Geek Girls Don't Date Dukes (37 page)

hands, wondering how to make sense of this.

“I must apologize to you, dearest.” The settee sank as

Lady Chesterfield settled herself beside Leah.

“For what?” She didn’t look up from her teacup.

Little rings of tea spread out from the tear that fell into

her cup.

Lady Chesterfield laid a warm hand on Leah’s back.

“I did not consider many things in the way I assisted

you. I assumed that you were as other young ladies of

my acquaintance are— in search of a husband of rank and

means. But I was quite wrong.”

Leah’s glance wandered upward. “No, you were

doing what you thought was right. And I didn’t want to

hurt your feelings, so I just went along with it. I should

have told you that I had feelings for Avery before I even

got here.” Her voice fell to a whisper. “I’m sorry.”

Plucking the teacup from Leah’s hands, Lady

Chesterfield gathered her into her arms again. “There

is no need for it. In the end, my dear, all I have ever

wanted was to be a part of your success. The tale of your

friend Miss Marten sparked my imagination as nothing

has since I dreamed of fairy tales in my youth.”

“You’ve been amazing, Lady Chesterfield.”

As Leah hugged her patroness, she closed her eyes.

Nothing had gone the way she’d thought it had, but she

had been really lucky to find such a generous and kind

friend. She just hadn’t wanted to move in with her. She’d

sort have thought she would bring her true love home

with her.

The fresh memory of Avery’s rejection wrenched a

sob from her.

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“My lady?” Muriel appeared in the doorway. “You

and Miss Ram have visitors.”

“We are not receiving,” Lady Chesterfield said calmly

as she patted Leah’s back.

“But it’s His Grace, the Duke of Granville, and a

servant. A male servant, miss. And he said something

about the mirror.”

Leah’s heart leapt. “Does he have light brown hair tied

in a ponytail? And hazel eyes and scars on his knuckles?”

Muriel’s head had only dipped in half a nod before

Leah was running into the entryway. Completely

ignoring the duke, she ground to a halt the moment

she saw Avery holding a large object wrapped in

brown cloth.

“Avery,” she whispered, the words seeming to

emanate from her bruised heart. “You came.”

He set the object on the entryway table, slowly and

carefully. The duke and Lady Chesterfield withdrew to

the sitting room.

Leah fisted her hands at her sides to keep herself

steady. She wanted nothing more than to throw herself

at him and bury her face in his broad chest, but consid-

ering the way they’d parted last, she wasn’t sure she’d be

welcomed. And another rejection from him might just

break her beyond repair.

But then he turned, though his face was bruised and

battered, and opened his arms to her.

With a glad cry, she ran to him. She clung to him as

though they were adrift at sea and he was the only thing

that kept her from sinking. It wasn’t really that far from

the truth.

“Leah, my angel, Leah,” he said in a rough voice

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between kisses that he dropped on her hair. “I am here,

I am sorry, I love you.”

“I love you too, Avery.” She turned her face up to

him and accepted his kiss eagerly. For a moment, her

hellish reality slipped away in the wonderful feeling

of his body pressed firmly against hers, his lips and

mouth possessing her, his arms holding her tightly. She

tangled her fingers in his hair and kissed him with all the

desperate passion she felt.

All too soon, he raised his head.

“I must speak with you,” he said seriously, though he

never stopped touching her. “It is important.”

“If you’re here to tell me about the mirror, I know.

It’s broken. Ella came to tell me that Pawpaw is really

sick, and when we tried to get back, it was gone.”

Darkness returned to blanket her, though it wasn’t nearly

as dark as it had been before with Avery beside her. But

even the presence of her true love didn’t change the fact

that her grandfather lay on his deathbed and she couldn’t

go to him. She pressed her cheek against Avery’s chest,

taking comfort in the firm beat of his heart.

“Yes, it was broken, when Prachett…” He trailed

off. Leah looked at him darkly but let it pass. “But Mrs.

Comstock and I have done our best, and we’ve managed

to piece some of it back together.”

The words rumbled through her, and she raised

incredulous eyes to his face. “What?”

He pointed to the flat object on the table. “I gathered

up as much as I could and took it to her. It is not a large

portion, but it should be sufficient for you to pass through.”

“Ella too?” Leah pulled back enough to gesture toward

her friend, who stood beside a silent, staring Muriel.

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Avery nodded in greeting. “That should be manageable.”

Relief sapped her, and she nearly fell backward,

grabbing Avery’s muscled arm in just enough time

to prevent it. “Oh, thank goodness. You’re coming

too, right?”

Hope and bitter disappointment crossed his expression

right after one another. He looked downward, avoiding

her gaze. “I cannot.”

Her fingers curled into his shirt. She wanted to yell,

to throw a fucking fit. It was either that or cry, and she

was so tired of being soggy. “Why not?”

“Muriel, come in here with me, okay?” Ella’s voice

barely registered in Leah’s mind, as did the soft click of a

closing door behind them.

Avery tossed a glance toward a pointedly staring

Graves. “Is there not somewhere we can be more private?”

Leah took his hand and led him up the stairs, ignoring

the huff of disapproval from Graves. Damn it, if this was

the last time she saw her Avery, she was going to make

the most of it.

