A Duke in Time (The Widow Rules #1) - Janna MacGregor Page 0,46
House of Lords to ensure it was legal. You have nothing to fear.”
Christian rubbed the center of his chest. Throughout the war, he’d felt nothing. He’d felt no need to share his life with another. He hadn’t missed the feel of a woman curled around his body. His regiment had kept him busy every hour of the night and day. One didn’t have the luxury to think of family betrayals, or life, or even women, outside of the next day. But now that he was back in London and back home, he could think of nothing else—particularly Katherine.
Christian returned to his seat. “I want to do more with my life than be a duke who tends to his estates, produces an heir, then waits to die. I want to help the men in my regiment find work and a meaningful life now that they’ve returned to England. I’ve helped some, but there are so many more that need assistance. They put their lives on the line for our country and me. I want to see they’re paid back for all they sacrificed. Would I be taken seriously if I lust after Meri’s wife?”
“Ramrod and bollocks.” Grayson leaned forward. “Of course, you would be.”
“There’s more.” Christian stared at the desk. “I asked her to help me start a business, a charity of sorts. We’re going to meet later to see about a warehouse that she thinks would be an ideal location.”
“Good. May I make an observation? Not a single soul would care one whit whom you lusted for. Particularly if you’re doing good work.” His face grew animated. “Indeed, I like the idea. If I had the money, I’d host an event introducing it for you.”
“That’s kind of you,” Christian agreed. “I’m not so certain it’s wise to depend upon Katherine. She was Meri’s wife.”
“Come on,” Grayson chided. “That’s a little narrow-minded, isn’t it?”
“This attraction to her reeks of scandal. I want this charity to succeed.” Christian steepled his hands together. “To accomplish that, I need people’s good opinion to make it happen.”
Grayson laughed, a genuine sound of good humor. “You’ve been away so long, you don’t understand society anymore, my friend. Those fools live for gossip. As soon as one rumor surfaces, another pops up and grabs their attention. They’re like pups learning to hunt. They may learn to point, but one squirrel racing by completely captures their attention.” He laughed at his own joke. “Take my advice. If you’re interested in this woman, then you shouldn’t worry about society. You should worry if it’s a good match for you.” He leaned forward in his chair. “Besides, society will forgive you anything. You’re a duke and a bloody war hero, a man who risked his life to save others when certain death faced them.” Without allowing Christian to answer, he continued, “Are you concerned if you married her—”
“Marriage? My God, man! I simply wanted to kiss her.” Christian shook his head. “I’m talking about an attraction, that is all.”
“Is it?” Grayson narrowed his eyes again.
Frankly, Christian felt as if his inner workings were being examined under a microscope. Christian cleared his throat to quell the riot of emotions that swept through him at the direct questions and observations. Deep down, he knew that Grayson was right.
Christian leaned back against his chair. “I can’t answer that. She’s the only woman I’ve met since I’ve been back in London who challenges me one minute, then can turn around and delight me.” He exhaled deeply, but his troubles were still lodged in his foremost thoughts. “But for God’s sake, she married my brother. Why couldn’t she be someone else?”
“Such as?” Grayson drummed his fingers on one thigh.
“Someone who had nothing to do with Meri.” He stared straight at Grayson. “She’s in commerce. Runs a linen business of some sort.”
Grayson smirked. “Is that a problem?”
“It’s perfect. In fact, she’s thought up amazing ideas for the charity. With her astute business sense, she probably helped Meri with money. The problem is … it’s as if he conjured her from thin air, married her, and now he’s tormenting me with her.” He held Grayson’s gaze.
The marquess lowered his voice. “Don’t live in the past.”
“Damnation, I’m not. I’m different. You don’t go to war for three years without changing.” He shot out of his seat like a cannon, upsetting the chair in the process. Without acknowledging what he’d done, Christian stood the chair upright. “You, of all people, should understand that better than anyone.”