Chapter 20
The moment their esteemed dinner guests arrived, two things became crystal clear to Jackson. First, his intended’s name was indeed Betsey. Second, in neither heaven nor hell would he marry her.
Even if he wished for a wife, Betsey would not be his choice. Her hawk-like nose wasn’t even the root of his aversion. Her personality won that battle without question. Intelligent, she was not.
He might have been more charitable if she possessed an engaging personality to overlook her lack of brilliance. As soon as she’d opened her mouth to speak, all hope had been lost. Given how Edward had gleefully sent mocking grins across the dinner table, Jackson hadn’t been the only one to notice Betsey’s lack of redeeming qualities. Edward was thoroughly enjoying his only brother’s plight.
As the meal progressed, Jackson stewed in silence, having no desire to attract his father’s attention. Striving to plow through this disastrous evening, Jackson vowed he’d dissuade the viscount from attempting to force a wedding. Or at least stall any proceedings with the socially-inept Betsey until he could sail with Willie.
Jackson’s heart beat heavy at the thought of freedom from England and the shackles of society, so different from his desires of a mere week ago. He didn’t need to be a renowned scholar to decipher the source of his wavering emotions.
Kate.
A woman opposite of Lady Betsey in every way imaginable, Kate’s striking beauty first caught his attention. What he had discovered of her, when they were alone, enticed him further. Her spirit, her fire. The spark that drew him like a moth to a flame.
She challenged him. Was it enough to sacrifice a plan long in the making, the one keeping him sane?
Jackson glanced around the table. First from his father and the aging lord to his left, absorbed in deep conversation, to Lady Betsey sitting next to her mother. Would endless days, consumed by waltzing through the intricate steps of society, be bearable with Kate by his side?
Then there was the matter of her betrothed. If he desired it above all else, he doubted he’d prevail over a duke. No matter, it had been his arms where Kate had found ecstasy; his kisses hurling her to the edge, then at his expert coaxing, over. Never again would he be able to ride in a carriage without becoming aroused.
Memories of her soft cries, when she’d found her release, filled his head. Jackson shifted in his seat as his erection threatened to make an appearance.
He had almost retained control of his lust when his father’s voice penetrated, effectively destroying all lingering thoughts of Kate’s sweet moans. “Jackson would be honored to escort Lady Betsey to the park tomorrow.”
Forcing the scowl from his face, Jackson eyed his father, then shifted his regard to Lady Betsey. Leave it to Father to remember the girl’s name, now. His mind raced but sadly, without wounding the lady, Jackson couldn’t think of a way out.
No more than a well-chaperoned ride through the park, he vowed, after which he would end this farce.
Even if his father permanently cut him off, Jackson would not further the ridiculous idea of marriage to Lady Betsey.
With expectant eyes watching him, Jackson had little choice. “It would be my pleasure.”
~ ~ ~
Kate’s evening meal seemed plagued with problems. True to his threat, her father was determined to force the announcement of her engagement. In doing so, he had invited Blackthorn to supper in hopes of ending the stalemate. Or maybe to intimidate Kate into accepting her fate.
She needed to see Jackson, to feel his arms around her. Everything would work itself out if only she could talk to him.
The problem with her solution . . . Jackson seemed to have vanished. Bitter frustration churned within her. How was it that the day after taking her innocence, he decided to make himself scarce? No invitation to meet. No calling on her to see how she fared.
Well, it wasn’t as if he could walk up to her door and ask for her. If he had, it was entirely possible her father would have exploded with anger. Something Jackson was wise enough to discern.
He must be biding his time. When the moment was right, he would find a way to see her. She must have faith until then.
Unfortunately, her father was turning what should be a simple task in patience into an impossibility.
“Have you set a date yet?” he questioned as his stern gaze burned between her and Blackthorn.
With her mother in the country and her siblings at their respective residences, the table held just the three of them. Which allowed her father more bluntness than was usual for him.
