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" G ood morning, Lord Harbury. Thank you for your visit."

"You should call me Henry," Lord Harbury said with a smile. "I'd like us to be on a first name basis, if you're comfortable with that."

Victoria hesitated. But, she supposed, there was no harm in a name. "Very well," she agreed. "You may call me Victoria, then."

"It's a beautiful name," he said, smiling. "Almost as beautiful as its owner. And I'm so grateful to consider you a friend, Victoria."

"Begging your pardon," she said, "but I can't help but feel as if that word is being applied in haste, Henry.

Though I do find you to be a pleasant gentleman, and I have enjoyed every moment I've spent in your company, the fact remains that we hardly know one another.

I would have thought we would spend more time in each other's company before applying the term friend . "

"Well, I hope to do just that," Henry said.

"I've come here today because it's my aim to spend a great deal more time with you, Victoria.

I know we've only met once before, and this must be a great surprise for you.

But I was a business associate of your late husband's and he had asked me to look out for you in the event of his death.

He cared a great deal for you, you know. "

"No, he didn't." Victoria frowned. "He hardly knew me. He probably knew less about me than you do. He married me because I was young, and he wanted a young wife. It had nothing to do with caring for me."

"I believe that you think that, but it isn't the truth. You must take my word for it. He and I had many conversations before the two of you married. We discussed his feelings for you many times."

Victoria frowned, trying to process what she was hearing.

She didn't believe the late duke had had any feelings to speak of for her.

She hadn't forgotten the way he had leered at her on their wedding day, as if she was nothing more than an object.

She would never forget how it had felt to be looked at in that way.

And yet…

Maybe there was something to what Henry was saying.

The duke hadn't felt any tenderness or affection for her, but it was possible to believe that he might have felt a sense of duty.

She could imagine him speaking to a friend, asking Henry to care for her if anything should happen to him.

After all, he had known that he was a good deal older than she was.

He couldn't have known his death was so near, but he would have known that Victoria was likely to outlive him.

He would have been able to imagine her future after he was gone.

And Henry, while not a young man, was younger than the duke had been and surely had many more years ahead of him.

"I understand that you wish to see me provided for," she said at last. "But you know, don't you, that His Grace is working hard to find me a marriage? Everything will be seen to, and there's no need for you to spend any time worrying about my future. I'll be married soon enough."

"Well, perhaps that's true," Henry acknowledged. "But you must know that there are plenty of gentlemen out there who would seek a marriage to you for less than noble reasons."

Victoria said nothing. She did know that, of course. Every gentleman who had ever pursued her had done so for underhanded reasons. That wasn't something she was willing to discuss with Henry, but it was never far from her mind.

"I hope you'll consider me as an option, if for no other reason than that you can trust my intentions," he went on.

"It's true that you and I don't know each other well yet, but I assure you, my only aim is to ensure that my old friend and business partner's widow is cared for. It means a great deal to me."

"I'm not sure," Victoria said. "It's a very kind offer, but I'm just…not sure this is what's right for me. And I couldn't accept a proposal without securing a blessing from His Grace, of course."

It was an outright lie. James had been more than clear that she didn't need his permission.

But Victoria felt so uncertain about this turn of events that she couldn't help trying to find a way out of it.

Surely there must be something that could be done—something that would make Henry go away and leave her on her own.

"I spoke to the duke," Henry said. "He seemed to suggest that if I could obtain your consent, he would allow the marriage to go forward.

And, in truth, your opinion is all that matters to me, Victoria.

You are the one I wish to marry, not the duke.

I know his reputation for trying to maintain rigid control of things, and I'm sure he must make you feel as though you have no right to say yes or no to my offer without speaking to him.

The truth is that you do have that right, and the only thing I want to know is what you want. "

Victoria sucked in a breath. It felt so strange, so unfamiliar, to be asked what she wanted and to believe that the person doing the asking actually cared what her answer might be.

And yet, she did believe it. There was a sincerity to his tone that made her feel sure he did mean what he said.

He wanted to marry her—but only if it was what she wanted as well.

I might not get a better offer. James might be right about that.

She had hoped that James would confess his own feelings for her—she could admit that hope to herself now.

She had thought perhaps there might be something real between the two of them, and the fact was, she had wanted there to be something.

