Page 10

I missed you? Every day. Every hour. Every second.

Had she missed him, too?

How long would she be in London?

Yes, that would do.

“Are you in Town for long? Most people escape to the country this time of year.” He used to go down to Colechester regularly, but since Theadosia and Jessica had married, he didn’t make the trip as often. There wasn’t a reason to anymore.

Not that he wasn’t always welcome in either one of their homes. Or Althea’s, for that matter. The truth was, he struggled in the company of such happiness, knowing he’d never experience the same. Of course, James was glad for them. His three sisters had all endured varying degrees of difficulty before wedding, but in the end, they’d married the men they loved.

The woman he’d adored had married someone else—a bow-legged, bald-as-a-cue-ball, snaggle-toothed decrepit smelling of camphor and stale pomade, and crippled by bunions and carbuncles, too. Fine, that last bit he’d made up. The rest wasn’t so very far off, however.

Though James had never actually met the former duke, a few questions in the right ears had painted a fairly accurate depiction. He’d also learned that although Heartwaite had long-since bid his youth behind, he was regarded as a decent chap.

That brought him a degree of relief, for although she’d crushed his spirit, he’d not have Regine unhappy or abused by her husband.

She busied herself, retying the ribbons of her bonnet. “We’ve only been here for ten days. I’ve let a house in Grosvenor Square. Juliet has some vision issues and is seeing a specialist.”

“Nothing serious, I hope?” he said perfunctorily while collecting his coat.

She shook her head. “No, but she’s not keen on wearing her spectacles. Without them, the poor dear can scarce see a foot in front of her. I’ve promised her we might visit several of the attractions and landmarks, even though it’s the dead of winter. She’s been rather bored in the country since our sisters married, and there was our mourning period, of course. I’m hoping her curiosity will help her forget she’s wearing spectacles and make her less self-conscious.”

He shrugged into his caped greatcoat, then gathered his hat and gloves. “Allow me to escort you to your coach.”

“That’s not necessary. Truly.” Her cupid’s bow mouth arced, but no joy lit her eyes. “I don’t wish to inconvenience you further, especially if you have somewhere you need to be.” They reached the door, and she stepped aside to permit him to open it.

Such a natural expectation for a peeress. Did she even realize she’d done so?

Eight years ago, she’d have pressed the handle herself and dragged him out the doorway by the hand. Where had that exuberant, buoyant girl gone?

God. How he’d missed her.

This serene—too poised and composed—woman lacked the spark, the vitality her younger self could barely restrain. Oh, there was no denying she was stunning. Exquisite in her radiant crimson ensemble, the color a perfect complement to her alabaster skin and ebony hair.

But where had she hidden the real Regine? Or, was this who’d she’d become? Had wealth and riches and position turned her into this dignified shadow of her former self?

Once on the pavement, he lightly took her elbow. A frisson jolted up his arm at the contact. Well, that hadn’t changed a jot. One touch, and lust burrowed through his veins, almost making him forget her perfidy. For surely, desire was all this sensation was. After the way she’d discarded him like a holey sock, he couldn’t retain any feelings for her.

They received several curious glances, many quite brazen, as they strolled along. The wind had gathered momentum and tugged furiously at their garments. James was no admirer of London’s tempestuous winter weather. Someday, he hoped to travel and spend the winter months in more temperate locales.

“Just there.” Regine jutted her softly rounded chin to a polished ebony coach. The Heartwaite crest, painted in silver and crimson, glinted brightly on the door. A few heartbeats later, they stood outside the conveyance.

The driver had lowered the steps and stood a respectful distance away.

As Regine turned to climb into the conveyance, James touched her elbow. “Regine, wait.” He’d never get used to addressing her as Your Grace. She was now, and would forever be Regine.

Fool. Stop. She’ll break your heart again. Turn and walk away and don’t look back.

She looked up at him, those wide eyes soft and inquisitive. “Yes?”

“Perhaps you and your sister would like to visit Bullock’s Museum of Natural Curiosities tomorrow?” Bloody hell. He sounded like a smitten swain eager for his lady’s attention. “Or if that’s not enough notice, perhaps the next day?”

She cut the driver a short glance before facing James fully. “You’d escort us to the museum?” Her guileless gaze searched his, uncertainty and yearning in hers. “Don’t you have to be at your offices?”

He rubbed his nose and chuckled, delighted when she also grinned. “That’s the advantage of being a partner. I can take an afternoon off if I wish to.”

And I wish to. Very much, in fact.