Dukes By the Dozen

And now he was being perfect to keep her. She flinched at the painful realization.

“What do you want?” she asked through numb lips. “More than anything?”

His eyes met hers, deep brown and sincere. “A family.”

Julia could almost hear the crack as her heart broke for him, for the family he’d lost and the family she had been fighting to keep from him.

His hands tightened on hers. “Please give me a chance, Julia.”

A log settled in the hearth, and something deep within the glowing center popped and hissed. William tensed.

“You’re afraid of fire, aren’t you?” she asked.

He lifted a brow.

“I saw you hesitate,” she explained. “At the brandy bowl.”

“And you saved me,” he said apologetically.

“You were the one who saved me. Even though I was surrounded in the one thing you feared most. Why?”

He pulled his hands free from hers and cupped her face in his palms. “Because I love you, Julia. I’ve loved you since the day I asked Lady Bursbury for an introduction and she got it in her head to play matchmaker. I saw how your eyes lingered on me at the first ball we attended together, and I couldn’t get you out of my mind. It’s why I asked to court you immediately, why I married you so quickly.” His thumb brushed her cheek. “I love you enough to let you go, if that is truly what you wish.” He pressed a kiss to her brow and settled his forehead against hers. “But it is not what I want.”

“William.” His name emerged from her tight throat in a catch.

He pressed his thumb to her mouth, sealing it. “Don’t say anything, please. I just want you to understand what you mean to me.”

With that, he got to his feet.

Julia snapped her head up. “Where are you going?”

“To let Lady Bursbury know you are well. She’s terribly worried.” He swept a hand over Julia’s hair in an affectionate caress. “And to allow you time to think over what I’ve said.”

But she didn’t have to think. She already knew. This man who had faced his fears to save her, who had lost everything and sought only to gain back the wholeness of his heart, she had to give him a chance. She had to give herself a chance.

He paused at the door. “To be fair, I do not count this as your prize. If you would like to claim another, I will offer no complaints.” Then he was gone.

She couldn’t help the smile on her lips any more than she could dim the lightness in her soul. For she knew her fears about William were unfounded.

That was not all she had reconciled within her soul. She was finally ready to admit what she had felt the first time those warm brown eyes met hers. It had fueled her suspicion and put a visceral edge to her fear, and now she finally understood why: she loved her husband.

She always had.

WILLIAM HAD SPENT most of his life behind a shield, steeling himself and his heart from rejection. However, the baring of his deepest hurt and greatest wish to Julia did not leave him as achingly vulnerable as he had anticipated. No, he felt comforted, the rocky bed of his childhood finally smoothed.

She knew now what he wanted, and why he wanted it. He only hoped it would be enough to change her mind. Not that he would ever stop trying if it didn’t.

Lady Bursbury had been exceedingly grateful he had informed her Julia’s burn was minor and she would recover easily. He’d never seen Lady Bursbury in such a nervous state, and she’d continued to apologize profusely, despite it not being any real fault of hers.

As he approached the chamber to return to Julia, the door to his right opened and Lady Venerton stepped out. She caught his gaze and her eyes widened. “Your Grace,” she gasped.

Quickly, she shut her door and swept toward him.

William stiffened and resisted the very rude urge to take a step away from her. The odor of brandy hovered around her like a fog.

“I wanted to talk to you,” she said in a breathy whisper.

William exhaled to avoid being victim to her pungent breath. Good God, had the woman drank a full decanter on her own?

“Lady Venerton, my wife has been injured, if you’ll recall—”

“That is what I wanted to talk to you about.” Lady Venerton pushed her shoulders back so her small breasts were shoved high on her chest. She lowered her head in a way she must have intended to be seductive, except it made her look as fully foxed as she smelled, eyes half-mast and mouth slack. “She doesn’t deserve you. I know men like you. Strong, healthy, virile. You need—”

“This is highly inappropriate.” William turned from the woman.

She grabbed his arm, her grip strong. Before he could realize what the countess was doing, she threw her body against him. William flew back against the wall at the unexpected press of weight and knocked a vase from the table. It crashed to the floor, and Lady Venerton’s mouth pressed wetly against his.

A soft cry came from somewhere behind Lady Venerton.

“William.”

He recognized that voice. Oh God, he recognized that voice.

Julia.

CHAPTER 9

JULIA COULDN’T THINK. She could only run. Away from the scene, away from the hurt. Away from the husband who had betrayed her.