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Isabella looked about. “I can’t see where she is. Probably hiding.”

Duncan frowned. “From what?”

“Never mind,” Isabella sighed. “My mother is waving me over, best say hello.” She indicated to her mother, who was already on her way.

“And that is my cue to leave,” Duncan laughed. “I’ll be right back, I promise.” He turned and met Juliet’s eyes and then, as she watched him, he made sure to lean in and give Isabella a kiss on the cheek.

He then ducked away from Isabella, keeping low as he made for Juliet. But he did not go straight for her, walking around the long way and then coming in from behind.

Even then, he made sure to stand back, and he did not face her directly as he spoke.

“I was not sure if you would come,” he said, focusing on a rose bush, as if it brought him great interest, while refusing to look directly at Juliet.

“I had no choice. I had to --”

“Not here,” Duncan demanded, concealing his fury with great difficulty.

“Where?”

“Inside, the kitchen. Meet me in two minutes.” He did not wait for an answer, putting his head down and powering toward the manor.

Once inside, he ducked through the back hallway and walked into the kitchen, where he began to mentally prepare himself for a conversation that he did not want to have but knew he must.

Juliet swept into the kitchen a moment later and the very second that Duncan saw the look in the woman’s eyes, he knew this was not going to be as easy a conversation as he would have liked. Not even close.

“Your Grace!” she purred as she went for him, already reaching out her hands as if she meant to take his head in them and pull his lips into a kiss. “I was hoping I would see --”

Duncan snatched her hands and held them back. “Juliet, there will be none of that. We need to talk.”

She tried for a disarming chuckle as Duncan released her hands and she folded them behind her back. “Why do you think I am here? To talk.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “This is not a conversation that you will enjoy, Juliet. I need you to understand this.”

“Duncan...” She sighed and looked at him knowingly. “Do not play the fool with me – and do not lie to yourself, either. I think we are both passed that. Don’t you?”

“I read your letter, Juliet and I had hoped that my lack of a response was answer enough.”

“It wasn’t an answer at all. But in that, I saw what you wanted to say. What youneedto say, even if fear is holding you back. That is why I came, to give you the chance to say it to my face.”

“Juliet...” He groaned. “I do not love --”

“Don’t say it!” she cut him off. “Not yet. Please, before you say anything, let me explain. I did not write that letter on a whim. And I did not come here today because of some delusion. I would hope you know me better than that.”

“I thought I did.”

“Then please.” Again, she went to take his head in her hands and Duncan snatched them and held them back. She smiled sheepishly and pulled them away. “I just want to talk, that is all.”

“Then talk.”

Duncan’s affair with Juliet had never meant to be more than what it was, a sexual relationship with no strings or expectations because as he had told her when it began that he did not want anything serious. And she had concurred with that reasoning. She had told him that she was of the same mind.

Indeed, throughout their brief affair, it had been this way. And when Duncan ended it, although she had been upset, she had accepted it soundly and without protest. That was, after all, why he had chosen her.

She had an elegant and refined beauty about her. Regal in how well put together she was. Tall and lithe, sharp features, soft white skin, and dark hair. At the time, she had been the epitome of beauty in Duncan’s eyes, perfect because that was how he liked his women.

Funny that to see her now, when comparing her to Isabella, he could not help but feel surprised that once he had been so sexually drawn to this woman.

Now all he could think was that she was no Isabella.