Chapter 11
“There you are.” Blackthorn greeted Kate the moment she stepped into the ballroom. “I thought I’d lost you.”
Apt words. Her body shook with the knowledge of how close she’d been to losing everything. The feel of Jackson’s lips still lingered. The culpability her actions rendered made it impossible to look her betrothed in the eye.
She feigned teasing into her voice. “As you can see, I’m right here.”
When he didn’t immediately respond, she found the courage to steal a peek at him. His serious gaze seemed to read every thought written across her face. And she knew what he would find. Guilt.
As her lips parted to alleviate his suspicions, her sisters converged on them.
Helena spoke first. “Blackthorn, we need to steal Kate for a moment. We will have her back soon.”
Her mouth agape, Kate hadn’t a moment to offer an explanation—not that she had one—because Helena tugged on her arm and dragged her across the room. Kate lost sight of Blackthorn through the crush.
“What in the blazes are you doing?” Kate exclaimed the moment Helena released her arm.
“Such words, sister. I think I’m going to tell Father,” Helena replied.
“Ladies, we interceded to prevent a spectacle, not to create one,” Valarie interjected, standing between Kate and the crowded room.
Kate’s glare flashed between her siblings. “I think the two of you have lost your minds.”
Valarie eyed Kate with a look of reproach. “Us? We aren’t the ones sneaking off to consort with a rake.”
“Consort? Truly, Val? Is that the best you can do?” Helena taunted their older sister. “My personal favorite is assignation.”
Clearly exasperated by Helena’s antics, Valarie cut her a direct look. Turning her disapproval to Kate, she hissed, “I know I encouraged you to end your engagement, but I certainly never approved of you making Blackthorn look like a fool. Whatever are you thinking, Kate?”
Confusion reigned for a moment as Kate deciphered her sisters’ rambling. If they were aware of her interlude with Jackson, then possibly others knew . . . even Blackthorn. A prospect Kate couldn’t allow.
As much as she loved her sisters, she wasn’t about to confess her misdeeds.
“Why don’t you explain to me what I supposedly did and I can explain how wrong you are,” Kate offered.
Helena opened her mouth to spout what Kate assumed would have been a statement filled with inappropriate words and mild teasing, but Valarie cut in bluntly. “We saw you disappear down the hall with Mr. Cooper.”
“She means to say, we saw you disappear into a room with Mr. Cooper. Then the door closed in our faces,” Helena explained, oh-so-eloquently.
If she thought her world was about to implode before, Kate was sure of it now. Her sisters wouldn’t believe her encounter with Jackson had been innocent.
Like any cornered animal, Kate became defensive. “Why were you following me?”
Valarie glanced around—probably to ensure their conversation stayed private. “You’ve been acting strangely the last few days. First, disappearing at the Mosley’s ball.”
Her sister waved a finger at her when Kate opened her mouth to offer a well-practiced excuse. “Don’t even attempt your nonsense about having a headache and skulking in the retiring room. We didn’t say anything at the time but we went looking for you and you were most definitely not in the retiring room.”
Helena took up the admonishment. “Then there was Lady Laura’s garden party. Your absence might have gone overlooked by anyone else. Did you think your own sister wouldn’t notice?”
Kate spun to confront Helena; her rat of a sibling hadn’t an ounce of shame for her tattling.
Valarie jumped back in. “You’ve been acting strange and you’ve been weirdly fascinated by Mr. Cooper.”
“And now we know why,” Helena added.
“You know nothing.” Kate latched on to one last defensive effort.
“You need to figure out what you are doing, Kate. If you don’t love Blackthorn, don’t marry him. Call off the betrothal before it is too late. Since it hasn’t been announced yet, there is still time to avoid shredding your reputation,” Valarie pleaded. “But not this—this . . . whatever this is. Blackthorn could destroy Mr. Cooper with a well-placed word. Even a mild-mannered duke will go to extremes if made into a fool.”
