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In that moment she realized he had not been sleeping in the coach when she'd examined the miniature with such detached and puzzled longing. He had seen her take it out, caress it with her thumb, and talk softly to the man whose image it held. Shame and mortification blazed through her. "You saw," she said, red-faced with guilt. "I saw. But I do not condemn. I told you I would give you all the time you need, Juliet. I shall never, ever push you." "I know you won't, but Gareth, although I like you, am very, very fond of you, I ... I may never be able to love any man the way I loved Charles, and that is unfair to you." "Juliet." He smiled with gentle tolerance, his hand caressing the side of her face. "My dearest Juliet. I knew when I asked you to marry me that you still loved him. I knew where your heart lay, where your thoughts lingered. I have always known, and I do not suffer any delusions that you may ever come to think of me in the same way that you did Charles. I accept that. Do you not see?" "Oh, Gareth..." She shook her head, guilt twisting her heart. "What about you? What about how you feel about me?" "My dear," he said gently, "I should think that that is painfully obvious." She
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