms about him, holding on for dear life.
“What have we here?” A feminine voice stole their moment of happiness.
Alonzo swept Julia behind him and faced her. “What do you want, Madeline?”
“I want you to acknowledge the truth about why I am here.”
“Haven’t I already done that? You came here to make my life miserable, to force me to marry you.”
Anger boiled up inside of Julia. She wanted to confront this woman and tell her where she could go. Alonzo belonged to her now, but she held her tongue. Her betrothed wanted to handle Miss Hershey.
“I thought marriage would save the both of us from further scandal.”
“What are you talking about, woman? No one cares about what we were to each other years ago.”
Julia moved to stand beside him.
“They will care about this.” She offered him a silver locket.
Alonzo snatched it from her fingers and opened it. Julia gazed at the miniature of a tiny boy’s face with the bluest eyes and dark, curly hair.
“What is this, Madeline?”
“Do you not know, Your Grace? Can you not see the resemblance? You have a son—Devon.”
The news punched Julia in the chest and stole her breath. She could forgive Alonzo for anything from his past. But how could she stand in the way of an innocent child having his father, a chance at being a family? To be sure of what Miss Hershey claimed, she took a closer look, a critical look at the likeness of her child. Pain exploded in her head. There was no denying it, the boy looked like his father.
“Julia.” The duke took her by the arms and turned her to face him. “She cannot be trusted.”
Julia reached up and placed her fingers on his lips to silence him. “I do not blame you, Alonzo. You didn’t know.” She swung about and glared at Madeline. “You are no better than a shark—a predator set on destroying his life and mine.” She turned back to her duke. “You must do the right thing, Your Grace. Give the boy your name, protect him from this cruel world—from being called a bastard every day to his face—marry Miss Hershey and try to be happy.”
Without another word, she embraced the man of her dreams, the man she would have dedicated her life to, lifted his hands to her mouth, tenderly kissing each one, then released him.
“Julia!”
No, she couldn’t look back, wouldn’t, for her sake and his. She ran, not back to the house, but as far away from it as she could get—to Whitmore, her own home and sanctuary.
