Chapter 16
“Might I speak with you for a few minutes?”
Jericho turned from where he had been staring blindly out his study window at the garden. Something he had done a lot of late, mainly because he could not settle to concentrate on any of the work piling up on his desk.
Which was the reason Cousin Gwendoline’s interruption was so welcome. That, and the fact she was his only source of information regarding Jocelyn.
He stood up. “Come in, by all means.” He moved to pull back a chair for her to sit down before resuming his seat behind the desk. “Is there something amiss with Jocelyn?”
“Nothing a visit from you would not cure,” she answered waspishly.
Jericho frowned. “I have been busy.”
“So I have repeatedly told Jocey.” She nodded. “But it does not wash, Jericho. You know it, I know it, and so does Jocey.”
He winced. “It is better for Jocelyn if I stay away.”
“I disagree.”
His demeanor became guarded. “What does that mean?”
Gwendoline drew in a deep breath. “I have a story I wish to tell you. One I should like you to listen to carefully and hopefully learn from,” she added in a stern voice.
“Of course,” he agreed.
“Very well.” She straightened in her chair. “Thirty years ago I was engaged to be married— I asked that you listen and learn,” she reproved as Jericho relaxed back in his chair. “Better,” she approved as he sat forward to lean his elbows on the desktop and give her his full attention. “I was engaged to be married, but before the wedding could take place, my fiancé was shot and killed in a duel.”
“I am sorry to hear that—”
“By your father.”
“I beg your pardon?” Jericho gasped.
Her smile lacked humor. “My fiancé, Henry, became…caught up in the wiles of another woman. She was only playing with him, of course, but Henry’s guilt was such, it caused him to confess the lapse to both myself and your father.”
Jericho closed his eyes. “The other woman was my mother.”
“Yes. But that is not the point of this story,” Gwendoline dismissed briskly. “The point of the story is that I should not have let my pride rule my head but listened to my heart instead. I should have forgiven Henry when he asked me to, and perhaps by now, we would have been grandparents and laughing together over his silliness. There had been no physical misconduct between him and Caroline, only a few kisses, and Caroline had no interest in continuing even with that once she had made the conquest.”
“My father did not see it that way,” Jericho sighed, knowing only too well how his mother had liked to play games with other people’s lives. But he had never known, never guessed, she had harmed her own cousin by marriage in such a manner as this. It was a wonder Gwendoline could even bear to be around him or any of his family after what his mother had done to her.
“Cousin William has always been hotheaded, and Caroline knew just how far to push his temper.” Gwendoline sighed. “I warned Henry against talking to William, but he did not listen, and the duel and his death were the result.”
“It is a terrible and sad story, and I apologize on behalf of both my parents, but I do not quite see…”
“What relevance it has to here and now?” the elderly lady finished. “The relevance it has, Jericho, is that you are now behaving with the same stubbornness as I did all those years ago. It is a family trait, of course, but even so…” She gave an impatient shake of her head. “You have lost weight this past week. Your face is pale. There are lines of strain beside your eyes and mouth. All of them indications of the deep stress you are under.”
“I have explained the situation to you regarding our search for the traitor to the Crown.”
“That is not the reason for your current stress.”
Jericho’s frowned. “I assure you—”
“And I assure you that I am not so old, I cannot see what is right in front of my nose,” Gwendoline snapped. “You are languishing down here in your study and Jocey is languishing upstairs in her bedchamber, both of you too stubborn to talk to the other.”
“There is nothing to say—”
“There is everything to say.” The elderly lady rose to her feet. “Do not make the mistake I did, Jericho. Do not let fear and pride stand in the way of what you truly want. Who you truly want.”
He gave a shake of his head. “You have mistaken the situation.”
“Really?” she challenged. “At the moment, your guilt over the shooting is telling you it is for the best if you keep your distance from Jocey. That she is better off without you in her life. That being in your life is the reason she was shot. Meanwhile, Jocey is upstairs in her bedchamber believing she has become nothing but a burden to you.”
Jericho rose angrily. “That is preposterous!”
“Is it?”
“Of course, it is,” he snapped as he began to pace the room. “She has never been a burden to me. Sh-she is the light to my darkness. Laughter to my dourness. Unbridled joy to my reticence. I have never for a moment regretted taking her as my ward.”
