Free Love Me True by Heather Boyd

brought about this union. It’s very likely I’m condemning you to spending all your nights entertaining my son.”
    Clarry hurried to smooth the comforter in place. “That is a husbands right, isn’t it?”
    The duchess crossed the room and captured her arm. “Never, ever, let me hear you say that again out loud. You have every right to refuse Justin. You must make a place for yourself at his side, not three steps behind as if you were his servant to be used and discarded when you lost your figure. Did your mother’s flight from the district and your father’s temper not teach you anything?”
    What she thought of her mother was hardly an opinion Clarry expected the duchess to appreciate. She’d thought obeying the duchess’s son would be one of the strictures. Should she mention she thought her mother lucky to have gone? Clarry licked her lips. “I hardly remember her.”
    The duchess pursed her lips, and then they stretched into a knowing smile. “I think you remember more than you let on. Very well, meet me in the green salon directly after you’ve broken your fast. Perhaps you’ll do after all.”
    The duchess chuckled and swept from the chamber, leaving Clarry more confused than ever.

CHAPTER EIGHT

    Damn it. Where the hell was she? Justin had scoured the Hall from top to bottom and had failed to find his future bride. Had she absconded as her father claimed she might or had his mother removed her without warning? Mother had taken no pains to hide her disapproval of the match. Would she go as far as send Clarry away while his back was turned? He hoped not because as far as he was concerned, Clarry was already his wife. The ceremony—a necessary formality.
    He paced Clarry’s chamber, noting her possessions still remained strewn around the room. Her tortoiseshell hairbrush and combs remained exactly where she’d dropped them. He picked one up and turned it over in his hands, then tugged out loose strands of her hair from the bristles.
    He missed her.
    What a total idiot he’d become. They’d been apart merely a half day and he longed to see her happy still. Acting the part of a love-sick swain came easily to him. After all, he’d loved Clarry for years, even if she’d ignored him. Justin set the comb aside carefully and forced himself to sit and wait. But patience had never been his strong suit.
    Restless, he adjusted the cushions, until his hand bumped something solid. He pulled out a book and sat it on his lap. But the stunning sight of it took his breath away. This was his book. Lightning strike him —his journal. The one he’d lost months ago and searched for in every place imaginable.
    How on earth had it come into Clarry’s possession?
    The doorknob turned and Justin shoved the book beneath the pillow again.
    “Oh, Lord Justin, I wasn’t expecting you. Did you want something?”
    Nervously, Justin stood up and faced his future wife. His tongue thickened in his throat. What did she think of his poetry? Every word penned into that book had been written about her and he wondered if she knew he was the author. Did she recognize herself in those pages? “I, ah, just wanted, to, ah, see if you were well.”
    She frowned at him and set her bonnet on a table. “Perfectly well. I’ve just been to call on Lady Ramsbury with your aunt and mother.”
    Justin scowled. “You saw my brother?”
    “No.” Did her voice tremble? “Just the viscountess. Your mother and aunt insisted I pay a social call with them. They are beside themselves about the baby. I hadn’t heard a whisper that your sister-in-law was with child.”
      Justin watched Clarry to see how she felt about the news. In all honesty, he couldn’t gauge her reaction. “We learned of it the day he proposed.”
    Clarry sighed and settled into the space he’d just vacated. “A month ago.”
    The words were spoken in such a hollow tone that Justin winced for her pain. He stared down at the top of her head and wondered what she was