“What do you want, Your Grace?” He wanted so much, and so well that he shocked himself with his answer. “I want you not to call me Your Grace.” She turned at that, her blue eyes grey in the darkness. “You remain a duke, do you not?” “You never treated me as one.” One side of her mouth rose in a little smile. “Silly Haven. Didn’t you leave me because I knew your title too well?” He hated the words. Hated that even in this quiet, private darkness, they were cloaked in the past. But most of all, he hated the truth in them. He had left her because he’d thought she cared for his dukedom more than
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