“Or as your lover?”
Jericho stared at the elderly lady as he came to an abrupt halt in his room. “What has Jocelyn told you?” Wariness edged his tone.
“Absolutely nothing,” Gwendoline dismissed. “But your current expression and demeanor confirm for me the two of you have become lovers.”
Jericho felt color warm his cheeks. “We have not— We did not—”
“Consummate the affair?” She shook her head. “That is between you and Jocey. I am only concerned for the fact two people I love deeply are at the moment behaving like two muleheaded nitwits. Love is to be treasured, Jericho.” Her voice gentled. “It is the greatest gift one human being can bestow upon another. I lost the man I loved because my pride would not let me forgive Henry, and then it was too late. You will not even take a chance on love out of fear— Yes, I know you fear the emotion,” she soothed as he startled. “That you have difficulty trusting women. I am not surprised by that distrust after the way your mother behaved all your life. But Jocey is not Caroline, nor is she anything like her. Jocey is true to her friends and her family alike, such as we are,” she added ruefully.
Jericho thought back to how Jocelyn had removed the family of mice from the range at Pomeroy Cottage, so they should not perish. Her determination to visit Prudence Germaine and offer her love and support. Even though she had known both those things would cause his displeasure. Of how stoically she had suffered his father’s indifference for years without complaint. How Jocelyn was always so gentle and appreciative of Lady Gwendoline. How she had enjoyed his company until he had treated her so badly, he was sure she could never forgive him.
“Jocey does not believe she has anything to forgive you for,” Lady Gwendoline comforted, telling Jericho he must have spoken those last words out loud. “And neither should you,” she continued briskly as she stood up. “She is currently upstairs pretending to sleep, but I suspect she is crying instead.”
“Why?” he demanded. “What has happened to upset her?”
“You,” the elderly lady drawled ruefully. “Go to her, Jericho, forget your fears and accept and feel the love and affection you deserve.”
He could barely breathe. “You believe Jocelyn loves me?”
“That is for you to discover for yourself. All of life is a risk,” she added gently. “But love is too precious not to grab it with both hands when it comes your way.” She walked to the door. “I shall not expect to see either of you until dinnertime.”
Jericho remained in his study long after Lady Gwendoline had departed, his head filled with so many questions. Questions he had no answers to.
The most important one being whether or not it was possible Jocelyn did love him.
If she did, then Jericho would gladly spend the rest of his life being whatever she wished him to be.
Friend.
Lover.
Husband.
Jericho felt the familiar rise of panic at the mere thought of being any woman’s husband. Quickly followed by a euphoria so deep, so strong, at merely imagining being Jocelyn’s husband, he knew he could not sit and brood in his study a moment longer.
He needed to see and speak with Jocelyn.
To get down on his knees and beg for her forgiveness and love, if need be.
Jocey waited only long enough to be sure Lady Gwendoline had gone downstairs before throwing back the bedcovers and getting out of bed.
She was too restless, her thoughts too intense, for her to be able to sleep. Something she had already known when she made that excuse to her elderly companion. Jocey felt the need to be alone for a while. To allow her heartache full rein before she shut it away forever and decided what she was to do with the rest of her life.
Her first priority must be to remove herself from Pomeroy House. It was too cruel, too painful, to know that Jericho was somewhere in the house but did not wish to see her.
She could not leave for several more days yet, of course. She was becoming stronger every day, but so far, she had not been able to bear the constriction of her normal daily clothing and instead still wore a nightrail and robe for her comfort. Her hair also remained tied back with a ribbon rather than arranged in any of the intricate styles she usually favored.
Where would she go when she could leave?
Back to Wessex Manor would seem to be the logical choice. She could recuperate in Devon. The bracing air there would no doubt aid in her full recovery.
Except, Wessex Manor was so far away from London.
Too far away from Jericho.
But Jericho had made it more than obvious he did not want her here. She—
“Jocelyn.”
She turned sharply on her bare heel, eyes wide as she saw Jericho standing in the doorway of her bedchamber.
“Might I come in?” he prompted huskily.
“I… Yes, of course.” Jocey fidgeted self-consciously with the silk belt of her robe tied about her waist, feeling at a complete disadvantage dressed in her bedclothes.