Their tirade at an end, her sisters offered stern glares. Over the years, they’d shared in disagreements, but never had Kate felt their censure. The worst part, they weren’t wrong. She needed to set things right.
Unfortunately, it might already be too late.
Her mind had been set on marrying Blackthorn. Her father expected it of her; Blackthorn was counting on her. She’d been raised to be a dutiful daughter and marrying a respected duke would accomplish that.
Except her body—and she feared, her heart—pleaded for something else. Something more adventurous than living out her life as an obedient duchess.
Could she continue as the woman she’d been raised to be without losing herself in the process?
What choice did she have? She couldn’t go back on her word.
Valarie and Helena hadn’t eased their stance and Kate knew they awaited an answer.
“Father accepted his suit and expects it. I must marry Blackthorn,” Kate finally muttered, fearing their conversation wasn’t as private as they thought.
Valarie’s features softened. “Oh my dear, you need to stop taking on the role of perfect daughter. Mother and Father might expect it but the world won’t end if you chose something else.”
“Says the woman married to an earl,” Kate spat, wholly exacerbated with the entire conversation.
“We are hardly the same people. I know you. A marriage lacking love and affection won’t be enough. You have a strong heart, Kate. Listen to it.”
Prepared for a battle, Kate was taken aback by Valarie’s comment.
“Don’t do anything reckless,” Helena pleaded. “We only want what is best for you.”
Considering the advice came from the rashest of the three of them, Kate eyed her in disbelief. Her sisters’ support should be comforting and lessen the weight holding her down. Sadly, it only added to her dilemma.
Because she didn’t know what was best.
~ ~ ~
The next day failed to illuminate any answers for Kate, but it brought about her second appointed meeting with Jackson. As damning as their game could be, she had no intention of not complying. Which was why, instead of visiting the modiste with Helena, as she’d told her father, Kate was scurrying across London in a hackney. Hopefully Helena wouldn’t stop around for a visit. Kate’s alibi appearing without her would be awfully suspicious.
Afraid of discovery and consequent recognition, she had met the hackney away from her residence. Though she wore a veiled bonnet and plain, inconspicuous clothing, Kate still kept to the shadows of the carriage. While she huddled in the corner, the events of the prior evening raced through her mind. Try as she might, it was nearly impossible to forget Jackson’s kiss. Almost as if the sensation of his hands and lips were branded across her body.
Even worse, when she’d asked him to return her ring and release her from their bargain, she couldn’t deny a small, misguided part of her had secretly hoped he wouldn’t. With the ring in his possession, she could fool herself into believing she was blameless in their continued charade.
The carriage wheels rolled to a stop. Where, exactly, she wasn’t certain. Jackson had only supplied an address, refusing to share more.
Mindful of the need to remain inconspicuous, Kate exited the carriage and promptly paid the driver so he could be off, hopefully before he noticed Jackson.
As soon as the carriage pulled away and Kate glanced around, she realized she’d worried for nothing. Jackson was nowhere to be seen.
In fact, there wasn’t a soul in sight. No wonder the driver had eyed me strangely. Certainly, no unchaperoned woman in her right mind would ask to be left where there were no shops or residences. She took small comfort in the fact the driver had known the location of the address Jackson had given her, which meant it couldn’t be completely obscure.
Kate looked down the road, hoping to find a clue as to where she was. While it seemed maintained and well-traveled, there wasn’t any indication as to why anyone would venture on it. Trees aligned the narrow drive. Was it a park? She was too far from the city for it to be Hyde Park.
What the devil? Was the man playing a trick on her? Or perhaps he’d realized how dangerous this all was and chose to put a stop to it. Her anger swelled. He could have had the decency to inform her.
She held tight to her ire, determined to block out her mounting disappointment. His decision to end everything was for the best. She could go back to her simple life as a dutiful daughter betrothed to distinguished duke. Everything would once again be as it should instead of topsy-turvy, as it had been since the night of the Mosley’s ball when she’d stumbled upon the gnarled tree.
I blame everything on that dratted tree.
