Chapter 13
It wasn’t until the next day, seated in the drawing room, that Kate realized Jackson hadn’t told her when they would next meet. Which meant there would be no third meeting. He’d walked away from her.
Not entirely true. She’d shoved him away.
Either way, it shouldn’t cause such a deep ache. Jackson meant nothing to her. And she certainly meant nothing to him. He’d declared so himself.
It was only the loss of her ring causing this odd melancholy, since the blackguard hadn’t the decency to return it. She couldn’t seek him out for it. She had too much to lose.
Clearly, she’d already forfeited her wits when it came to Jackson Cooper. Why else had she all but thrown herself at him? Heat flared in her cheeks as she recalled the pull of his mouth on hers.
Oh Lord, what have I done? The man had feasted on her breast. She was hardly versed in indecent behavior but there was little doubt lowering her bodice—outdoors, no less—did not make a lady.
She focused on the sewing she’d started in an attempt to distract herself from unwanted thoughts. She should have known such a menial task would be no match for the wickedness he stirred.
Amending her earlier thinking, she decided it was a blessing Jackson had severed their friendship, if one would even call it that. She certainly never behaved so scandalously with those of her acquaintance. Imagine the talk if I did.
Though her popularity with the men about town would undoubtedly soar.
She chuckled at the thought.
“Now that is a sound I like to hear.”
The voice from the doorway startled her enough to cause her to miss the fabric and stab the needle into her finger.
“Ouch!” Unseemly or not, Kate instinctively brought her injured finger to her mouth and lightly sucked on the small needle prick.
“Drat,” she mumbled around the digit as she glanced at her visitor and found Blackthorn rushing to her side.
“Oh, Kate. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He lowered to his knees before her. “Let me see.”
He gently pulled her hand from her mouth so he could inspect the injury.
She attempted to pull free of his grasp. “It is nothing. Really, I’m fine. It isn’t even bleeding.”
And it wasn’t. The throbbing tip hadn’t a trace of blood.
He cupped her hand between his and brought it to his lips. “Even still, I’m deeply sorry for causing you pain.”
His breath was warm on her skin but instead of feeling comfort, guilt crashed into her as she recalled how Jackson’s heated breath had caressed her breast.
Yet again, she attempted to regain possession of her hand and this time Blackthorn released it, though he didn’t stand.
“What were you laughing about when I entered?” he politely inquired.
Kate strove to dismiss envisioning an imaginary, sudden rise to fame from kissing random men. Clearly admitting such to one’s future husband was simply not done. “It was nothing. I barely recall. I didn’t know you were planning to visit today.”
He graciously allowed for the change of subject, and thankfully abandoned his position at her feet to claim the chair next to her. “I happened to be in the neighborhood and thought I’d call on you. I would have waited to be announced but Chatters was called into an emergency when I arrived. I took pity on the man and offered to find you myself.”
Knowing how the family butler had a tendency to become frazzled by anything remotely resembling an emergency, Kate understood Blackthorn abandoning protocol.
Kate smiled in return. “Well, you found me.”
“So I did.” He matched her smile and in that moment, Kate panicked.
A lifetime of sitting and smiling at each other flashed before her. It wouldn’t be a bad life, just not an exciting one. There would be no passion. No anticipation. Truths that hadn’t bothered her prior to now. Blackthorn and contentment had been enough, important necessities.
Until Jackson.
Now, she knew how life could feel. There was nothing else for it, the man had destroyed her. She fought off a scowl.
“Kate, is something wrong?”
She blinked at Blackthorn and cleared her thoughts. “Why do you ask?”
He studied her somberly. “You don’t seem quite yourself.”
She could have lied. Could have found any number of excuses to explain away his concern. Instead she asked the one question most vital at the moment. “Why do you want to marry me?”
Clearly taken aback, Blackthorn regarded her silently. Certainly not a man of rashness, she wasn’t surprised he contemplated first. Should a man need a mental debate in order to declare his affections to his future wife? Shouldn’t the words be clear and forthcoming?
Though not a love match, she respected and admired him, a foundation she’d been satisfied with. Dratted Jackson.
Her fingers twitched on her lap as she continued to wait for Blackthorn’s response. She wasn’t the most patient of ladies, and he stretched her capabilities quite thin.
He finally ended her torment. “Kate, are you having second thoughts?”
Kate wavered, not ready to confess her scattered emotions. “Certainly not. I’m just curious.”
He smiled. “Forgive me for asking a rather asinine inquiry, since any man with a lick of sense can see your worth.”
My worth? What of just plain me?
No woman wanted to be thought of in terms of worth. She just wanted to be wanted.
Oblivious to her worry, he continued. “It is a wonder someone hadn’t whisked you away at the beginning of the season. Which is my good fortune.”
His light chuckle sounded genuine; Kate couldn’t help but respond in kind. When he reached for her hand and his strong heat warmed the chill of her fingers, she realized how foolish she was being. Blackthorn wasn’t at fault for her fickle desires. He didn’t deserve her doubts.
Her lips parted to terminate the discussion, when he asked, “Now tell me the truth, why the concern?”
Of course, he wouldn’t let it go so easily. As well as being strikingly handsome, Blackthorn possessed an abundance of intelligence.
Having no desire to add additional falsehoods to her résumé, she swayed toward the truth. “Do you ever feel as if you aren’t being true to yourself?”
He peered at her quizzically. “How so?”
How did she explain something she couldn’t seem to voice to herself? “If you weren’t the Duke of Blackthorn and in need of a wife, would you marry? More specifically, would you be marrying me?”
“You don’t want to marry me?”
“I’m not saying that.” Well, not aloud. Since he retained possession of her fingers, she pulled them free and wrung her hands together. “I can’t help but wonder if this marriage is what we decided, or if it was decided for us,” she finally whispered as she avoided his eyes.
He released a gasp. “Are you being forced to marry me?”
Her gaze flew to his. “Of course not. That is ridiculous.”
Was it, though? If she paused to examine everything, what other conclusion could there be? Wasn’t she marrying the man because her father approved of the union? She certainly feared destroying her father’s approval if she refused Blackthorn’s proposal.
“Kate, I’m a patient man and before today, I thought rather reasonable, but for the life of me, I can’t comprehend what you are trying to say.” His gentle expression lessened her fears. This was Blackthorn. If nothing else, they were friends. “Do you need more time? There is no need to rush our engagement. We will wait to make an announcement. Please understand, despite wanting to marry you, I won’t force you into a union you don’t wish for. While our affections might not run deep, I care for you. The last thing I want is a miserable wife,” he added with a quirk to his mouth, his attempt to lighten the mood.
Kate silently thanked him for it even as she grasped his offer with both hands. “How would I explain postponing the announcement to my father?”
Though it endured, his smile dimmed a faction. As understanding as he was, her agreeing to the delay must have stung. “Leave your father to me.”
Cowardly or not, she didn’t rebuke his offer. Familiar with her father, the information would be better received coming from Blackthorn. Besides, Father couldn’t disown the duke.
She opened her mouth to promise the situation was only temporary, that after a few days she’d be ready to announce their betrothal. Only no words were forthcoming.
Clearly mindful of her struggle, Blackthorn slipped his hand over hers and gave it a squeeze. “Everything will work out.”
She peered into his face, trying to find something to spark her heart. To give her even a fraction of the intensity Jackson ignited.
Nothing.
Her shoulders slumped in defeat.