Jericho looked as elegantly fashionable as usual, in a dark gray superfine and lighter gray pantaloons, as he stepped into the room and quietly closed the door behind him.
Well, perhaps not quite as he usually looked, she allowed, as he turned to face her and she saw the pale gauntness of his face and the dark circles about his eyes. His tailored clothing also seemed slightly loose on him, as if he had lost weight.
No doubt, despite what Jocey had said to Lady Gwendoline earlier, Jericho had been busy this past week, along with the other Sinners. Those gentlemen would, she believed, have increased their efforts to find who was responsible for killing Worthington and Priscilla Germaine, and now shooting Jocey. None of them would be safe until that matter was settled once and for all.
She forced a smile to her lips. “How might I help you?”
Jericho made no reply for several minutes as he drank in every detail of Jocelyn’s appearance. She was obviously feeling, and looked, so much better than when he had last seen her a week ago. But closer inspection revealed shadows in the depths of her eyes, that her face was very pale and thinner, the skin stretched tautly over her collarbones, and her movements were less assured and more nervous than they had been. There was also an air of constraint about her which Jericho had never seen before.
He drew in a deep and ragged breath, not sure how to proceed now that he was actually in Jocelyn’s presence. “The doctor tells me you are making a miraculous recovery.”
She nodded. “Enough so that I shall hopefully be able to remove myself from Pomeroy House by the end of the week.”
His eyes widened. “To go where?”
“I thought, with your permission, that Wessex Manor would be far enough away.”
“Away from what?”
“You.”
Cousin Gwendoline had been wrong, Jericho accepted heavily. Jocelyn felt nothing for him except a need to get away from him as soon as she was able.
“I should like to take Lady Gwendoline with me,” Jocelyn added. “If you permit it, that is?”
His mouth twisted. “My most recent conversation with that lady made it clear to me I am unable to stop her from going wherever and doing whatever she pleases.”
Jocelyn’s eyes widened. “I am sure you are mistaken. Lady Gwendoline is always everything that is amiable.”
“Not when it comes to her lamb,” he assured self-derisively.
Jocey knew he was referring to her. Lady Gwendoline had called her that pet name from the first day she arrived in Pomeroy House three years ago to act as Jocey’s chaperone. “Did you say something about me to upset her?” she prompted curiously.
“On the contrary.” Jericho smiled. “She had many things she wished to say to me.”
Jocey tensed warily. “Such as?”
“Well, the main point seemed to be that I should take my head out of my ass and talk to you.”
Jocey gasped. “I am sure Lady Gwendoline could never be so indelicate as that.”
“Possibly not.” Jericho smiled briefly. “But it was nevertheless implied in what she said to me.”
“Talk to me concerning what?” Jocey prompted cautiously. She had never told Lady Gwendoline of her feelings for Jericho, but the elderly lady could not be insensitive to the pleasure Jocey felt in his company. Her female companion was also aware of how upset Jocey had been, and still was, by Jericho’s avoidance of her this past week. Jocey sincerely hoped that lady had not felt compelled to upbraid Jericho for his tardiness, or how hurt Jocey felt by his absence.
Now that the time had come for Jericho to talk of his feelings, he found it difficult to do so. “Did you know that Cousin Gwendoline was once engaged to be married?”
Some of the tension seemed to ease from Jocelyn’s shoulders. “I did, yes. Her fiancé was killed in a duel, I believe, before they were made illegal.”
He nodded. “A duel with my father, because my mother had decided to make Gwendoline’s fiancé her latest conquest and my father took exception to it.”
Jocelyn gaped at him incredulously. “That is… I cannot believe… Truly?”
“Yes,” he confirmed heavily. “Thankfully, Gwendoline bears no grudge against me or this family for her misfortune.”
“For which I am truly grateful,” Jocelyn said with feeling.
Jericho gave an inclination of his head. “Her only reason for telling me the tragic story was because she did not wish us to make the same mistake she did.”
“I do not understand…?”
“She wishes she had forgiven her fiancé when he begged her to do so. As I now ask that you forgive me,” he added softly.
Jocey understood even less after this statement. She was not betrothed to Jericho. Nor did she have any right to reproach him if he had bedded someone else since their return to London. The likelihood was that he had, considering how long they had been back in the capital.
