"You cannot see her, your grace," the woman declared, one of her hands resting on her hip and the other on a worn walking stick.

Nate was currently standing outside of Fiona's home. He'd come to grovel. This woman had answered the door and had immediately denied him the permission to enter when she'd learnt his identity.

Guessing from the authoritative look on her face and her white hair, she had to be Fiona's infamous great grandmother.

He knew he should be appalled but he was merely amused.

"But I need to speak with her," he tried again.

"I don't think she wants you to speak to her," she huffed. "Don't you think you've said enough?"

Nate stiffened.

Being reminded of his stupidity hurt.

"Yes, I said some things that I regret. And I have come to apologise. And tell her I love her."

"You what?" the older woman's mouth practically fell open.

"I do. I love her with every breath in my body," he said solemnly. "I was blinded by jealousy when I said those things to her."

Her face softened just a little and Nate took advantage and ploughed on.

"I wish to marry her and make her my duchess for I cannot imagine anyone else filling that position anymore. It has to be her..."

"You don't play fair, Duke," she huffed, disgruntled.

Nate grinned.

"I still don't think she'll want to see you," Jeanette warned as she opened the door wider to let him in.

"Where is she?" he asked when he didn't see her anywhere.

"She's gone out to the market. She'll be back any moment now," she smiled slyly.

Bloody hell. Fiona had been out the entire while that he'd spent begging for entrance.

"You don't play fair either," Nate acknowledged the woman.

"Sit down and make yourself comfortable. I'm sure she'll be back any moment now," she repeated. Nate found that odd.

But after waiting for an hour and a half, he understood why.

There was still no sign of Fiona and Nate was beginning to lose patience.

"I'll go find her myself!" he stood up and made his way to the door. Jeanette tried to stop him but he didn't listen. He'd had enough biscuits, tea and inane conversation.

He forcefully opened the door and there stood Fiona, her hand frozen in place as she'd made to open the door.

Nate would've kissed her just then.

Except, she didn't look half as happy to see him as he was to see her.

She looked furious.

"Nana Jeanette! Why is this man in our house?" she shouted.

"I think you should ask him, darling," she replied calmly.

"Why are you here?" she turned to him, her eyes wild.

"I had to apologise—"

"Apology denied. Now leave," she pointed outside.

"You can't speak to me this way."

"Oh that's funny! Because I am speaking to you that way now. So I clearly can."

Nate thought he heard a muffled snort and he turned to stare at Fiona's great grandmother. But the woman covered it with a cough.

"I know you're angry and you have every reason to be. But hear me out...please," he looked to Fiona again.

"I am exhausted and I don't need you to invade my living space and demand to be acknowledged," she replied.

Now that really did it.

"I invaded your living space? Don't you think it's the other way around?! You entered my home and refused to leave. Then you came by every single day and tormented me until I had no choice but to fall in love with you! If anyone forced someone to acknowledge them, it was you. I tried so hard to stay away from you but you weren't having it. You were everywhere. Hell you didn't even spare my bed chamber. You had my entire house smelling like roses. I didn't even know I liked roses so much until you. You, Miss Butterworth even have my mother under your spell, not to mention the entire staff of Bedford manor. And I am no exception," he finished his tirade and found Fiona staring at him while her mouth touched the floor.

He turned around to find Jeanette gone. She'd probably decided to give them both some privacy.

"You love me?" she whispered.

"Yes. And I want to marry you."

There was a long pause after that.

"Well?" He prodded when Fiona refused to speak.

"That didn't quite sound like an apology," she murmured.

"I'm so sorry for last night, Fiona. I was mad with jealousy...when I thought you'd accepted Winston's proposal, that you were with him, I lost it," he sighed.

"That was not the problem. The problem was that you didn't trust me enough to know that I'd never put anything before my duty to your mother. You don't know me at all, Duke. And you need to know someone to love them," Fiona sighed.

"No, don't say that! I made a mistake, Fiona. Please forgive me. I promise I will never repeat it."

"Alright. I forgive you."

"Really?" He went to her and took her hands in his.

"That doesn't mean I love you," she whispered, a frown marring her beautiful face.

She might as well have slapped him.

"You don't?" He asked even as he felt her hands slipping from his.

She wasn't meeting his eyes but she shook her head.

Nate didn't know what to say. He didn't blame her, he really didn't. But this rejection hurt like hell.

He nodded and turned to leave. She didn't stop him.

And so he left, shutting the door softly behind him.

As soon as the Duke left, Fiona ran to her room. She sat on her bed and it creaked familiarly.

I want to marry you, he'd said.

He couldn't possibly mean it, could he?

She was a lowly companion with nothing to recommend her.

And what about Lady Sophia? Had he broken off his betrothal with the Lady for her?

Good god, what was happening in her life?

Two months ago her life had been so simple. Free of such entanglements. She wanted to think but her head had began to throb. So she lay down.

The expression on his face when she'd told him that she didn't love him—ha what a lie that had been—had broken her heart...or whatever was left of it. She didn't want to lie to him but he'd never let her be if he knew that she loved him.

And she knew one thing for certain, she'd never forget the way he'd treated her.