Thankfully, Blackthorn spoke first. “We have not, seeing as there is no rush.”
Her father cut in. “I’m counting on you to honor your word and wed the girl, Blackthorn.”
When Blackthorn didn’t bat an eye at her father’s heated tone, Kate mourned her lack of love for her ‘intended.’ He would make a brilliant champion against her father. But she couldn’t sacrifice herself for the privilege.
“With all due respect, the decision is between Kate and myself.” Blackthorn casually continued with his meal.
Father’s fork clattered to his plate. “What does that mean? Are you casting aside my daughter?”
“Father, please,” Kate begged, to no avail.
“I demand an answer.”
Unfazed, Blackthorn lowered his own fork. “Whether we choose to wed or not will be a decision between your daughter and myself.”
Her father sputtered. “Of all the—”
Outwardly relaxed, Blackthorn’s eyes hardened into a glare as he interrupted her father. “Your Grace, I hold your daughter in great esteem and I won’t have her browbeaten into making a decision not her own.”
With war declared between the two dukes, Kate feared the evening would end with bloodshed. Even if her father conceded to Blackthorn, he wouldn’t be as benevolent to her. He could hardly call out a fellow duke.
But he could disown her.
Her father snatched up his fork. Stabbing at his meal, he growled, “Don’t forget, promises were made.”
With that, conversation ended. But the warning had been heard, loudly. Clearly, at least to Kate. She doubted Father had intimidated Blackthorn.
Blackthorn finally glanced in her direction. “Kate, may I have a word with you?” Her father opened his mouth to speak but Blackthorn injected, “Alone.”
She hesitated, sensing Blackthorn wanted some answers from her. She also knew her father wouldn’t take kindly to being excluded.
Time to take control of my life. “Follow me.”
She didn’t look toward her father as she exited the room and headed for the front parlor, with Blackthorn on her heels. When he shut the door behind them, she flinched a bit. But there was no preventing her racing heart.
Would he press her to proceed with the announcement? Had his patience come to an end despite what he’d told her father? She wouldn’t assign blame, for he’d been exceedingly generous.
“Kate, does your father have cause to be worried?” Blackthorn asked without preamble. “Should I be worried?”
As he stood near the door, she wanted to look away, only he deserved better. She met his regard. “I don’t know how you want me to answer.”
He took a step closer. “With the truth. Just tell me the truth. I won’t hate you for it.”
“Highly doubtful,” she muttered, then bit her lip at his low chuckle. How he could find humor in the moment was lost on her.
“Kate, I’m not an ogre. And I’d like to think I’m a reasonable man—”
“I don’t think I wish to marry you,” she blurted.
His brows rose but his face remained poised. “You don’t think? That is hardly convincing.”
“I would like to want to marry you.”
“Well, that is completely less clear. I’m glad you clarified.” His lips twitched, revealing how lightheartedly he was handling the situation when none of this was easy for her. Why did he need to develop a sense of humor when hers was plummeting?
“What do you wish for me to say?”
He stepped in front of her and grasped her hand between his. “Again, I just want the truth. It’s what we both deserve.”
Torn, Kate pondered as she stood, her hand tucked in his. In all of this, Blackthorn was innocent. If anyone deserved her honesty, it was this wonderful man. But what of herself? Was this the moment for her to finally admit what she wanted?
“Say it,” he whispered. “Set yourself free.”
She peered into his eyes and found what she needed to see. He already knew she didn’t love him, nor would she. He had granted her permission to choose herself.
“I don’t wish to marry you,” she choked out.
Relief flooded her once the words were finally spoken, even surrounded by uncertainty. Yet where did she go from here? Even if she wanted to marry Jackson, he’d hadn’t proved he wanted the same. A possibility she couldn’t pursue if her father shipped her off to lands unknown once he disowned her.
Blackthorn squeezed her hand before he released it. “That wasn’t so hard.”