She couldn't ignore her own feelings for James.

Marrying someone else, leaving his house to be with another gentleman, felt wrong, and it made her heart ache with loss.

She had hoped for something different—something more.

Now she had to accept the fact that the thoughts she had entertained about a future with James had been nothing more than errant dreams. They would never come to pass, and the only sensible thing to do was to let them go.

But how could she let go just like that? After everything she and James had been through together—after the kiss the two of them had shared—she was supposed to just walk away from their relationship as if it had been nothing at all? She couldn't do it.

She turned to look up at the house.

She only meant to look for a moment, to reminisce about the time she had spent living here, to ponder the fact that she might soon be saying farewell to the place that had been her home. But something caught her eye.

Movement in one of the upper windows.

It was James.

He was standing in his office, she saw, and gazing down over the gardens. He must have been watching her—that window offered a perfect view of this side of the building, and this was where James had known she would be walking with Henry.

Though he had tried to imply that he didn't care what she did, Victoria wasn't fooled—he was taking an interest. That much was clear.

The only question was—what did he want? What did he want to have happen? What was he hoping she would do?

There was a fluttering of hope in her heart. Perhaps even now, he was hoping that she would decline this marriage proposal. Perhaps he hadn't wanted to ask her to choose him, but deep down, he was still hoping that she would.

But…no, that couldn't be. She had nearly asked him outright whether that was the case, and he had told her no. It didn't make sense to go on hoping for something she knew she could never have. It was foolish and irresponsible, and she was setting herself up for heartbreak.

He would force her to marry eventually, and he would never marry her himself.

And given those facts, maybe the best thing for her to do was to accept the gentleman who stood before her.

After all, if nothing else, he was kind.

He did seem to want the best for her. She could see the value in those things. She knew that she could do much worse.

"I have to tell you the truth," she told Henry. "You deserve honesty."

"The truth about what?"

"I'm not in love with you," she said. "And I don't know whether I ever will be.

It's nothing personal, but I find love a difficult thing to experience, and I don't know that I'll ever feel it for another gentleman again.

" Her eyes lingered on James, but she forced herself to look away.

To make eye contact with Henry instead. He was the one she was speaking to now, not James.

He had the right to feel as if he had her full attention. "

"I hadn't expected you to feel love for me already," Henry said. "After all, we hardly know one another. I did hope some feelings might grow over time, though. Are you saying they won't?"

"I'm merely saying that I can't offer any guarantee.

I like you quite a lot, Henry. I respect you, and I have always enjoyed your company.

But as for love…I just don't know whether I have that in me.

Not for anyone. And if not, I wouldn't want to marry you under false pretenses.

I wouldn't want to give you hope that something will grow between us, only for you to realize that it never will. "

"I'm willing to take the chance," Henry said.

"And if you're disappointed?"

"Well," he said, "you do like me, correct? You enjoy my company?"

"That's right," Victoria said. She could give him that much.

"Well then, if worse comes to worst, we will have a marriage of companionship. We will be friends to one another and partners in our life together. And truly, would that be so bad?"

"It wouldn't be bad at all," Victoria said. "I can see myself truly enjoying that life, Henry. But I don't want to be dishonest with you. That's all it is."

"Consider me dealt with honestly," he told her, smiling. "And now that you've been honest…will you consider being my wife, Victoria? Because I'm being honest with you when I tell you that nothing would make me happier—whether it turns to a marriage of love or not."

"This is really what you want?"

"It really is."

She looked up at the house again. James was still standing in the window, still watching their conversation, and Victoria couldn't help feeling as though he was listening to every word that was being said, even though she knew there was no way he could hear them from up there.

It broke her heart.

She had let herself become attached to him.

She'd allowed herself to care for him. She could see now what a mistake that had been.

She should have kept him at arm's length all this time—she never should have allowed him to get close.

Now that he had, she could only accept that she deserved this heartbreak.

She had brought it upon herself, and the consequences were hers to deal with.

"Yes," she said softly, her eyes on James. "I'll marry you."

Henry said something in response, but Victoria couldn't focus on his words. The only thing that had her attention was James—the man she truly loved—up in the window, staring down at her as she promised herself to someone else.