Page 75 of The Duke of Deceit

The irony of that was not lost on her. She couldn’t marry the man who loved her because of lies and secrets, yet here she was, contemplating her own fresh lie to the people she loved.

“I was distraught yesterday over Amanda’s return and our argument.” So far, not a lie. “And I needed to be away from the house for a little while.” Not technically a lie. “So I spent the night at Mary Beecham’s house.” Andthatwould set her hair on fire.

Oh, she gave up! With an anguished cry, she pressed her palms against her eyes. In less than twenty-four hours, everything she thought she knew and wanted had been turned on end. Her world had changed forever. The man she loved also loved her and had proved it by making such tender love to her that she’d been certain she’d flown away to heaven in his arms, only to come crashing back to the hard earth when he proposed.

Lucien, Duke of Crewe, had proposed! Moreover, hewantedto marry her, not because he felt obligated. For one precious moment, she had let herself believe such a future could be possible.

Then her dream became a nightmare.

The jarvey pounded his fist against the roof of the hackney, and Jess jerked up her head with a gasp. They’d arrived in front of the townhouse. She was home.

Numbly, she climbed down from the compartment. Lucien had insisted on paying the driver when he hired the carriage in Ealing. Thank God, because she didn’t think she had the strength left inside her to linger even a moment more on the footpath for fear of breaking down. So she tucked her head to let her bonnet cover her red, patchy cheeks and nose and hurried to the house. She didn’t knock, didn’t wait for the butler—the door had been left unlocked, and she sent up a prayer of thanks to whichever saint cared enough about her now that she could slip unnoticed upstairs.

She opened her bedroom door and froze. Aunt Matilda sat on her bed, waiting for her to return.

Wordlessly, Auntie held open her arms.

A grief-stricken cry left Jess’s lips, and the last of her remaining strength vanished. She collapsed onto the bed next to Matilda and fell into her motherly arms, but for the first time all morning, tears refused to fall. Most likely, she’d already used them all up.

“You were gone all night,” Matilda said quietly as she hugged Jess to her. “I was so very worried.”

“I’m sorry.” About so many things!

“Are you all right?” she asked gently.

“No.” She squeezed shut her tear-roughened eyes against the burning behind her eyelids and somehow managed to force out, “I spent the night with Lucien.”

“I know.”

She lifted her head, but despite not having enough tears left, her vision blurred as she stared at her aunt. No surprise showed in Auntie’s expression. “How did you know?”

“Where else would you have gone after your sister returned like that?”

Oh, she had it all wrong! “Lucien isn’t the father of Amanda’s baby.”

Her eyes softened as she untied Jess’s straw bonnet and removed it, tossing it aside to the foot of the bed. “I know that, too.” She rested her check against the top of Jess’s head, as she’d done since Jess was a little girl. “I am not feeble-minded, you know. I know a lot more than you and your sister give me credit for.”

Auntie unbuttoned her pelisse, then slowly pulled it down her arms and off. Yesterday’s dress revealed itself, complete with well-worn wrinkles. Thankfully, Matilda made no comment about it.

“Your sister would never have been naïve enough to let herself be seduced by a man like Crewe,” Auntie mumbled. “She would only have given her body to the same man who had given her his heart, and that was not Crewe. Never would have been. She simply isn’t his sort, and he isn’t hers. But you…you charged after him like a vengeful wraith, and that was something he simply could not ignore. I knew the moment I saw the two of you at the Hawthorne ball, with you staring daggers at him forthe rest of the evening and him pretending not to notice, that a storm was brewing. I did everything I could to prevent it.” She paused. “But then I realized it was inevitable. The two of you were simply too drawn to each other to ignore it.” She cupped Jess’s face between her hands so she couldn’t look away. Or lie. “You fell in love with him, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” The word was a breathless, hoarse confession, and she squeezed her eyes shut against the pain burning in her chest.

“And he fell in love with you.” Before Jess could confirm that, Matilda continued, “But of course, he did. You’re nothing like any other woman in his world, and I’m certain you shook him to his core. Oh, certainly, he knows how to make young misses flee in fear, but he simply had no idea what to do with one who didn’t. You challenged him, and he enjoyed it.” She pushed herself away from the bed to cross to the wash stand and poured fresh water into the basin from the pitcher. “But you both knew he would never marry you.”

“He wants to,” Jess whispered. Despite the desolation pounding inside her, her foolish hope clung to a last tendril of pleasure and pride at knowing that. “He asked me to marry him.”

Matilda froze, her back toward Jess. “And you said…?”

“No.”

Auntie’s shoulders slumped in mutual sadness. “Is there any chance you might change your mind?”

The single word fell from her lips, no louder than a breath—“No.”

Matilda remained silent as she dunked a cloth in the water and wrung it out. She carried it back to Jess so she could clean her face. The coolness of the wet cloth soothed her hot cheeks, so did Auntie’s compassion and understanding. Jess wasn’t certain she deserved either.

“Amanda is planning on leaving by the week’s end to return to Ireland,” Matilda told her as she hung up the pelisse on the wall hook by the door. “I suggest we don’t tell her what happened between you and His Grace. She already has a lot on her mind. There’s no need to worry her further.”