The thought of Jericho with another woman made her feel ill and caused her chest to ache with emotion rather than physical pain. But Jericho was free to do exactly as he pleased without complaint from her.
Even so… “I forgive you.”
The reply was made too easily for Jericho’s liking, and had seemed to increase the tension between the two of them rather than lessening it. “What are you forgiving me for?”
“I have no idea.” She shrugged dismissively. “But whatever it is, I am sure I shall forgive you.”
Jericho’s frown was pained. “I have treated you abominably these past few weeks. Suspected you of treason. Spanked you. Made love to you.”
“Well. Yes.” Color bloomed in her cheeks. “But at the time, you believed you had good reason for doing so.”
He drew in a deep breath. “I am not sure I could be so forgiving if our roles were reversed.”
She smiled briefly. “I cannot fault you for carrying out a mission you were given by the Crown. If I had been guilty, then I would have deserved your punishments.”
“But you were not guilty.”
“No.”
“Were they all punishments?” Jericho studied her intensely. “I confess I enjoyed spanking you and afterward making love to you.”
Her smile became rueful. “As did I.”
Jericho’s heaviness of heart lifted a little at the admission. “With your permission, I should very much like to do both again. Once you are well enough,” he added to that confession.
Jocelyn’s throat moved as she swallowed before speaking. “You have avoided me all week.”
He could not continue to prevaricate anymore, owed Jocelyn the truth. “I stayed away because I thought you must hate me for having put you in danger.”
Her eyes widened incredulously. “The shooting was not your fault, nor could you have stopped it when the coward stayed in the shadows. Besides, how could I ever hate you when I—” She broke off abruptly, her cheeks paling once again.
“Jocelyn.” Jericho moved quickly to her side to take both her hands in his. “Because of the way my mother was, I have avoided emotional entanglements all my life. But you…” He squeezed her hands. “You now own all of my heart. All of me. I love you, Jocelyn. I love you with all my heart and always will.” He made the last a vow.
The joy that now burst inside Jocey’s heart was in complete contrast to the heaviness she had felt such a short time ago at the thought of leaving Jericho. “I have thought all week that you hated me!”
“Never,” he assured vehemently. “I could never and will never feel anything for you but a deep and abiding love. I want— If you give me permission to court you, to spoil and love you, it is my dearest wish that one day you might even agree to become my beloved wife and the mother of our children.”
If Jocey was asleep and dreaming all this, then she wished never to wake up. She could happily stay in this moment for the rest of her life.
Except…
If Jericho really did love her and want to marry her, to have children with her, then the future was so much more than even this moment.
Her eyes filled with tears of happiness. “Then with your permission, we shall be married as soon as you have acquired a Special License from the Prince Regent. I love you too, Jericho,” she assured at his astounded expression, her fingers tightening about his. “I believe I have loved you, been in love with you, since I was eighteen years old and you rescued me from the Highlands of Scotland.”
“Dear God…”
Jocey smiled so brightly, her cheeks ached. “I love you, Jericho. I love you completely and utterly.”
Jericho tempered his eagerness as he pulled her into his arms, very aware of how fragile she still was. “God, how I love you!” He buried his face in her hair, holding her against him for several relieved seconds before moving back slightly. He fell to his knees but maintained his hold on one of Jocelyn’s hands. He never wished to let her go ever again. “Will you marry me, Jocelyn? I promise to love, honor, and worship you all my life.”
She laughed happily. “Yes, yes, yes I will marry you!”
Jericho’s heart cracked wide open, and he held nothing back as he stood to kiss Jocelyn with all the love and promise of their future life together.
“What is it?” He frowned as Jocelyn’s gaze shyly avoided meeting his.
“It is only… I believe I am already recovered enough for the two of us to make love.”
Jericho gave a relieved laugh. “You would not rather wait until after we are married?”
“No.”
Jericho loved her refreshing honesty. Loved Jocelyn to distraction. “It shall be my pleasure to grant your every wish for the rest of our lives together.” He lifted Jocelyn into his arms.
Her eyes glowed with mischief as her arms encircled his neck. “As it shall be my happiness to ensure your every pleasure.”
Which is exactly what they did.