Page 38 of When a Duke Desires a Lass

As Tobias waited in the foyer, he half-expected Bevels to return and tell him Emily wasn’t receiving callers. He assumed her headache yet plagued her, and compassion for her suffering gripped him. She’d been so pale and fragile last night.

Frightened too, although one had to look closely to see the dread behind the pain in her tumultuous eyes.

Tobias couldn’t help but conclude the shock of Marlow-Westbrook’s question had contributed to the extremeness of her megrim.

Bevels trod down the corridor, his expression inscrutable.

“Mrs. Grenville will receive you in the drawing room, Your Grace.”

She wasn’t abed. Excellent news.

Tobias had timed his visit to coincide with Avery and Justina’s outing. He wanted to speak to Emily alone. If she was up to receiving callers, that was.

“I’ll announce myself, Bevels.”

Bevels’ grizzled eyebrows flexed the merest bit, the only hint of his disapproval.

“Very good, Your Grace.”

The butler’s tone indicated it was anything but very good.

At the drawing room entrance, Tobias permitted himself the pleasure of gazing at Emily. As she had his first visit, she stood before the window, her expression contemplative.

She must’ve sensed his presence, for she slowly turned.

The bleakness and resignation in her beautiful eyes rendered him speechless for an instant.

She was leaving.

There was no need for her to speak the words aloud.

He saw it in her eyes, felt it in his cracking heart.

Tobias’s soul howled an anguished No.

He had no doubt she’d only received him to tell him goodbye.

Bollocks to that.

He wouldn’t let her run away—wouldn’t permit that miserable wretch Grenville to take anything more from her. To steal their chance for love and happiness.

In a trice, Tobias strode across the room and gathered her into his arms.

“Mo ghrádh, my love,” he murmured into her perfumed hair.

She smelled of lemons and vanilla and Emily.

His precious, darling, selfless Emily.

Tilting her head, she opened her mouth, tears of regret shimmering in her eyes.

Putting a forefinger to the soft pillows of her lips, he shook his head.

“Nae, lass. Nae.”

Tobias kissed her forehead, marking her as his for all time.

“I shan’t let ye rob us both because of your misplaced sense of duty. Ye’ve sacrificed enough, leannan.” He closed his eyes, his words an invocation to the Almighty, a prayer and petition, as much as they were an oath to her.