Free For Love of the Duke (The Heart of a Duke Book 2) by Christi Caldwell Page A

Katherine and her future didn’t matter to him. Jasper’s future included no one and that was far safer than worrying after the fate of one young lady.
    His friend sat forward in his seat. “Oh, and what is that?”
    “The lady does not matter,” he lied. She did. Whether Jasper wished it or not. Perhaps it was the bond of pulling her flailing body from the river, and thumping water from her lungs until she breathed once more. Then his interest in her future could be explained. It should not matter the tinkling bell-like quality of her laughter, or the impish smile…his fascination with such attributes could be less easily explained.
    Guilford finished his brandy, and set his empty glass down upon the edge of Jasper’s desk. “You’d live your life where no one matters, Bainbridge. You’d go through life, cold, unfeeling, untouched. That,” He shook his head. “Well, that is a sad way to live.”
    Jasper surged to his feet. “What would you have me do?”
    “I’d have you rejoin the living,” Guilford replied automatically. He stood and met Jasper’s stare. “I do not know if there is any real interest on your part in the Lady Katherine. I don’t know if there is any young lady who could ever recapture your heart after Lydia’s death. But I would that you try and at least find happiness where you can.”
    Jasper waited for the familiar sensation, that sensation of being kicked in the gut whenever he heard his wife’s name mentioned.
    It didn’t come.
    Which in itself sucked the breath from his lungs. He gripped the edge of his desk.
    Guilford glanced down, and said nothing for a long while. They stood locked in a silent, unspoken battle. His friend broke the silence. He gestured to the surface of Jasper’s desk. “I do know a gentleman does not pen notes to, how did you phrase it? Ladies that do not matter?”
    Jasper opened his mouth to reply, but could not force words out.
    Guilford bowed his head. “If you’ll excuse me.” He started for the door.
    The hiss and pop of the blazing fire in the hearth filled the quiet. “I don’t want your help, Guilford,” Jasper barked after him.
    His friend turned back to face him with a smile. “Fortunate for you, I don’t care, Bainbridge.” He closed the door behind him with a firm click.
    Jasper stared at the door, long after Guilford had taken his leave. He reclaimed his seat, and stared blankly down at the note he’d penned. Guilford was his last remaining friend in the world, but oh, how he loathed the other man, just then. How dare Guilford force him to come London, and what’s more, force him to confront what, until this very moment, he’d denied—he, Jasper Waincourt, 8 th Duke of Bainbridge was—lonely.
    Jasper blinked down at the letter he’d written to Katherine. Guilford was correct. Gentlemen did not pen notes to ladies that did not matter.
    He picked up the thick ivory velum and crushed it in his hands.

 
     
     
    ~8~
     
    THERE was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,
    The earth, and every common sight,
    To me did seem
    Apparell'd in celestial light,
    The glory and the freshness of a dream.
    It is not now as it hath been of yore;—
    Turn wheresoe'er I may,
    By night or day,
    The things which I have seen I now can see no more.
     
    The words roused thoughts of the Duke of Bainbridge, as she considered the reality that they were not so very different after all. Life had altered them both in very profound ways.
    A knock sounded at the door. She glanced up.
    The butler cleared his throat. “You have a letter, my lady.”
    Her mother and sister’s gazes swung to Katherine.
    Anne set aside her embroidery frame and edged closer to Ollie. She craned her neck in an apparent attempt to identify the wax seal upon the missive.
    With a frown, the servant pulled the silver tray bearing the missive closer.
    Katherine’s heart warmed at his silent defense of her personal privacy.
    Mother returned her attention to the embroidery frame stitched