Veronica been tempted last night…for a few lovely moments after he’d told her he missed her, she’d been sorely tempted to believe that she and Sebastian might have a chance at happiness. But she’d known all along that had been nothing but a silly dream. He was only being nice to her because he wanted an heir and a duchess to grace his arm, and she was his only chance at either.

He insisted he had not taken Melissa to bed, but what else had he been doing at her town house that night? Paying a social call? It made little sense. He was obviously a liar. And he didn’t even have the grace to admit to it. No. Sebastian entirely denied that he’d cheated, clearly taking her for a fool.

“Once you’ve got the right partner at your side, it’s up to you to keep them there,” Grandpapa continued.

Veronica shook her head and concentrated on his words. She refused to allow her ridiculous problems with Sebastian keep her from spending time with her beloved Grandpapa.

“And your partner must do the same. You both must make the choice every day to love and to accept love. That’s what true love is,” Grandpapa finished.

Veronica smiled and squeezed his hand. His advice couldn’t help her now. She’d already made the wrong choice, married the wrong man. Her tears had dried, but she still couldn’t do it. She couldn’t tell him the truth. She didn’t want her beloved grandfather to go to his grave worried about her, knowing she’d ruined her chance at true love. True love? She sighed. It sounded quite wonderful, but it certainly wasn’t what she and Sebastian had. No. It was too late for her. She’d picked the wrong partner. An irreversible mistake.

Chapter Thirteen

The next few days passed with an alacrity that surprised Sebastian. He’d sent his footmen to and from London with some business correspondence and other tasks while using the study at Whitmore Manor—with Justin’s permission—to review the ledgers he’d brought with him, write letters, and take care of other business matters. The distraction kept his mind from his maddening wife, at least.

He’d stuck to his vow and hadn’t touched her since the night they’d first arrived, though he wanted her beyond reason. With each passing day, the temptation to put his hands on her grew stronger, but so did his determination. He refused to make love to a woman who wouldn’t even admit to enjoying it. Even for an heir. If she wasn’t with child already, he supposed some distant cousin would eventually inherit the title. At the moment, he didn’t give a bloody damn.

If she wondered why he hadn’t reached for her as they laid next to each other in bed night after night, their breathing mingling in the cold air that the hearth across the room couldn’t entirely warm, she said nothing. She hadn’t reached for him either, of course. And it was completely absurd to be disappointed by an outcome that was entirely predictable.