Page 38 of The Duke of My Desire

“Mother, what are you doing here?” Gregory demanded, ignoring her questions in lieu of his own. “How did you find me?”

“I am a duchess,” she said airily, as if that explained everything. “And I’m here to bring you home, of course. I’ve been worried about you and this unknown woman who lured you away from London so suddenly.”

Gregory barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. God, he was not in the mood for this. “She didn’t lure me anywhere, Mother. She was in need of an escort and I volunteered. I explained all of this in my note.”

She waved a hand dismissively. “Your note explained nothing. Who is this woman, and what is she to you? Where are you going and why are you escorting her there?”

Gregory smothered a sigh. He wanted nothing more than to be alone with his thoughts, but he knew it was an impossible hope now that his mother had found him. She would not leave him be until she had answers.

Taking her by the elbow, he steered her towards the door. “Come, let’s go inside and I’ll answer your questions there.”

Once they were safely ensconced in a private parlor, seated across from each other at a small table, the dowager duchess leveled her son with an imperious stare. “Speak, Gregory,” she said after she’d removed her hat and set it aside. “I demand answers. Who is this woman and what is she to you?”

“Her name is Lady Justina Dunne. I came upon her being accosted on the street and I intervened.”

The memory of Lovelace’s hands on Justina still affected him, but he was careful to keep his emotions from showing.

“Lady Justina Dunne...” His mother pursed her lips. “She is the Baron Dunne’s widow, no?”

His heart clenched. “She is.”

The duchess gave a disapproving hum. “I do not think you should be associating with widows, Gregory, even if your reasons are perfectly innocent. One might be tempted to draw the wrong conclusion.”

“And what conclusion might that be?” he asked irritably. He knew very well what she meant, and he didn’t like it.

“Oh, you know, that you are…involved with her.” She wrinkled her nose. “Intimately.”

His involvement with Justina could not have been more intimate, but he had no bloody intention of sharing that with his mother. Or anyone else, for that matter. “Who I am involved with is nobody’s business but my own.”

“Nonsense,” she shot back with a wave of one gloved hand. “You are a duke. People look to you to set an example.”

Gregory leaned his elbows on the table, his jaw working. “I never asked for that.”

“No, you didn’t. But that is the way of things, Gregory.”

“Perhaps I’ve decided I no longer care about the way of things.”

“Nonsense,” she said again. “You must care. You have our family name to think of, not to mention the future of the title. A duke does not have the luxury of not caring.”

Gregory worked his jaw again, frustration pulling his muscles taut, even as he knew what she said was true, no matter how much he might wish it wasn’t, or say he didn’t care.

He was the Duke of Paxton, and his life was not entirely his own, and never would be. But that didn’t mean he had no say in it. He could do his duty and still be happy, surely. He had to believe that was true. And if he wanted to be happy, he had to fight for it. Starting now.

“Mother, I am not going to marry Jane Withers.”

She sighed. “Gregory⁠—”

He held up a hand. “Please. Let me speak. I know my duty. I know I must marry and sire an heir, and I am prepared to do that. But it will be with a woman of my choosing, not yours.”

“But—”

“No.” He interrupted her again, his voice firm. “This is not up for discussion. I love you, but I can’t live my life to please you. You need to let me make my own choices. If you can’t do that, I will have to limit my time with you. Do you understand?”

His heart was thudding and he had a knot in his stomach, but he held firm and waited for her reply as the tense silence stretched.

“All I want is for you to be happy, Gregory,” she said stiffly. “That is all I’ve ever wanted.”

“I know, Mother.”