Page 22 of Sweet Duke of Mine

COMPLICATED

“ A fter breakfast?” Daisy exhaled, content—practically boneless in his arms.

Midnight had long passed, and in the wake of a good deal of catching up, she ought to be sleepy. She ought to feel nothing but warmth and satisfaction.

But instead, unease curled deep in her belly.

“I need to get to the bottom of this.” Alastair’s voice was a low murmur against her hair. He drew lazy circles on the back of her wrist with his thumb, the small gesture somehow making her feel cherished, even as her heart braced for what was to come. “Because I want more of this .”

Daisy’s breath hitched.

His words hinted at a future she refused to imagine. They echoed her deepest, most desperate desires. But they also taunted her. Because no matter how much she wished to believe him, she couldn’t forget the reality of their circumstances.

“It’s not that simple, though.” She’d argued this before—more times than she could count .

But this time, rather than dismissing her concerns, he surprised her.

“It isn’t.” He let out a quiet chuckle, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of her shoulder. “In fact, it’s complicated as hell.”

She twisted around to study his face, half expecting to find amusement lurking in his expression.

But there was none. Instead, his gaze held hers, steady and sure.

He was no longer the boy from her youth. He was a man, confident, proud, and … utterly unwavering in his intent.

A man who had seen the world, who had fought for his beliefs, who had nearly died—and yet, here he was…

A man who had once walked away.

And a man who, despite everything, was now telling her he wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

“Anything worth having, Daisy, is never going to be easy.” His voice came out rough with conviction. “You are my heart, and I’m prepared to fight for us this time. I’m no longer an ill-informed heir—easily manipulated by Society’s dictates.”

Daisy swallowed hard, her fingers tightening over his. “Or those of your uncle,” she felt it necessary to add.

His mouth flattened slightly, but he didn’t argue.

“He only did what he thought was best, I suppose.” A sigh escaped him. “He mourned my father as deeply as I did. And he is my uncle. My flesh and blood.”

Daisy hesitated. She wanted to push—wanted to tell him that there were different kinds of loyalty. That the ties of family could be both a comfort and a prison.

But she had not been there. She had not lived in his world.

And she could not argue with the love he still held for a man who might have betrayed him.

“Do you have a plan?” She trusted Alastair.

Fate, not so much.

He rolled onto his side, brushing his knuckles against her cheek. “I will learn what my uncle knows.” A determined glint entered his eyes. “And I will tell him I’ve found you again and that this time, there will be a betrothal. Afterwards, you and I will go to the authorities together. They’ll need a description of my attackers. I’ll hire additional watchmen until the culprit is brought to justice.”

Daisy’s lips parted, but no words came.

Betrothal?

As though it were already decided. As though this future she’d only ever allowed herself to dream of in the quietest moments of longing could actually be real.

But reality had a way of tearing her dreams apart.

She curled her fingers around the sheet beneath her, willing herself to ignore the cold trickle of fear in her veins. Because no matter how much she wanted to believe in him, she couldn’t forget the lesson she had already learned.

Hope was dangerous.

So was love.

And yet, he was in her bed. She was in his arms.

She twisted around again, this time feigning indignation. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” She swallowed against the effervescence bubbling in her chest, fighting the ridiculous urge to grin.

Oh, how she adored the way the moonlight softened the sharp angles of his face, the shadows along his jaw, the fullness of his lips. But most of all, she adored the way he looked at her—with undisguised affection, with something perilously close to reverence.

He frowned, puzzled for only a moment before realization dawned in his eyes, sending those gold flecks dancing. “I have not asked you yet.”

A thrill ran through her, even as she fought to suppress it. “This is the first time I’ve seen you blush. ”

He rolled over, pinning her to the mattress. “I never blush,” he said gruffly, his breath teasing her lips.

“How would you know?” she murmured, biting back a laugh.

His expression turned solemn, the teasing flickering away like a candle snuffed by the wind. “Marry me, Daisy. Be my wife.”

This time, he was not a boy.

She sucked in a breath. His proposal was too perfect. Too much of a dream.

“I am no duchess,” she whispered, searching his face, waiting for him to see reason.

But he didn’t waver. The gold in his eyes blazed with determination, fierce and unwavering. “You need only be yourself. We’ll figure everything out later. But I can’t lose you again.” His voice dropped, rough with emotion. “I refuse to lose you again.” He exhaled sharply, like a man making a final gamble. “Please, my love, make me the happiest of men.”

He was impossible.

Because he was asking for a promise neither of them could keep.

And yet… he was willing to fight for her. For them .

Was she such a coward that she would surrender before the battle had even begun?

“I’m not…” She swallowed hard. “I don’t even know how to set a table properly. I wouldn’t know how to exist in your world.” Surely, he must understand this.

His lips twitched as if he might laugh, but instead, he smoothed his hand down her arm, his thumb tracing slow, reassuring circles. “Which, if I’m being honest, is part of what makes you the perfect wife.” His expression was utterly sincere. “You are intelligent beyond your years, truly elegant in your honesty, and on top of all that, you are breathtakingly beautiful.” He cupped her cheek, his palm warm and grounding. “But more important than all of that, you are real, Daisy. And you make me real. ”

Her breath hitched. His words were finding their way into the cracks she’d tried so hard to seal.

