Page 4 of The Duke of My Desire

If she wished to drive around London all night long, then that was what they would do.

“Thank you,” she murmured a moment later, her voice low and somber. “For coming to my rescue tonight.”

Gregory gave a single nod. “Think nothing of it. I was happy to help.”

Her expression turned rueful. “But I cannot keep you here forever. I’ll have to leave your carriage eventually.”

She didn’t say it, but he could hear it in her voice, the worry over where she would go and what she should do next.

“Shall I have my driver take us to my lodgings?” he asked.

Her brows rose a notch, and he realized belatedly how such an offer might be misinterpreted.

“I thought you might like a cup of tea,” he said hastily, embarrassment rushing his words. “And from there we can discuss where you wish to go.”

Still she eyed him, less wary now but certainly not trusting, not that he could blame her. She knew nothing about him, except that he was a man, and after what happened tonight, he wouldn’t blame her for never trusting a man again.

After a long moment of silent consideration, she finally gave a brisk nod. “Very well. Yes.”

Gregory gave her a reassuring smile as he reached up to rap on the carriage roof.

His mother was right, he couldn’t save everyone.

But knowing it never stopped him from trying.

CHAPTER 2

Justina stared out the carriage window, seeing nothing as her mind swarmed, hands fidgeting with the folds of her cloak, her fingers unsteady and numb with the cold.

Dash it all, how could she have been so stupid?

She prided herself on her ability to choose her men wisely, but this time her intuition had failed her. Miserably.

When Nigel, Viscount Lovelace, had approached her last month to initiate a dalliance, she’d been impressed by his confidence, his pleasing manner and easy way with words. That he was tall, dark and handsome had only made it easier to accept his offer. She never imagined he would want more than she was willing to give, or that he would try to claim her, as if she were an object to be owned, an object he could acquire simply because he felt entitled to it.

Justina gave only so much to the men she invited into her bed. She gave her body and took theirs in return, and that was where it ended. If the tupping was enjoyable, she might permit that single dalliance to become a brief affair, but only rarely and never for longer than a few weeks’ time.

She’d only been a widow these last three years, but she’d learned rather a lot about men in that time, and one thing she’d learned was that they were too often led by their cocks. Simply put, the more pleasured the cock, the less reasoned the mind.

That was certainly the case with Nigel.

She’d told him at the beginning that their affair would be brief and that once it was over, it would not be repeated.

Two weeks and four enjoyable tups later, he had decided to ignore her conditions and make her his mistress. She’d explained calmly yet firmly that she was not interested in such an arrangement, but he’d refused to take no for an answer, and now here she was, stealing away to safety in a strange man’s carriage.

A man she’d only just met.

A man who was taking her to his private lodgings.

Lord above. Trusting a stranger was hardly wise, but then, what choice did she have? She couldn’t go home. Not yet. Not when Nigel knew where she lived. She hadn’t thought him a violent man, but he’d put his hands on her tonight, and they had left marks, marks that would bruise. Truth be told, she had no idea what he was capable of, or what he might do, but she knew she had to stay away from him, at least for now, until he came to his senses.

If he came to his senses.

She sighed. Life could be deuced annoying sometimes.

“We’re nearly there,” the duke announced, and when she looked at him, he smiled, gently, as if trying to convey that she was safe with him, that he meant her no harm.

She wanted to believe that he was a nice man. He had a nice smile, easy and warm, a smile that reached his eyes and crinkled the corners. He was young, close to her own five-and-twenty years, and handsome in an understated way with a broad forehead, firm jaw and thick dark hair that curled around his ears.