Page 31 of Married to the Duke By Midnight

Robert had instantly known that he wanted to become acquainted with her. Intimately and deeply and not purely in a sexual manner. He had been attracted to dozens of women before, he had been a young man of nineteen after all, but this was different. He had known it as soon as he felt it.

Jo was nothing like Lucretia, Thornston was right about that. Nor were his feelings for Jo anything as clear as what he felt for Lucretia.

The past few days had been the most confusing he had ever experienced. When she had asked him why it was important for him to pay for her dresses, he could not give her an answer.

Or at least not voice the one that had first come to mind: He wanted to provide for Jo. Be able to give her what she needed. Both materially and in other aspects of their marriage as well. In the bedroom certainly, but also outside of it he was starting to realize. He wanted there to be a partnership between them. And it meant that he took care of her in the ways he could, like paying for her dresses. Without being questioned about it.

Robert sighed and emptied his third glass of whisky, silently holding it out for Thornston to fill it again. His friend lifted a questioning brow but acquiesced when Robert raised both of his in a silent answer.

He was uncertain whether Jo felt the same as him. Nowhere in her contract had she mentioned friendship or even the two of them liking each other. Her second list was only meant to establish enough comfort between them for her to perform her marital duties. Not for a friendship or a partnership to blossom. But it would be ideal, Robert thought, if they liked each other outside of the bedroom as well.

Perhaps it was a given to Jo. She saw the world so differently from him, as if she had a clearer lens to watch it through.

He remembered Jo’s comment about Thornston, about how difficult it must have been for him to read Robert and Xavier’s letters from home when Philomena was sick. As if his mind was grasping onto anything other than having to decipher his complicated feelings regarding Jo.

“I have never thanked you,” Robert blurted, then realized from Thornston’s puzzled look that he had offered no context. “For reading our letters from home. When Philomena was ill.”

“You are welcome,” Thornston told him coolly, which told Robert that they were close to one of the invisible boundaries his friend had created for himself.

Nevertheless, the whisky and the red wine made Robert continue.

“Jo made me realize how difficult it must have been for you. And I had never thought of it. I just… I was truly grateful that you would read our letters. And I am certain that Xavier was as well.”

Thornston looked at him with an almost pitying expression on his face.

“Yes, I am aware,” he told Robert gently. “Barforth thanked me… at the time.”

“Fuck,” Robert muttered and rubbed his forehead. “I… I’m sorry.”

“All is forgiven,” Thornston told him. “I am glad though that you realized now. Even after twelve years.”

Robert huffed mirthlessly. The room seemed to be spinning around him and he felt sick.

“Riddles, are you quite right?” Thornston asked concerned and placed his hand on Robert’s arm.

“No,” Robert groaned.

“You should lie down,” Thornston urged him.

Robert nodded, which only made the room spin faster. He kept hold of the arms of the chair as if it was the bulwark and the floor a ship in a stormy sea.

“I can’t,” Robert said in a thick voice. “Jo…”

“I will go to her,” Thornston told him.

15

“Duchess, I have not seen your husband. Where is he? Has he arrived yet?”

Jo smiled placatingly at Lady Clopton. The lady was not the first to ask, nor was she wrong to. Where the devil was Robert?

He had sent a note that he would meet her at the Cloptons’ soiree. But Jo had been there for two hours now. Alone. Smiling and smiling and smiling until her cheeks hurt. While she searched frantically for Robert and offered the same platitudes over and over again.

She did not know most of the people there. Lady Clopton had introduced her to a few in the beginning, then had another of her guests walk Jo around and introduce her to the rest. Jo had looked at the door every few minutes, expecting to see Robert there, even though the butler had not announced him.

“Something must have kept him. I know he had a meeting about the final session in the House of Lords,” Jo told her hostess as she fought the urge to wring her hands.

Perhaps something had happened, she suddenly realized. Could he have been in an accident on the way there?