Other than a few doubts—which she suspected were quite natural for a young woman of marriageable age—she’d been set on wedding Blackthorn. She’d resigned herself to her future.
Then the tree had stumbled into her path—and yes, she believed it had placed itself there, impossible as it seemed. She couldn’t ignore how it had appeared out of nowhere, or the feelings it had provoked; the tingles and longing.
Feelings only brought to life in one other instance . . . when Jackson was near. Sensations her body had developed a keen liking for.
So, discounting logic, the tree was at fault. She ought to find it again and hack it down before it ruined someone else’s life.
Convinced she should do just that, Kate pivoted to return home . . . only to collide with a solid expanse of chest.
A familiar chest. Jackson.
His laughter rained over her. “Well now, sprite, where are you off to in such a snit?”
Against her better judgement, she raised her head and drank in the sight of him through the light veil obscuring her face. Those mesmerizing blue eyes, that handsome visage . . . I’m in deep trouble here.
Would she ever fully be done with Jackson Cooper?
“Where have you been? You said ten o’clock.”
“Who knew you were such a stickler for promptness?” He seemed oblivious to the emotions swirling inside her.
“I just expect people to be where they say they will be when they say they will be there.” Her argument lost its intensity when even she got tangled in her words.
His hand reached for her and she stood immobile as his gloveless fingers secured the end of her veil and lifted it from her face. “I hate when you hide from me.”
As insane as it was, his whisper tempted her to sink into his embrace and wish the world away. Get hold of yourself, Katherine.
She cleared her throat. “What is this place?”
He chuckled above her head but thankfully followed her lead and changed the subject by turning her to the sight behind her, the area she hadn’t inspected. Past two large trees was a small structure almost covered in foliage. “This, my Kate, is my favorite place in the world.”
She let her gaze soak in her surroundings. “I thought the pond was your favorite place in the world?”
“That is my favorite place in Hyde Park. This is my favorite place in the here and now.”
“How . . . confusing,” she murmured. But when his fingers slid down her arm and clasped her hand, she found she didn’t care. “I would wager you have a lot of favorites.”
“Only when you are there.”
She turned to him. “Why do you do that?”
He peered down at her. “Do what?”
“Forgo anything personal. Make everything a jest.”
“Who said I jest?”
They stood in silence, each daring the other to break the spell. When he glanced away first, she didn’t know if she’d prevailed as the victor or the conquered.
“Come.” He tugged on her hand and led her away from the road, closer to the abandoned pavilion. As they approached, Kate noted the open structure was a bit worse for the wear and worried it would crumble before them.
“Jackson, what is this?” she questioned again.
“Shh . . . stop being so impatient.” The audacious man dared to yet again laugh at her.
“I wouldn’t be so impatient if you would tell me what we are doing here.”
He continued to pull her along without satisfying her curiosity. Resigning herself to his lead, Kate absorbed the scene around the pavilion, amazed such a place could exist inside London without being consumed with people. The quiet of the trees surrounding the single structure seemed a tranquil setting for the sweet music of songbirds filling the air.
The further Jackson escorted her, the more the city fell away and they entered a private world.
Still without a word, Jackson assisted her up two meager steps leading into the open-wall shelter. She immediately wanted to twirl in a circle and take in the panoramic view. Then her attention was snared by the sight of a blanket spread out on the middle of the floor.
Or more accurately, the various foods displayed on the blanket.
She turned to Jackson. “You prepared a picnic?”
“Not quite. I brought a picnic my father’s cook prepared.”
“But still, a picnic.” Her eyes drifted from the man to the simple yet tempting sight. She wasn’t sure why the offering moved her so. Possibly because, during her courtship with Blackthorn, he’d never planned something as thoughtful as a secluded picnic. Ever the nobleman, he’d followed the rules of society by properly escorting her to events, visiting during suitable hours, and not once stepping outside of propriety.
All things that made him exemplary husband material, but nothing that exposed the man behind the title or constructed a deeper friendship between them.