He placed his palm over her heart. “You’ve proven yourself stronger than most men, Daisy. You’ve cared for your brother, built a business, survived against all odds. You have done what people in my world could never do.”

She stared up at him, stunned.

“You are compassionate and kind. Daisy, by God, you possess the heart of a queen.” His voice wavered now, raw with sincerity. “But most important of all, I love you.”

The words sent a tremor through her, stealing her breath.

“I’ll fight for us too,” she whispered. But a part of her was terrified—because what if they lost? What if this all crumbled beneath them? Failure felt like the most likely outcome, and she wasn’t sure her heart could survive losing him again.

“Is that a yes?” His grin was boyish, hopeful—too confident, as if he already knew her answer.

And how could she say anything but yes?

Her lips curled, and she wound her arms around him, tugging him down so his full weight pressed the breath from her lungs in the best possible way. “If this all works out,” she murmured against his skin, “I’ll marry you.”

“It will work out.” His mouth found hers, sealing the promise. “Trust me.”

Very early the next morning, while Daisy slept soundly beside him, sleep eluded Alastair. The weight of all that needed to be done pressed heavily on his chest.

By the time a hint of rose-colored light peeked over the horizon, he had slipped out of bed, dressed in the clothes Daisy had mended, and begun pacing the room.

He debated waking her.

If he left now, he could speak with his uncle and possibly have everything sorted before she even finished preparing breakfast.

But if he woke her, she’d… not try to stop him, but perhaps distract him, delay him.

So instead of nudging her awake, instead of seeing that soft, worried look in her eyes, he leaned down and pressed a light kiss to her forehead, lingering longer than he should. Then he crept downstairs, moving as quietly as possible.

What he had not anticipated was Gilbert, already awake, seated at the kitchen table with a book open in front of him, a single flickering candle casting long shadows over the room.

The moment Alastair emerged from the stairwell, Gilbert looked up, his young face a mask of stern disapproval. His jaw lifted proudly—so much like Daisy’s that Alastair almost smiled.

“You have remembered,” the boy said. Not a question. A statement. He was sharper than his years suggested.

Alastair inclined his head. “I have.” He kept his voice low.

Gilbert’s eyes narrowed. “And so, you’re sneaking out before daylight—sneaking out of my sister’s bed.” He sat up straighter, shoulders squared. “I’m going to have to challenge you.”

Alastair blinked, first in surprise, then in fierce pride. The sheer audacity of the boy stunned him—but only for a moment. Of course, Daisy’s brother would stand up for her honor. Young though he was, he carried himself like a man already, a testament to how she had raised him .

Alastair exhaled. “I’m not sneaking out,” he assured him. “And I’m certainly not abandoning her. Or you.”

“She knows you’re leaving, then?”

Alastair hesitated for only a moment before answering. “We discussed it.”

The boy’s eyes darkened, and Alastair sighed.

“She wanted me to wait until after breakfast, but… I cannot wait.” He met Gilbert’s eyes and then added, “And I swear to you, I will come back to her.” He hesitated, then added, “To both of you.”

Gilbert studied him in silence for a long moment, his young face far too serious for his years.

Alastair scrubbed a hand down his face. “When she wakes, she’ll explain everything to you.” He wouldn’t presume to tell the boy anything without discussing it with her first. Daisy might wish to keep some of their history to herself.

Gilbert’s eyes didn’t soften. “You were only supposed to pretend to be her husband so the neighbors wouldn’t talk,” he reminded him. “But you’ve taken advantage of our hospitality, and now you intend to leave.”

It wasn’t an accusation made lightly.

Alastair met his gaze squarely—man to man. “I am leaving to clear the way so I can marry her.” He let the truth settle between them before he said firmly, “I love your sister.”

Gilbert’s jaw twitched, his expression unreadable as he absorbed this.

“She has agreed to this?” His voice had lost some of its heat.

Alastair crossed to the table and placed his palms flat on the surface. “I should have talked with you first.” He showed her brother the respect he deserved. “I’d be honored to have your blessing.” The thickness in his throat surprised him, but following a tense few seconds, Gilbert nodded.

“So long as it’s what she wants.” There was no talk of marriage contracts or dowries. And yet, the genuineness of the moment would be with him forever.

“It is,” Alastair said. He then rose to his full height. “But first, I need to settle my affairs.”

“Are you in danger?”

“I’ll be careful.”

“You promise?”

“Absolutely.”

Alastair strode to the door but then paused and turned. “Tell her I love her. And that I’ll return soon.”

“I will.”

Then, slowly, he gave a single nod. It was not full acceptance, but it was enough.

Still, Alastair hesitated. “Look after her until I return.”

“She’s looked after herself just fine without you,” Gilbert muttered.

Alastair smiled wryly. “That she has.”

And with that, he slipped out the door into the breaking dawn, determined to prove himself worthy of the woman waiting for him upstairs.