She led him into her bedroom and closed the door. In

the soft, comfortable room, he appeared even rougher,

wilder, more masculine. His clothes were rumpled, his

cheeks had stubble, and his eyes were dark and wild. He

was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, she patted the space

next to her. “Sit with me. Tell me the whole story—

what happened when you left me, how the mirror broke,

and why you can’t go with me.”

His smile was dark, but he sat beside her. He took her

hand and spoke softly.

“I owe you an apology, Leah. I saw the duke embrace

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you, and I let myself believe that you would choose his

rank and wealth over anything you felt for me.”

“It’s okay,” she said, laying her head against his

bicep. “I’ve done stupid shit too, and I can’t blame you

for getting the wrong idea. What made you change

your mind?”

His fingers burned a trail along her throat. “I could

not allow anyone to harm you without retribution.”

Avery sighed and lifted her chin. “I must tell you that I

am responsible for your abduction.”

She gasped. “What?”

“A man named Thomas Prachett. Many years ago,

I accepted a loan from him. I needed the money to

secure a place to live for Aunt Millie. In return, he

demanded that I cheat in the mills.” Avery looked

away, as if the words were distasteful to him. “When he

decided he had need of me again, he used you to ensure

my cooperation.”

Everything clicked into place in Leah’s head. “I

thought I heard Mackenzie, the stable master, while I was

being held in the cabin. Was he one of Prachett’s goons?”

Avery nodded.

She paused, enjoying the small circles Avery drew

along her collarbone. “If I ever meet Mr. Prachett, I’m

going to kick his nuts into his throat.”

Avery’s fingers paused. “You will not meet him. He

is dead.”

Leah drew back in horror. “You didn’t kill him? Oh

God, tell me you didn’t. He might have been a bastard,

but I don’t want his blood on your hands.”

Avery’s quick head shake reassured her. “No, I did

not. I did thrash the blighter, but he drew a dueling

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pistol. I ducked and the shot hit the bureau’s mirror. His

Grace came to my aid, and his shot killed the man.”

Somewhat relieved, Leah settled her head against him

again. “Good. It was defense then, not murder.” She laid

a hand across his broad, muscled thigh. “But if you and

Mrs. Comstock fixed part of the mirror, why can’t you

come with me? I’m sure they’ll be looking for someone

to blame for Prachett’s death, so it’d be best if you got

out of here, right?”

He gathered her close to his chest, whispering into

her hair. “It is not my choice to remain here, love. But

the mirror is not large enough for me to pass through.”

Leah’s heart dropped through the floor. “You’re

kidding.”

He held her tighter as she fought the tears. “I am

sorry, Leah, more sorry than you know. But it is for the

best. My aunt is worsening, and I cannot allow her to

languish without care. You belong there, and I…” His

voice dropped out. He cleared his throat as her tears

soaked the cotton of his shirt. “I must remain here.”

She wanted to scream, to curse the fates for being so

damned cruel. She’d been through so much to find him,

and now he was being ripped from her forever?

“I’ll stay with you.” She rose on her knees, cupping

his face with both hands. “I’ll stay here with you and

we’ll be together.”

“I may well be hanged for murder. I have no money,

no home, nothing to care for you— ”

“I don’t care!” She pounded his chests with her fists.

“I don’t have anything if I don’t have you! Don’t you

fucking get it? I love you!”

He took her lips in a desperate kiss, and she clung to

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him tightly, their mutual sorrow burning into passion. This

would be the last time they’d be together, and she clung

to each second as if she could burn it into her memory.

After all, those memories would have to last her

a lifetime.

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Thirty- One

Avery sensed his own desperate need to possess her

in her own passionate caresses. He knew what she was

feeling because it was the same searing pain that beat in

his own chest.

His anger at their impossible position would do no

good. His need to rail at God would gain him nothing.

But he could give her his love, himself, to carry with her

on her journey.

And he would.

He covered her body with his own, their mouths

meeting and parting, delving deep and nipping lightly.

Her hands roamed his body, playing along his broad

shoulders, down the arms that held him suspended above

her. Pulling his shirt upward, she arched her back.

“Please, Avery,” she pressed a kiss to his throat. “We

don’t have much time.”

Her words were no less true than they were painful.

Rising on his knees, he pulled his shirt over his head. Her

fingers fumbled on his breeches.

“Let me, my love.”

She nodded, eyes darkening as he removed the last

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barrier and released his erection. He knelt beside her,

hand delving beneath her skirts as her own soft fingers

wrapped around his length.

“You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen,” she

said as he lifted her skirt to reveal her soft, white thighs.

“I love to touch you.”

His hand trailed across the dark blonde hair that

crested her most secret flesh. “There cannot be a woman

as lovely as you are to me.” He looked into her eyes, and

his next words came without his forethought. “I would

love nothing more than to have you as my wife.”

Tears sprang into the corners of her eyes, and she

shook her head vehemently. “Stop talking. Come here

and love me.”

She held her arms out to him, and he covered her

body with his own. His tongue explored her mouth as

his hands explored her body, loosening the buttons of her

gown to release her breasts from their confinement. She

gasped as his hand covered her pebbled nipple through

the thin barrier of her shift.

“Avery, please,” she begged as she wrapped her

thighs around his hips. “I don’t want to wait. I want