Jackson, on the other hand, did everything in his power to destroy the social barriers erected. Propriety be damned.
Which explained why she wasn’t shocked when he brought his strong frame flush with her back.
He leaned over her shoulder and nuzzled the curve of her neck. “What are you thinking, Kate?”
Kate’s eyes threatened to drift closed as she savored his kiss. Yet she had to ask, “Why me? Why this?”
His lips stilled on her skin.
Suddenly she feared his reply.
“Truly, I don’t know.” He took a step around her and gestured to the blanket. Impressing Kate with manners that could rival any gentleman, he helped her take a seat. Once she was safely settled, he lowered himself opposite her with such aplomb she was transfixed by the movement.
His deep voice startled her when he spoke again. “Just as you shouldn’t be here, neither should I. I have no wish to wed, and you are the type of lady who marries.”
She studied the pattern of the blanket as she dissected his answer. If neither of them should be there, why were they? Are we both too weak to stay away?
Unable to set aside her inquisitive brain, Kate pursued what most nagged at her. “Why do you hate marriage?”
His eyes crinkled at the corners, revealing frequent mirth. “I don’t hate it. I just don’t wish to be married.”
Kate took it upon herself to start serving the food. “Is there a reason?”
“Someone is awfully curious today.”
“I figured since you have me here, I may as well use it to my advantage.”
“And learning about my disinterest for wedded bliss is to your advantage?”
She handed him a bowl of strawberries. “Why wouldn’t it be? I still don’t understand the purpose of holding me to these clandestine meetings in order for me to reclaim my ring. One must know their opponent and all that.”
His laughter drew her attention to his amused face. “My sweet nymph, I wish you luck trying to unravel my inner mind. Besides, it is rather simple. You are a beautiful woman. Beautiful women intrigue me.”
“In that case, I offer my sympathies.”
His eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”
“Given your fascination with women, it is unfortunate your lack of appeal compels you to resort to blackmailing to secure a woman’s company.” Kate tried, but couldn’t contain her laughter—especially when Jackson’s lips compressed into a thin line.
“I’m sure one day you’ll find someone willing to endure your company without the use of trickery,” she added.
His silence didn’t last long and when his grimace reformed into a sly grin, Kate knew she’d erred. “Are you implying I’m unappealing to the ladies?”
“I’m not implying. I’m stating it outright.”
Her barb must have missed its mark, because he continued to smile as if he held a secret. A flutter of excitement sprang to life deep within her.
As he pushed his plate of uneaten food to the side and edged closer to her, the sensation built, sending warmth through her body.
Her eyes met his and she trembled at their intensity, the way they shone as if from deep within.
He slid even closer, until the heat of his thigh pressed heavy against her leg and his lips settled temptingly close to hers.
His gaze drifted to her mouth. “Unappealing, you say?”
“So unappealing,” she managed in return.
“No lady desires to be in my company? To feel my hand in a caress?”
Kate shivered when he proceeded to do just that. All along her arm, down to where his fingers reached her gloved hand.
“And it goes without saying they’d be repulsed by the thought of my skin on theirs.”
She fought the urge to lick her lips, suddenly parched. Her breath caught when he lifted her hand and with a tug, yanked off her glove. Tossing it aside, his long, rough-tipped fingers tangled with hers.
A sigh of longing escaped her as he growled, “And they most certainly would never dream of my lips on theirs.”
No coaxing necessary, her gaze fell to his mouth as it drifted closer. She almost whimpered in torture from his slow descent, sliding her hand up his chest to his shoulder. Feeling as if the ground had fallen away, she was ever so grateful for the solid muscle to anchor her.
His breath feathered across her lips. “Do you still find me disagreeable? Say the word and I’ll cease.”
She wanted to smack him for teasing her, especially now, when they both knew she didn’t find him the least bit offensive. Not with the warmth of his body wrapped around her, pulling her in.
“Answer me, Kate, or I’ll desist. Give me a word either way.”
She could resist no longer. “Kiss me.”