“Perhaps not for you.”
“Oh Kate, don’t misunderstand. I would have married you. I still would if it is what you want. Our union might lack love, but I care for you. Your happiness is important to me. If I can’t give you that, I wish for you to find it elsewhere. With someone else.”
At his last words, she realized Blackthorn knew everything. Well, maybe not everything; she doubted he’d be so understanding if he knew how intimate her relationship with Jackson had become. But he certainly knew her affections were engaged elsewhere.
“How did you find out?” She wouldn’t insult him by pretending she didn’t understand his implication.
“Even though my duties keep me occupied, I’d like to think I’m an observant man. Does he feel as you do?”
Kate’s eyes dropped, afraid of witnessing Blackthorn’s pity. “I’m not sure.”
With a single finger, he tilted her chin to face him. “I’m certain he does, Kate. You are hard not to love.”
Her breathing faltered. Had he just admitted to loving her? If so, it would mean he was prepared to sacrifice quite a lot for her sake.
No, Blackthorn wouldn’t lie. He was too honorable.
“Kate.” He brought her attention back. “Don’t give up on what you want. No matter what your father says.”
Oh, Lord. In the midst of Blackthorn’s support, she’d forgotten her greatest challenge. Her father wouldn’t be so generous. Even if Blackthorn stood by her, Father would not forgive her for throwing away the chance to marry a duke.
“What am I to do?” Kate gestured wearily. “I’m not of age. He won’t let me marry as I wish.”
“I think you are worried for nothing. Your father is demanding but he will understand.”
She whirled around. “You don’t know my father. You saw him tonight. And for him, that was a good reaction.”
“What of your mother? Will she come to your defense?”
“No. Mother is content as long as she has half of England between her and Father. Even if it means she remains in the country and misses the Season.”
Still chivalrous and trying to solve her problems when no longer obligated, he queried, “What of your sisters? I’m sure they will stand by you. It goes without saying I will do what I can.”
His benevolence spiked her guilt anew.
“What if I allow for you to have more time?” he offered.
Kate blinked in confusion. “How so?”
“We wait to tell your father we’ve ended our betrothal.” He smiled, clearly pleased with his secret plan.
A stab of shame shadowed her relief. Why couldn’t she have fallen for Blackthorn? Things would have been so much simpler.
“Why would you want to embroil yourself with my problems, especially if it allows me to marry someone else?”
He raised a single shoulder in an offhanded shrug, one of the most casual gestures she’d ever seen him make. “My lack of emotion proves we weren’t meant to wed. Besides, I’m a duke. I would have been honored to have you as my wife and you are by far my first choice, but I’m not lacking options.” His faint smirk reminded her, duke or not, Blackthorn was still a man to be reckoned with, underneath his title. A man completely aware of his appeal to the opposite sex.
Despite his generosity, being beholden to Blackthorn didn’t sit well. “I couldn’t repay such a favor. Not in-kind anyway.”
Stepping nearer, he reclaimed her hand to give it a solid squeeze. “Kate, I’m not asking for anything. Though, who knows, there might come a day when you’ll be saving me from an unwise choice.”
She managed a smile. “I hardly call you an unwise choice.”
Blackthorn’s appeal shone through as his rakish smile lifted his lips and released a deep dimple. Without a doubt, this man would not be lacking female company in her absence. Even still, his handsomeness sent no butterflies to her stomach or heat flowing through her veins. Jackson held that honor.
Jackson. Distracted by her discussion with Blackthorn, she had lost sight of what this all meant. She was free to choose. And there was no doubt in her heart, she would always choose Jackson.
Would he do the same?
Memories of his arms holding her, of him taking her to the highest of sensual peaks, flashed before her. She would not believe he could touch her so reverently and not care for her.
Perhaps even love her.
She made her decision. “If you are certain, I agree. We keep my father thinking we will marry until I can find a way to tell him differently . . . if I decide to tell him.”