Divinia’s sneer could frighten blood from a stone. “I offer him everything he deserves, and nothing he would be ashamed of.”
Unlike me....
The truth slammed into her, exploding the breath from her lungs.
Her mouth worked soundlessly. Unable to form words in her own defense, she stood in shocked silence as Divinia Kroger smirked at her in evil glee, dismissed her with a turn, and walked away.
Chapter Fifty-Five
Once the carriage stopped outside the Manor, Haven nearly flew from it in a rush to be alone. Unable to sit still on the journey back from Hughgate, she replayed her conversation, or rather bitch fight, with Divinia in her head.
“You aren’t right for him, not worthy of him....”
Was she worthy of anyone?
Her mother, her stepfather, her own husband?
Sorrow pierced her heart and lungs, leaving her breathless and chilled to the bone.
Pulling the pins from her hair in frustrated movements, she sobbed as the memories flooded over her, replaying Divinia’s words in her mind.
“I offer him everything he deserves, and nothing he would be ashamed of.”
As she poured poison over Haven’s heart, Divinia’s perfect smile was ice, her eyes glistening with hatred and calculation.
“Goddammit,” she ground out, pacing from one end of the rug to the other. “Why does she have to be right? Why did Perez bring me here, why did I have to meet Logan, why did he have to be everything I wanted?” Her voice caught on a sob. “Why did have to be a duke?”
She stopped in her tracks, buried her face in her hands, and fought back a well of tears. Logan was a broken man, one whose past shaped him into the man she knew. A man she could love. Something between them was doing everything in its power to defy them, bringing them together in hot sex and moments of life-altering vulnerability. No doubt Perez, and the bitch goddess Ahmi, were pushing all the right buttons, but she refused to believe all she’d experienced and felt for Logan was the product of unearthly meddling.
Sighing, she began pacing again, her footfalls a strangely calming rhythm.
Yes, she could love and maybe even build a life with Logan the man, but he was also a duke. She wasn’t dumb or naïve. Even though people in the Regency romance novels married for love, those things didn’t happen in real life. He didn’t love her, anyway. Dukes married women with class, with generations of blue blood, and the money and country manors that went with it. Dukes married women who could glide on air, who tinkled when they laughed, and didn’t blurt out curse words when playing chess. Dukes like Logan married women who could...elevate his standing in society, bring him power, connections, and a legacy....
Again Divinia’s words rang true. Haven couldn’t offer him what adukeneeded.
But she could offer themanher heart.
“So what,” she snapped. “I’m not going to marry him. We’re only having a little bit ofamazingsex before I go home. No promises made, no words of love spoken. No souls mating. No hearts breaking....”
The words sounded hallow and unconvincing.
She had to leave, take the watch and her meager belongings, and hit the road. She had no idea where she’d go, or what she’d do once she got there, but she couldn’t stay in the manorany longer or she’d fall so hard she’d never put the pieces back together once their affair ended—and itwouldend. Once he found his duchess, she’d be nothing more than a piece of ass sitting around, waiting for a ducal booty call.
She couldn’t do it.
She was better than someone’s mistress, even Logan’s. She didn’t have what it took to be a duchess, but she deserved her own happy ending. She deserved a life of blessings, and laughter, and love. Once she left, her heart would remain at Caspire Manor, but she could build a life elsewhere. At least until she found a way back to 2025.
She hadn’t given up on getting home yet, so why was she pondering the possibility of making a life and a living in 1817? Why did the very idea of leaving Logan and going home stab at her like a knitting needle straight through her temple?
She pinched her eyes closed against the image.
She shook her head and sighed.
No, she had to leave. He couldn’t be with her. As much as she wanted,desperately, for him to share her love, to seek to be with her above all else, she knew it wouldn’t happen. As a duke, he had a legacy on his shoulders, and she was a divorced stripper with a potty mouth and a gym bag filled with shiny, useless, not-yet-invented toys.
Suddenly, hope thrilled through her.
Her toys!
